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If you believe that the ending makes the movie, Blowup is for you. The first 30 minutes seem aimless and wandering, but they set up the main character and what is he is to discover about himself, about his occupation and about art in general. Antonioni builds tension (or frustration as you're watching it) not with plot, but with anti-plot. You want to scream at David Hemmings's character to: focus! screw those models! do something! But as the film unfolds you will see why Antonioni chose this actor, this profession and those girls. A wonderful manifesto about the dangers of voyeurism and what it does to a man's sexuality that is 40 years ahead of its time. The symbolism might get heavy handed at times (mimes, a broken guitar), but the sets are so full of creativity and the actors so beautiful (this will give my age away, but Vanessa Redgrave, who knew?) that you forgive Antonioni (he's Italian after all). Hemmings is Hugh Grant before Hugh Grant, but in this role at least, much more interesting. He's highly sexual, but unlike his painter roommate, his chosen art form represses him, all in the name of the shot. And when he finally gets the perfect shot in the perfect light, it's so perfect that someone steals it, and for good reason. Did those events actually take place or just through his camera lens? When the photos are the proof of what you see, then when that proof is taken away, did you see?

I realize that this is a cinema classic, taught in cinema courses everywhere. And I recognize that there is some pretty remarkable stuff here. But some of it I found very off-putting.

First, to the good: the cinematography is almost constantly remarkable. The way scenes are framed, the constant variation of camera angles, the switches between close and far, etc. I almost would have preferred this without sound. There was so much of interest to watch.

There was little of interest to hear, however. The dialogue is inane. And the protagonist is an egotistical, selfish, thoroughly repugnant excuse for a man. Maybe he's alienated from his world. Why would I care? He does everything to demonstrate that he cares about nothing and no one but himself.

Just past the midpoint of this movie, it starts to become interesting when the photographer detects something in the background of one of his photos. When it turns out a man was murdered, he wants to know more. But why? He's never shown any interest in anything other than himself up until then?

And, finally, he seems to forget about it all.

Watch this once for the amazing camerawork. But as for the plot, the characters, and the rest, don't expect to be engaged. I certainly wasn't.

The person that recommended this film to me told me that very little actually happens, and that its beauty comes from its ambiguity and the way it portrays swinging London. I didn't sit down anxiously awaiting a structured plot and narrative. In the event it turned out to be much more straightforward than I imagined. Some people might interpret it as an exploration of the questions - "what is real? how do we know if it is or isn't?". Yet it's certainly not the only, or most important interpretation to be had.

There's little point in rehashing the story, as plenty of other reviews here have already saved me the trouble. The thing that caught me about it was its sense of real-time. Blow Up's been called slow-moving, but in fact the events of the film don't happen over a matter of weeks. From what I can tell, they barely span 24 hours, give or take. The transition of thought and attitude and confidence that Thomas goes through in that small space of time is artfully handled, with no clumsy epiphanies or idiotic, unrealistic moments of revelation. You share the confusion that has crept up on him and seized him before he actually realises it - HIS confusion exactly, not the confusion of an uninvolved viewer watching an arty, labyrinthine film. Antonioni injects you, Alice-In-Wonderland-like, right into his head.

Thomas is from the start magnetic but brutal; someone you wouldn't expect pity or benevolence from; a man who is aware of his own power in the world, despises everything around him and acts kindly only if it's in his own interests to do so. By the end of the film, as an imaginary ball is tossed accidentally across a park by a ghostly teenage pack of mimes, the look on his face as he retrieves it for them suggests empathy; a sense of understanding that was lacking when we first met him. The events of the film are not explosive or loudly momentous; yet we understand that they are enough to change him, and by the end of the film we understand why. The sharp little shocks of distraction throughout - in particularly his encounter with the would-be models - are startling and realistic in their unconstructed spontaneity, as such experiences often really are. It's easy to see how Blow Up came from a short story; it has the elusiveness of one, and those who didn't appreciate it as a feature film might enjoy it more if perhaps they watched it again as a detailed anecdote rather than expecting a crashing epic.

Antonioni's Blow-Up was the biggest hit of the Italian director's career, the superficial elements of the fashion world, Swinging London and orgies on purple paper ensuring its commercial success.

