Rating: 
Summary: Once again, Last Year at Marienbad, forever.
Review: Be warned up front that this movie will not suit everyone. This is film as art and it is in black and white; there are those who hate it and those who love it. It is subtitled in English but you will enjoy it even more if you understand French because the off voice is often hauntingly poetic. It was filmed on location in Bavaria, Germany, near Munich at the palaces of Nymphenburg and Schleissheim. The script is relatively easy to find both in French, L'Année dernière à Marienbad, and in English under a title slightly different from the one of the movie: Last Year in Marienbad. I greatly admire and love this movie; I believe it to be a masterpiece of French cinema. This is a work that you'll watch over and over and of which you will not tire. A labyrinthian intrigue unfolds in an icily beautiful sprawling baroque palace --a dream-like deluxe palace hotel where tuxedos and evening dresses are de rigueur . Along with the protagonists you will enjoy losing yourself over and over in this enchanted yet disquieting movie. He ("X " in the official script --he remains nameless in the movie) and She ("A" in the official script --also nameless in the movie) had met last year at Marienbad (thus the title). That's what he says. A romantic encounter, apparently. A short-lived affair, a summer long liaison? The true nature of their relationship is never disclosed. If they did not have an affair might they not have exchanged only a promise to elope, or merely agreed to meet again a year later? Did He grant her one year's reflection time to decide whether to follow him and leave her husband? Ah, yes, her husband is there also, a witness and party to this mystifying situation; quite a dispassionate and remote witness though. Yet he genuinely loves her, well at least he seems to care about her, in his cold, aloof way that is. Would the husband know more about the matter than he lets out? In some European legends it is Death who sometimes grants a one year reprieve to her victims, could it be... too farfetched an interpretation since death is at no time mentioned in the movie. Your guess will be as good as mine. But, again, did they actually meet last year at Marienbad? X/He argues they did, obsessively. A/She pretends having no recollection whatsoever of the event and denies everything. Of this encounter He is absolutely, passionately convinced; but her denials and her rejections of his advances appear no less sincere and convincing. One of them must be in error if not lying, fatally, but who? Did He actually have an affair with her or is he deluded and raving mad? He keeps trying to wake up her memories, relentlessly, but has she such memories? His off voice resounds along the empty hallways like an incantation. Is She amnesic, truthful or lying? What motives would move him, or her, to keep pretending so maddeningly? Who will convince whom? And how is it that He cannot ever be defeated at that mind game of his that became the rage after he initiated the male guests.
Welcome to Marienbad! Wait, no, this is not Marienbad! Marienbad was last year of course, supposedly at least; this is another place, nameless. A sumptuous palace of endless corridors lined with gilded baroque stuccoes and ornate mirrors, icy cold in the midst of a brightly sunlit summer; viewer beware! You have entered a universe of pure fiction, your old points of reference, your habitual rationality and expectations are worthless. Already X, once again, weaves a vortex of déjà vu, lies, delusions, obsessions, dreams or are they genuine memories? How will you tell? His voice charms you, draws you into his world beyond the hotel, and when the night will have fallen on the grounds you will realize, only too late that you cannot escape him, you cannot leave; you will be, as I am, one of the guests --forever.
