Finally, evil in cinema is back! That was the impression running through the mind of this writer during all 132 minutes of Albert Serra’s Liberté, a film so thoroughly dedicated to bad, evil vibes–and yes, the beauty inherent in them–that it feels like something approaching a howl in the wind against the notions of good taste.
Completing a kind of Men in Powdered Wigs Decaying trilogy with Serra’s two previous films, Story of My Death and The Death of Louis Xiv, Liberté shares their droning pace, if a more hypnotic style. It plays as the truly unshackled film he’s always tried to make; one in which the burden of deconstructing historical or literal representation feels loosened. Only the harsh clash of bodies matters.
Circa 1774, we hone in on a few select members of the French upper-class who’ve been banned from society by the puritanical King...
Completing a kind of Men in Powdered Wigs Decaying trilogy with Serra’s two previous films, Story of My Death and The Death of Louis Xiv, Liberté shares their droning pace, if a more hypnotic style. It plays as the truly unshackled film he’s always tried to make; one in which the burden of deconstructing historical or literal representation feels loosened. Only the harsh clash of bodies matters.
Circa 1774, we hone in on a few select members of the French upper-class who’ve been banned from society by the puritanical King...
- 9/6/2019
- by Ethan Vestby
- The Film Stage
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