Models such as Veruschka (who appears in the film), Twiggy and fashion photographers at the time have complained about its unrealistic depiction of the industry and claimed that its central character, Thomas (played by the late David Hemmings) was clearly based on David Bailey.

To look at Blow-Up as an analysis of the fashion business in the Sixties is to misunderstand the film's intentions. In any case, when watching this film it may be difficult to tell what its all about if you're unfamiliar with Antonioni's films but it obviously has little to do with the fashion world which is merely the setting for the story and nothing more.

Antonioni made the clearest statement of his motivation as a filmmaker at the end of Beyond the Clouds when he talked about his belief that reality is unattainable as it is submerged by layers of images which are only versions of reality.

This is a rather pretentious way of saying that everyone perceives reality in their own way and ultimately see only what they want to see.

With this philosophy in mind, Blow-Up is probably Antonioni's most personal film.

Thomas' hollow, self-obsessed world is shattered when he discovers that he may have photographed a murder when casually taking pictures in a park. He encounters a mysterious woman, Jane (Vanessa Redgrave) who demands he hand over the film and when he refuses she appears at his studio, although Thomas never told her his address.

When the evidence disappears shortly afterwards, Blow-Up seems to deal in riddles that have no solution. Redgrave re-appears and then vanishes before the photographer's eyes, Thomas returns to the park without his camera and sees the body. The film concludes with Thomas, having discovered the body has disappeared, watching a group of mimes playing tennis without a ball or rackets in the park where the murder may have taken place.

It is only in the final scene of the film where the riddle is solved. Thomas throws the imaginary ball back into the court and watches the game resume. The look of realisation on his face is all too apparent as the game CAN BE HEARD taking place out of shot.

There is a ball, there are rackets and this is a real game of tennis. What we have seen up until this point is the photographer's perception of reality: the murder, the mysterious woman in the park, the photographic evidence and the body.

The following exchange between Hemmings and Redgrave is the key to the film:

Thomas: Don't let's spoil everything, we've only just met.

Jane: No, we haven't met. You've never seen me.

It is hard to find people who will readily defend this movie these days. It is commonly thought of as pretentious, overly artsy, and lacking coherence. If you don't connect with the film that is fine, but to call it trash is a mistake. Many people try to pin this as being a 60's statement. It is not however. Antonioni was a veteran filmmaker who got lumped in with the new wave scene because he was around at the same time. This was initially a hit, though that probably had little to due with it's actual merits as a film.

It is the story of an artist. The photographer Thomas, who has lost all feeling of passion for his work. He hangs around London taking fashion photographs. He is cruel to his models and other women in his life. He seems interested in other's art but cannot be roused to create any of his own. He will soon be releasing a book of photographs, all of which are uninspired photos of the poor, sick and dying. While in the park he takes a series of shots he hopes will be a nice epilogue to his collection. They are of a couple playing in the park. These pictures, however, are not what they seem.

Antonioni makes great use of insinuation. He tantalizes us with the possibility of what could have been. In us he insights the same passion that is in Thomas. In the end, I don't think he disappears so much as he returns. He does not return as the same person, though. He is changed by the passion for his art and the challenge of reality. He is no longer playing the game of catch the murderer, or faking the motions of being a photographer, or posing as a deep artist by taking sad pictures. He is now truly inspired.

Today many people hate Thomas. And with good reason. He is definitely not a nice person, but he is one of my favorite anti-heroes. There is a scene many people may miss. It is short. He is driving in his car, I think after speeding off from some want to be models, he turns on the radio, and starts bobbing his head and making funny faces to the music. This is the scene that redeems his early self to me. When he is alone, we see he still has an innocent streak despite his cruelty.

All that being said, I only recommend this to the more serious moviegoer. 10/10

I have watched Blow-Up twice now, and their is no denying that its main storyline, having to do with the murder, is eerie and suspensful. In fact, its probably what I most like about the film. Its just that some of the peripheral scenes depicting Swinging London don't always work, and can seem indulgent and distracting. Especially the one where Thomas rolls around on the studio floor with the two girls. The scene where Redgraves character comes to visit him is also a bore. So my evaluation is that its a good film, that could have been even better.

