The late, great Maurice Pialat may well be the elliptical-realism source code for an entire generation of French filmmakers—his films are never merely stories, and each has the sense of having been edited down from a work twice as long by a seditionist revolted by narrative sutures, dramatic accumulation, and psychological clarity. Offscreen space and time are so voluminous that what we see feels like chance encounters, life glimpsed through a passing train's windows. The central movie in his scant canon, and a generational... More >>>