Rating:
Summary: Resnais' ode to his predecessors
Review: As is usual for Resnais, there are two plots unfolding in the course of this film. The first, as defined by the outlines of the screenplay, is, to my mind, of scant interest in itself. Something surely happened last year at Marienbad, or not, and something or other may or may not be happening now, which is about as much as is certain. But its convolutions and inconguities only work to set into relief the other, parallel plot, which isn't about the characters. The movie begins with the camera scanning the luxuriant palace where most (all?) of the action is to take place. It's a wonderful sequence, which lends the baroque interior a sense of elegiac mystery, as if one were entering excavated halls built by an extinct civilization. Only the voiceover, in its self-conscious mumbling, sounds a note that is vaguely of out sync. This contradictory note germinates. What follows at first is a largely incoherent mixture of awkwardly pompous scenes, which are delivered with sometimes egregious overacting and set in a style that points to French cinematic drama of the generation preceeding Resnais'. Most of it is so hokey that one is hard-pressed to take it seriously, and you can't help wondering if this is a prelude that the film will snap out of, just like the wooden intonations in the opening of "Hiroshima, mon amour" give way to subtle naturalistic acting. The dialog, too, seems conspiratorial, alluding to unsolvable puzzles, subverted communication, and things intended to mean whatever one wants them to mean. By the time the script delivers a clear-cut joke, in the authoritative but absurd description of a statue which two characters had been trying to interpret, it is tempting to adopt the working hypothesis that you're watching a parody. Then, just as the nonsense seems to go overboard, it reaches a high point, and a darkened room is several times quickly cross-cut with a very bright room in a way that is blatantly and gratuitously jarring. In retrospect, the gesture is calculated to make the viewer momentarily feel alienated and create mental distance between themselves and the narrative. Then something truly remarkable happens. The melodramatic jumble, the ham-acting, the repetitive dialogs, all of it goes on as before, but now none of it matters. Abstraction from detail is complete. From that point on, Resnais will show you why he had come this far: to reveal the expressive backbone of the genre, which I, and probably most other regular viewers have always overlooked and taken for granted. With all other aspects of the film receded, as if into a background drone, you begin to make your way through a disembodied sequence of frame compositions distilled from old cinematic drama. And what magnificent compositions they are! Without seeing them unsupported by the other traditional devices of film, I could otherwise hardly guessed how much potency can be contained directly in these familiar formal tableaux. Not content with just a "masterpiece gallery" of classic cinema, Resnais then sets out to demonstrate how robust these images are. The camera suddenly veers off in an out-of-place nouvelle vague stunt, characters take to mixing in assorted silliness into their actions, the soundtrack goes out to lunch, redundant cutting-room-floor alternatives are spliced together in rapid succession. No matter. Every time the next composition locks in, it works just as well as the one before, with the same unselfconscious lushness and gravity, nonchalantly brushing off advances of post-modern irony. As even snippets of the dialog seem to underscore towards the end, this is a long and reluctant farewell to an outmoded genre, delighting in the images on the screen while contemplating the impossibilty of bringing them to life again in earnest. Elaborating the metaphor of the opening sequence, the film makes its way through a cornucopia of pictorial opulence, which now bears the somber dignity of belonging irrevocably to the past. At one point, the camera makes a dramatic rush to a genre painting on the wall, as if asking: will it all someday seem as artificial and obsolete as this? It won't, at least not as it appears here. Resnais' film is not so much a swan song, being as it is a posthumous tribute, but is rather akin to a grand funeral ode, enthusiastially articulating the perpetual glories of its subject.
Rating:
Summary: One of the better films of the 20th century.
Review: Marienbad is a classic that ranks high with Citizen Kane, L'Avventura, and 8 1/2. A movie that you will watch again and again, exploring new textures and sounds that add to the story every time you watch it. I read a great review of the movie here: http://quillandink.netfirms.com/dlfe04.htm and that's what got me interested in it. I love the movie more now that I've watched it several times. I think you will too.
Rating: 
Summary: PUZZLING SURREALISM. INTERPRET AT WILL.
Review: I've seen many a quaint film in my time, but this one absolutely takes the cake. It came recommended aggressively by a friend who studies film, reason enough for me to be coaxed into renting it. Let's start with the (semblance of a) plot. It's a seductive story about a handsome nameless man called X, who tries to persuade a, possibly, married elegant nameless woman called A that they met the previous year and had an affair at a spa called Marienbad -- or was it perhaps Fredericksburg? She's a guest at the hotel with her husband or escort, who is referred to only as M and seems to have some control over her. The stranger convincingly goes on to say that she promised to run away with him if he could wait a year. But the truth of that is never made certain, as the women though repeatedly reminded of things that happened at the spa says she can't recall them. The film moves obsessively between dimensions of time and space, something that may rattle the unprepared viewer. Mind you, it's in black and white, if that sort of thing bothers you (it did me). So, what was it about? Was it a parody of the typical gloss of a Hollywood romantic film? Or just wonderful nonsense elevated to magnificence? I can't be sure. How one takes to such a deceptively ambiguous film depends on one's attitude toward unconventional films. Reeks of a game of kitsch, but nevertheless was pleasingly entertaining and suitably intellectual. If nothing else, take it for a ride to test your endurance and interpretation.