This film is remarkable in many respects but for me it is one of those rare films that uses sound to tell a story and create fabulous atmosphere. The wind in the park is something that stays with you long after the film has finished. Antonioni liked to control the environment around him to tell his stories. He used sound to contribute to the overall design of the film. Also he likes to create a character out of the landscape. Often in Antonioni films a street corner will stay in shot long after the characters have left frame. It is as though the imprint of the story is still there and he lets us wait. Maybe if we waited long enough another couple would walk in and we would follow them. Blowup is a great looking film thanks in part to Carlo di Palma's photography. Often I think cities look good when they are stylised which is what Antonioni does. We have Swinging London with empty streets and strange carnivals. We are left to think about what is in front of us. Is it all a game? Did we see what we thought we saw? A good film asks questions to the audience and does not pander to them as so many modern films do. This is a great film that nourishes the viewer. See it at the cinema to get the true experience.

.... because, for one, the sixties is just not my decade for film. Generally, films of that era feel free of the production code for the first time in 30 years and make sex the point of the film, and they just seem archaic today. The intended "shock value" sometimes gets in the way of what would have been a good film with the distraction removed. Also, I was told by some people that this film was slow and boring. Instead, I found it intriguing.

There is quite a bit going on at several levels. David Hemmings as Thomas, a fashion photographer, goes to great lengths to get gritty photographs for a book he is making. He even spends the night in a homeless encampment. He is always looking for interesting subjects, but at the very beginning of the film, he passes by a carload of mimes in various costumes, somebody who appears to be a member of the Queen's guard just walking down the street, and a group of men in native African dress. He doesn't notice them. He treats his models like objects. They bore him. When two girls enter his office and want him to photograph them he shoos them away. Then when he tries to buy something in a shop, the shopkeeper shoos him away. He doesn't get the connection. To anything. Unless it is in a photograph. And it is in some photographs of a couple having some kind of secretive romantic moment in a secluded tree surrounded glen of a public park that he finds something that jars him. But he has to see it in a "blow up" of the photographs he took to realize there is something else there that he never noticed. And you are an hour into the film before this happens.

He goes to confirm what he thought. It is true. He tries to get somebody to help him. They ignore him. Ultimately he seems to be like John Sims in the 1928 film The Crowd. The next morning, stripped of any evidence to the contrary, he just gives in to the false narrative signified by him throwing an imaginary tennis ball to some mimes who are faking a tennis game.

In an American film he would have been shadowed by the perpetrators, taken captive and brought to their lair, told the significance of what he saw, and just before he is killed by them, the police would break in, save him, and capture the bad guys. This is not an American film.

'Blow-Up' is a film with very little plot. I'm usually fine with this, but Antonioni really stretched my patience here. We follow a man who's apathetic to most things, abusive to women, and weirdly attached to propellers. He's unlikable. Ok, well, I assume that's part of the point.

The movie threatens to become interesting when the title finally becomes relevant, with a great sequence unravelling the central point of conflict.

Antonioni I think is proving with this that he can make a great conventional thriller if he wanted to. So, perhaps the movie is a critique of those types of movies? This is further reinforced by how the final third unravels, which I won't say here obviously.

I think the ideas on display here are interesting, but the execution is boring. Or, at the very least, dragged out longer than they should have been.

I'm so conflicted about this film. I've seen it before, with a similar outcome, and yet I still think returning to this five years from now might be fascinating. Or maybe I'm letting one film waste even more of my time.

Either way it's made Austin Powers more enjoyable, and that's never a bad thing.

This, along with L'Eclisse, is one of the two best Antonioni movies. It is very different from his earlier films in that it is much less overtly intellectual and is purportedly a thriller. However, it is no more a standard thriller than is The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. Instead, it is an examination of reality and illusion and an exploration of what distinguishes the one from the other. The movie has an exceptional lyrical quality to it, which of course is also not associated with thrillers. The color is gorgeous and Vanessa Redgrave is a total surprise. I have generally not found anything appealing about her, but in this movie, master-magician Antonioni transformed her into a ravishing beauty. Sarah Miles is also very sexy as the next-door neighbor. Young Jane Birkin plays a groupie who gets to roll around nude in the photographer's backdrop paper. As in L'Eclisse, the final scene is stunningly poetic.

