The simple visuals capture loneliness very well. Nothing is rushed, every scene breathes slowly, inviting you to sit with discomfort rather than look for resolution. It’s the kind of film that doesn’t entertain or soothe you, but somehow still makes you feel seen.

The simple visuals capture loneliness very well. Nothing is rushed, every scene breathes slowly, inviting you to sit with discomfort rather than look for resolution. It’s the kind of film that doesn’t entertain or soothe you, but somehow still makes you feel seen.

The way you shoot your enviroment has as much of a purpose as a proformace.

From Angels of sin to Ladies of the park it's presumably clear that bresson has a drive to implement the strength of a set piece that no matter how small has a way of exposing the inner ills of a character that morphs in vulnerability as much as the expansion of perspective in each scene, it isn't necessarily a cold principle in facial detail as much as it is a vicersal display of suppressive faith or desire. In here everything displayed with these elements is in full force.

Claude Laydu has, if not one of the most perpetually layered proformances i've ever seen. Both in audio and on screen does he manage to convey such heavier weight of his hardship on faith as much as his own dire facial presence, but even then he occasionally opens up to provide a vulnerable perspective within his futility on health and mental drainage get's apparent more on. The world he lives in is just as cramped and no matter who he effects, everyone is no less isolated with or without the faith he preaches.

It might also have bresson's best usage of music thus far, thing's are not shown too frequently nor aren't acknowledged whenever music is playing and for the indifference of bresson it's all the better for this choice here as it's used without the priests control over his actions, his eventual outcome or the events that motivate his decline all ring the importance of sound when used. But in here it's played whenever the viewer can't notice because it isn't the impact of sound that can be exploited but by a violation of choice that gives it a distinction within this story. Dour as it can be

3 films in and the bresson hype might certainly be an understatement.

The way you shoot your enviroment has as much of a purpose as a proformace.

From Angels of sin to Ladies of the park it's presumably clear that bresson has a drive to implement the strength of a set piece that no matter how small has a way of exposing the inner ills of a character that morphs in vulnerability as much as the expansion of perspective in each scene, it isn't necessarily a cold principle in facial detail as much as it is a vicersal display of suppressive faith or desire. In here everything displayed with these elements is in full force.

Claude Laydu has, if not one of the most perpetually layered proformances i've ever seen. Both in audio and on screen does he manage to convey such heavier weight of his hardship on faith as much as his own dire facial presence, but even then he occasionally opens up to provide a vulnerable perspective within his futility on health and mental drainage get's apparent more on. The world he lives in is just as cramped and no matter who he effects, everyone is no less isolated with or without the faith he preaches.

It might also have bresson's best usage of music thus far, thing's are not shown too frequently nor aren't acknowledged whenever music is playing and for the indifference of bresson it's all the better for this choice here as it's used without the priests control over his actions, his eventual outcome or the events that motivate his decline all ring the importance of sound when used. But in here it's played whenever the viewer can't notice because it isn't the impact of sound that can be exploited but by a violation of choice that gives it a distinction within this story. Dour as it can be

3 films in and the bresson hype might certainly be an understatement.

Diary of a Country Priest destroyed me in the quietest way possible. No dramatic speeches, no manipulation, just a man slowly disappearing in front of the world while trying to keep his faith alive. Robert Bresson films people the way memory does ; awkward, distant, human. I finished it feeling like I had read someone’s private journal that was never meant to survive them.

Diary of a Country Priest destroyed me in the quietest way possible. No dramatic speeches, no manipulation, just a man slowly disappearing in front of the world while trying to keep his faith alive. Robert Bresson films people the way memory does ; awkward, distant, human. I finished it feeling like I had read someone’s private journal that was never meant to survive them.

at that moment i needed prayer like i needed air in my lungs

at that moment i needed prayer like i needed air in my lungs

Un personaje profundo, retratado con cierto minimalismo y cierta soledad. La espiritualidad y humanidad de un sacerdote que nada tiene que ver con el normativo decoro de una parroquia sin fe, rígida o normativa. Ni problemáticas sacrílegas, y dramas ensordecedores.
Un ambiente con rostros indiferentes, malicia ante la sensibilidad. Refleja la batalla humana ante las cuestiones mas profundas y humanas a través del protagonista.

Un personaje profundo, retratado con cierto minimalismo y cierta soledad. La espiritualidad y humanidad de un sacerdote que nada tiene que ver con el normativo decoro de una parroquia sin fe, rígida o normativa. Ni problemáticas sacrílegas, y dramas ensordecedores.
Un ambiente con rostros indiferentes, malicia ante la sensibilidad. Refleja la batalla humana ante las cuestiones mas profundas y humanas a través del protagonista.