Hey! Jane Birkin is a great actor.

This is a weird movie, and I like it.

Does Jane Birkin have a Birkin bag!?

It’s a kind of documentary movie — it’s a portrait of Jane Birkin, but we get fictional interludes and stuff. It’s got a nice flow.

That’s a nice kitchen.

The movie is kinda entrancing, but some of the tableaux are pretty… lame. I mean, everything looks so great, but we get a lot of these mini-dramas that aren’t that interesting. Semi-improvised, perhaps?

It’s really good. It’s got a kind of stream of consciousness flow, and is edited together incredibly well.

Jane B. par Agnès V. Agnès Varda. 1988. ⚄

I guess this is a pre-code movie? It seems uncensored.

But this is fantastic. It’s really melancholic. And no swelling orchestration, which is unusual for 1932.

That’s a nice set.

Is that a real dog?

Very Lynch.

It’s quite a strange movie.

The first fifteen minutes were ingenious, but now the tensions has kinda dissipated — it’s basically just going to be about this drunk who’s marrying this woman? And it’s about him being a drunk?

That’s no fun.

No! Now she’s starting to drink, too! They’re both going merrily to hell! Except for them both being depressed and not merry!

He said the line.

Hey! It’s Cary Grant! In a very small role.

Wise words.

Well… this started so well, and then it’s just kinda boring.

But all the critics like it, so don’t mind me.

Merrily We Go To Hell. Dorothy Arzner. 1932. ⚂

Let’s see… I’m guessing… 7 pieces (rooms), cuisine (kitchen)… er… s deb? Dunno. To let?

So — we’re shown a lot of empty rooms… and then an imaginary version of how they might look when they’re furnished?

But there’s also a narrative here…

Yum yum!

Heh heh.

Well, that is memorable.

Yum yum.

I think this might be a dream sequence.

It’s a pretty intriguing short (well, it’s a long short), but it feels a bit unresolved? There’s a number of striking images, but also some that don’t feel that successful. And the storyline is pretty vague…

It’s pretty good, I guess?

7 P., cuis., s. deb… (A SAISIR). Agnès Varda. 1984. ⚃