The undeniable inevitability is that one's reaction to Antonioni's movies is always that you either relish or tolerate them, sometimes, this tolerance ultimately leads to sheer bewilderment. Really, it is grueling to go through his filmography, and from movie to movie, you realize you're on a magic realism train and nothing really in the story matters aside from the theme. The mystery doesn't matter whether the murder really happened either. Michelangelo Antonioni doesn't like resolutions for his stories, but he fully embraces "death of the author," providing a Swedish buffet worth of possible interpretations that can all be equally valid and equally wrong. You can do it ad nauseum. Plucking scenes and essentially "blowing them up" in isolation to derive the context out of them. Be that juxtaposition of doing a shoot with a blonde model in the beginning that Thomas, as an artist, is clearly passionate about to his frustrated commercial photoshoot of detached and lifeless models showcasing bizarre get-ups that he can't even bother to finish. Or how context creates meaning for the art via the broken guitar at the concert and the purchase of the propeller. Comb away. I'm not saying that the theme is that there is no concrete theme, but I think it's hard to argue how free-for-all his movies are in this aspect.

It is the most easily digestible Antonioni film, at least from my memory. Easy to follow, and Hemmings charisma is absorbing. The multitude of semi-raunchy scenes will surely provoke a reaction from you.

Michaengelo Antonioni is an interesting director for me, but do more appreciate him and recognise his influence in films than love him and consider him a favourite. His films are extremely well made and thematically interesting (some like urban alienation being ground-breaking), his directing style is unique and deservedly influential and he does get the best out of good casts in his best work. He is though a polarising director, for while his films fascinate and transfix many they alienate and perplex others and he has been criticised for detatchment, self-indulgence and ambiguity.

His first English language film 'Blow-Up' epitomises all of this for me. Absolutely love 'L'avventura' (though it took me more than one viewing to do so), 'L'Eclisse' and especially 'La Notte', but while acknowledging its numerous good things 'Blow-Up', hailed as a work of genius in its day and considered daring with the at the time innovative use of nudity, left me very conflicted and somewhat cold. This epitomises everything that has been perceived by me of what is generally thought of Antonioni, good and bad, and while it is actually not hard to see why it is highly thought of by some and appreciate what they've said it is equally not hard to see why it has garnered criticism. Don't think it is his most accessible film (of the films seen of his that's 'La Notte', which also emotionally connected with me the most), if anything it's his, or one of his, most polarising and among his more troubling ones.

'Blow-Up' looks fantastic, so cleverly shot and the long takes are a thing of beauty. The setting is evocatively and handsomely rendered too and the editing excites even when relatively understated at times. The minimal use of music is both dream-like and haunting. On a thematic level, 'Blow-Up' is very intriguing and insightful (if not ground-breaking, urban alienation is a common theme in Antonioni films and was explored more effectively before).

Was enticed admittedly when it started and initially it did grab my attention, before the film started trying too hard. Apart from an uncomfortable-looking Vanessa Redgrave, though she does look luminous, the acting is fine. David Hemmings especially does a very good job, creepy and enigmatic, in what was clearly not an easy role for him, considering understanding the character himself from an audience perspective was one of the film's more troubling elements. There are moments of brilliance here in 'Blow-Up' and Antonioni's direction does have thoughtful and striking moments.

Unfortunately these moments of brilliance are too fleeting and my main issue with 'Blow-Up' was not being able to connect with it, whether emotionally or any other way. Not all of Antonioni's films lacked emotional impact, was actually very moved by 'La Notte' and 'L'avventura' and 'L'Eclisse' in their best moments are also powerful. Everything here just felt very detatched emotionally for me and like it was all going for style at the expense of substance (and later sense), and as the film progressed it felt like in this respect it was trying too hard and some of it got very ostentatious. The arty route Antonioni increasingly took over-time in the film became heavy-handed and swamped everything needed to give a film any depth or emotion. The symbolism is confusing in some places and too obvious in others while sometimes adding little. The thrills for the mystery aspect of the very thinly plotted story aren't really here, suspense is but fleetingly and the sexual aspect that was daring at the time doesn't allure enough. Anybody not crazy about ambiguity will find themselves very confounded by 'Blow-Up'.