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Summary: A museum of hermetic beauties
Review: This enigmatic film still hasn't yielded all of its mysteries - mostly because the viewer is awarded complete freedom to give its intricate rythms and figures the significations he or she perceives. The brilliant soundtrack, which combines a textured set of voice-overs and somber organ music, induces reverie... but a reverie highlighted by brief and unforgettable nightmares ('Marienbad' is unsettling to a degree that few movies are). The film's world is above all artistic: it is a 90-minute visit inside a museum of mirrors, statues, photographs and paintings; the characters themselves assume all of these roles over the course of the work. The cinematic image feeds on other images - some are seen in mirrors, others come from illustrations. Everything, from theme to form, is absorbed and transformed by art; this is in line with the notion of "l'art pour l'art" championed by 'Marienbad' writer Robbe-Grillet at the time. The film also has connections with Resnais' own work: memory is as much preserved as it is artistically constructed, and 'X' (Albertazzi) can be read as an artist-figure - something Resnais would return to in 'Providence' (1976). It is tempting to envision the Marienbad chateau and its surroundings as a dedalian labyrinth whose Minotaur lies just out of reach... but this is only one possible reading among countless others. This unique masterpiece should be seen again and again.
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Summary: get to know robbe-grillet essential man of modernism
Review: I love this film. It is all the other critics say, and more. What I want people to think about this movie is, what if it was made in caves, featuring short, fat, dumpy, pimply people in loin cloths and hyena hydes? I, therefore, am waiting for the remake. In the meantime, we can all turn on to robbe-grillet's world (he's written novels, essays, also.) Don't go another moment without this prophetic revelation of what we call today the "false memory syndrome" issue. Modern madness never looked so good. It's a dream affixed to silicon/ mylar, frozen in time and space forever. Lynch could never be so subtle. Kubrick would blush to be so personal. Antonioni gives us too much of an intelligent view of reality to be so dreamy. Fellini gives us too much of an intelligent view of dreams to be so realistic. And all of humanity, loving it or hating it, may never guess it for what it is: a subtle mirror that reflects and includes its audience simultaneously, so effectively no one notices. It is an inclusive mirror of a world all dressed up with no place to go.
Rating: 
Summary: ZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzz.........
Review: The most tedious film I've ever seen. I had to watch it in film school and I nearly went out of my mind with boredom. VERY hard to sit through. You keep waiting for a story to emerge and it just never does. I suspect that the whole thing might have been a grand joke on the part of the director ... make a nonsense "art" film and see what significance his audience reads into it!!
Rating:
Summary: "WALLPAPER - but WHAT wallpaper!"
Review: Some or other erudite wag referred to this still unsurpassed inspiration to all serious minded film scholars as "The World's Longest Wallpaper Commercial", Ah, but WHAT a commercial...... Is it a love story? Is it a murder mystery? Just what the Hell is this all about? Like fading memories - when we remember incidents, moments, etc., we tend - depending on visual power - to recollect - to remember specifics about the immediate surroundings, the rest? That's not quite a blurr, the other images are there, but what are THEY doing? Probably an inspiration for the later disappointing Kubrick "Eyes Wide Shut" orgy sequences, THAT chauteau, somewhere outside New York - err London? Anyhow, THIS is where we are - in someone's memory - recalling specific episodes over and over again. Somewhat frustrating, somewhat disturbing, but not disappointing, and this should be viewed again and again, you see - there's ALWAYS something new to be discovered. [A similar approach used in the later "Providence"]. Luminous Delphine Seyrig is the focal Female! [She left us with very few movie - this is one of her best]. Strange piece of work indeed! It has a life of it's own - and seems to recreate itself. ANOTHER MUST SEE? "Hiroshima, Mon Amour" - similar, unforgettable opening sequence!
Rating:
Summary: The classic conflict
Review: A chronicle of what happens when the truth comes knocking in your life. At first the wild love affair while on holiday, but an affair only: When this heart comes back to carry you off for good, there's denial, conflict, and ultimately the hard choice between it and your stalwart, practical mate: the life you'd been leading so comfortably, so accommodatingly, for so long. Enthralling.
Rating:
Summary: The Emperor's New Clothes
Review: This extremely boring French film has been pushed on film students for years. The only enjoyable things about it are the Chanel costumes and Seyrig's beauty which is definitely helped by lighting, make up, black and white film stock and the clothes. I fail to see the reason nearly everyone raves about this film. I speak French, am a filmmaker, and I understand and have read many reviews about what Resnais was attempting to tell us. The bottom line: this film is just flat out boring. If, in real life, you've visited a palace such as Versaille or chatted with a young woman in a beautiful dress at a social gathering, there isn't much impact for this film to make on you. Mozart said of music: "it should never be painful to the ear but should flatter and charm it, and thereby always remain music." This applies equally well to the seventh art form and this film is painfully boring to sit through.
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