Ambiguity is not a bad thing sometimes, there have been instances where it has worked and where open-endedness sparks a good deal of fascinating debate. 'Blow-Up' is one of the few Antonioni films for me though where the ambiguity is taken too far and things are left too vague (anybody that found the character development vague in 'L'avventura', and some were, will find it meaty compared to the non-existent development here with a complete cipher of a main character as one can get from any of his films), meaning that it severely affects the coherence. Usually do not have a problem understanding films, but goodness was trying to make sense of too much of 'Blow-Up' a chore or what? Personally found the ending visually striking but incomprehensible, for an ending of an Antonioni film that stays with one forever in a good way the epitome of that is 'L'Eclisse'. With so little emotional impact and a story with not much to it, this is an example where a deliberate film actually feels much slower than it should be and it does get ponderous and heavy-handed. The sparse dialogue is banal at best.

In conclusion, cannot not acknowledge that there are a good number of great things with 'Blow-Up' and it is interesting to see from a historical perspective. But am really, really sorry, it just didn't connect with me and this is being said with deep regret. 5/10 Bethany Cox

Antonioni was not a director that worried too much about people completely understanding his films. In fact I'd bet that he actually hoped they didn't understand everything. So I did not find it strange or surprising when after finishing the movie I felt quite confused. But the movie made me think for a very long time, which in my opinion is what a good film should do. There are so many aspects to this film that if you give them a chance and think about them, they will keep you reeling for hours on possible interpretations. The first and probably most important aspect of this film dealt with love. From what I have seen of his films, love is Antonioni's favorite subject. But this love was different than that of past films; it is much more shallow and un-centered. Thomas, the photographer, is surrounded by women, he goes from one to the next without thinking twice, treating them like dogs the entire time. But he can do this and get away with it because he is a famous photographer and can make the women what they all desperately want to be, Beautiful. For The first half of the movie I honestly did not like his character whatsoever. Whereas in the past the director has chosen mainly to explore the ups and downs of married life, or the problems of being hopelessly devoted to one person, he now points the camera at the single, care free, over sexed, youth of the sixties. Half an hour into the movie I found myself wondering what the heart of the film was going to be. We were introduced to Thomas and his world, but there seemed to be no conflict driving the story forward. Then came the quasi-murder mystery. This is what is really interesting and unique about this film in my opinion. Antonioni for a while leads us to believe that the movie is going to turn into some suspense thriller, or murder mystery, but never seems to quite get there. He has all the elements ready to go, but never follows through with them. He introduces this alluring and mysterious woman who is in on the murder and then never brings her back. The murder victim is discovered, but his identity is never revealed, nor a motive given for his murder. Thomas, after a very energetic and exciting photo investigation seems to not really care too much as to what happens with the investigations results, only telling a couple of his friends who couldn't care less. Antonioni seems to have used this whole murder mystery convention as some sort of glue to hold the rest of the real story together. The story of a mindless, beauty obsessed, celebrity idolizing, drug addicted, and violence obsessed culture. Probably my favorite scene in the film is after fighting over the piece of broken guitar with the other fans; Thomas just discards his prize as garbage. Something that kept bugging me was the antique shop. I kept wondering what in the world it had to do with anything in the movie; it stuck out like a sore thumb. But I knew it that there was some major purpose or explanation for its existence in the film, and then it just kind of clicked. Upon his first entry into the Antique store Thomas encounters an angry old man who we eventually find out is not the stores real owner, the true owner is a beautiful young woman who is planning to sell the old place and travel the world in search of something new. All this stuff she owns, the gold of past cultures, is old and useless now. She has a hard time making a living because nobody wants the stuff any longer. Here is where I think Antonioni's major message is hidden: That is the way life is, it moves on constantly, things change, people die, cultures evolve and the only thing that remains in the end is nature itself. Antonioni finishes the film beautifully, Thomas stands alone in a large field of grass, the only thing heard is the wind and the trees, as the camera backs away slowly, he disappears leaving nothing but the grass blowing in the wind, for like all the antiques and all the people that created them in the past, eventually Thomas's life will end and so will the current popular culture in which he takes part. Change is life's only constant.

What you see is not what you get, but what you take in you may never forget, as perceptions engulf and direct what you do, are you under control, just what is guiding you? Searching for something to fill many gaps, the buttons are pressed, absorbing many snaps, dreaming of places that seem out of reach, ideas and visions from peripheries leach. A camera that captures an instant in time, could it be that someone's committed a crime, a WYSIWYG shutter abstracts and distorts, can you trust your instincts and the things they purport?

It's a wicked piece of filmmaking and gets exponentially better upon repeated developments, diffusions and confusions.

I'm trying to keep an open mind. I do not dispute that this movie is important for a reason. It does have important points which it makes subtly and well. Lack of plot is not inherently a problem, as long as the movie is done well. I have no desire to dispute most of the positive things people say about this film. Just be warned: it is incredibly dull. This is a movie that contains murder, fashion models galore, goofy period clothing, nice cars and a menage-a-trois and still had me sorting the contents of my wallet within ten minutes. It's probably worth seeing for what it is, but don't expect to enjoy yourself.

Although released in 1966, BLOWUP is remarkably pertinent today, nearly 40 years later. Its theme of reality/illusion, with people seeing or not seeing what they want not to see, is still pertinent in this era of "missing" weapons of mass destruction.

Also, the movie's jaded view of a society distracted from reality by random sex, drugs and immediate sensation is still sooooooo true today.

The Mod fashions for the photo shoots look bizarre to us now -- but you'll see equally bizarre fashions in VOGUE, at least the European issues. And what's wrong with David Hemmings' white jeans?

Only film schools, screenwriting classes, and 60s-trivia freaks keep this flick from dissolving in the can.

It has one clever notion - a photographer uncovering an assassination - but goes absolutely nowhere and does absolutely nothing. Antonioni wasn't a storyteller; he took a short story and surrounded it with fluff that's supposed to be "film" or "cinema" (God, I hate those words!)

I don't want a study, I want a story!

Know the bit where Vanessa Redgrave disappears into the crowd, and we can't see how? Take another look at how the passing crowd overlaps her: her body shifts angles at an unnatural speed - a classic mark of sloppy editing.

I mention that paragraph above to point out that this movie isn't all that clever - except to hold "film students" and professors constantly agog at its (and their own) pretensions for over 30 years now. Grow up, already!

For me, the only interesting part was - no, not the proto-Led-Zeppelin Yardbirds - but something pointed out by critic Roger Ebert: in its day, "Blowup" was a scandal in its day for its supposed frank sexuality. Today Ebert finds it notable because the photographer treats his models like garbage and they just take it, which nobody remarked on back then.

Few have remarked on it since.

What most people on the site have been referring to as mimes really are participating in the ritual known as "rag," in which students dress up and roar around town raising money for charity. It's a British thing.

I've often contemplated my large DVD collection and wondered why in the hell I paid good money for some of the titles I have collected. Sometimes it's because I saw the films as a kid in the 1960s and remembered them as good films. Other times I've just been in the "right" place at the "right" time and purchased on a whim. Many I have only watched once, disappointed that they didn't re-meet my expectations (or others', on whose opinions I had relied). Working from the other end of the equation - films I'm glad I've purchased - I've tried to consider what makes a good addition to a film collection, like Blow Up: a film that I want to watch again and again.

In the case of Blow Up, the reason I can watch it often is the atmospherics. The sound of the dismal London breezes in the park where the central pivotal action of the film takes place. The damp greenery that accompanies the breeze. The nihilism of the photographer. Even the photography itself. I spent many a long month trudging through parks in London, Paris and other places making "decisive moment" photographs, just like Thomas (the main character) did. I can appreciate the loneliness of this aspect of his work, as opposed to the studio sessions where he has a large, yet virtually mute cast of robotic assistants who do his bidding without so much as a please or thankyou from him. Peripatetic photography is - by definition - something you have to do alone, and Thomas is alone. One gets the feeling that candid photography is his true love, where he gets closest to the truth, the only part of his craft that he is emotionally excited about.

Thomas is surrounded by others, mostly because they're paid to be with him - models, staff, agents, shopkeepers, the London traffic itself - but he hates his existence and the hangers on in his life. I think that is why he's so disdainful and rude to everybody near him. He resents the space they occupy.

When he finally becomes interested in a woman (Vanessa Redgrave) she enters and exits his life by suddenly appearing and just as suddenly disappearing, as if by magic. Blink twice and she's gone. All he has left are his photographs of her, taken in a "blink", but remaining as permanent images on film. In them he first sees her with her lover and then, enlarging the images, sees something more sinister. Is she really who he thought she was? These revealed truths and questions lead him first to wonder if he really did see what he photographed, and then to ponder what course of action he should take. Real life has come up and head-butted him, and he has to respond in some way. But no-one else seems to care, not his friends or business associates. He is on his own again.

We see him at the end of the film back in the park, accompanied by the same lonely, damp London breeze, revisiting the scene of his photographs taken just 24 hours before. Whether what he saw was real or not we don't know for sure by this stage... and neither does he. Just about every scrap of evidence that he was there such a short time ago is gone: the woman, the man she was with, the photographs. He has only his imagination to rely on. As his painter friend in the first act painted his artworks and only then sought meaning in them, so Thomas found meaning in his photographs only after the act of creation - the opening of the shutter - was over. But by then it is too late. As he picks up an imaginary tennis ball and throws it back to some frolicking mimes playing imaginary tennis he smiles and realises that what he saw (or thinks he saw) in the park the day before is none of his concern. It's as if what happened never happened, as there is no record of it any more. The leaf fell in the forest and there was, for practical purposes, no-one there to witness it and bring back proof that it fell.

An excellent, complex film about a lonely, arrogant man who, for once, wants to care about something, but can't find anyone who believes in him. Full of atmospherics and rich photography. A film that I can definitely watch again and again, each time learning more about the many ways reality can be viewed and, most importantly, interpreted.

Or is it? I've never been that interested in who killed the man who fondled Vanessa Redgrave, what I want to know is which mime artist won the tennis match at the end? When Antonioni cuts away to Hemmings it looks like 30-15 to the bloke but that last point (a fault naturally) leaves it all wide open. Does the fact that the ball doesn't exist mean the game will be void anyway? It was recently suggested to me that none of it happened anyway because Hemmings smokes far too much and probably can't tell fantasy from reality. Perhaps we, the audience don't exist and it's the film itself which is a collective fantasy - the projection of Redgrave's unconscious mind. If this is the case then none of us have the right to comment on it any further.

As for who killed the older man, it's obvious. It was Hemmings. He shot him you see. I thank you.

Yes, personal opinions vary as it is when it comes to cinema; I think more than not I tend to be quite open-minded and generous. Not least with that in mind - it doesn't happen often, but every now and again I come across a film that's generally held in high regard, and for whatever reason I just don't see eye to eye with the broad consensus. Maybe something about a title rubs me the wrong way, maybe I "just don't get it"; I'm sure this happens with everyone at times. I sat to watch 'Blow-up' without any foreknowledge or expectations, and I walk away at best indifferent. There are aspects of this that I appreciate, but I just don't find it impactful in any meaningful sense. And for that lack, I'm rather taken aback.

Plot is minimal in the first place, and so meager and scattered in the first hour especially that my confidence in the picture was placed in severe jeopardy. None of the characters are very interesting; they just Are in the most bare-bones sense. Compared to the beginning of the film, by the very end we're supposed to recognize a change in protagonist Thomas, but I don't see it: he was aloof, detached, anti-social, and downright mean-spirited in the earliest scenes, and the only shift I discern is in the proportions in which these traits are exhibited later on. That's not a character arc. Set these elements aside, and most scenes are empty white noise, if not an outright hollow and/or cacophonous.

In a reflection of Thomas' occupation - and his preoccupation - there's significant emphasis in 'Blow-up' on visuals. I quite admire the costume design, hair and makeup work, the filming locations, and the set design and decoration. Carlo Di Palma's cinematography is sharp and vivid, and director Michelangelo Antonioni demonstrates a keen eye for shot composition. Between all these facets, the many vibrant colors throughout the film really pop out. Does any of this matter in a picture where the content is so blase?

I read analysis of 'Blow-up' as others have assessed, and I think "that sounds like a great movie" - only, I'm not sure we were even watching the same feature. There are good ideas here, I believe, but they don't feel connected, or fleshed out, and some seem like they're altogether injected into the wrong movie. I wish I could see this the same way other folks have, but I'm just at a loss. Clearly there are many people who check out 'Blow-up' and find it to be a compelling, rewarding picture. I'm not one of them, and even acknowledging that personal opinions and preferences vary, I don't know how I could earnestly twist discussion into a recommendation except to say, "I hope you get more out of it than I did."