There's a profound moment I experienced over the internet years ago that feels like the embodiment of this film. I don't remember exactly what was said, but to paraphrase it went something like this (the individual was sharing a romance they had):
I met her on Oct 17th 1994. We lived together and loved each-other. I brought her to the airport on Sept 5th 1995. It was the last day I ever saw her. I think about her with every day that passes.
It was just an internet comment on an IMDb forum, yet the stranger blew me away with their mundanity, nostalgia and poetry of their words. It's stuck with me ever since because I remember thinking how profound it seemed in the way of love and how these types of relationships really do happen, even if we mostly see them in films. But the craziest thing about Rohmer's A Tale of Winter is it develops its themes gradually, while making us think we are headed in one direction he decides to shift it (subtly) and create magic. The kind of film magic you find in a fairy tale or the most coincidental/fateful moments of reality.
After a startling and bravado montage of a passionate summer romance, we dig into the woman's life from the montage. What later ensues is the observation of her life having had a child and attempting to make a decision for a suitor between her two current options. What honestly comes across as malicious flirtation at first sublimates into her philosophical and faithful outlook on life; a most welcoming tale of warmth amidst a frigid Paris backdrop.
I have never seen a Rohmer film before, and maybe this isn't the usual place to start but I had access and took the chance. I low-key ended up loving this. Perhaps I've only felt this way after first watching Linklater's Before Sunrise, and while that film is executed much differently, they both harbor this constant feeling of warm, romantic fate. And I won't even start to dig much deeper or even scratch the surface with the Shakespeare material this film wrestles with as well as some of the more intricate socratic dialogue that occurs between characters, as I don't feel capable enough to expand in those areas. But I know there's plenty more to come back to when I decide to cozy up and watch this during the next dreary winter day.
Tears of joy.
I met her on Oct 17th 1994. We lived together and loved each-other. I brought her to the airport on Sept 5th 1995. It was the last day I ever saw her. I think about her with every day that passes.
It was just an internet comment on an IMDb forum, yet the stranger blew me away with their mundanity, nostalgia and poetry of their words. It's stuck with me ever since because I remember thinking how profound it seemed in the way of love and how these types of relationships really do happen, even if we mostly see them in films. But the craziest thing about Rohmer's A Tale of Winter is it develops its themes gradually, while making us think we are headed in one direction he decides to shift it (subtly) and create magic. The kind of film magic you find in a fairy tale or the most coincidental/fateful moments of reality.
After a startling and bravado montage of a passionate summer romance, we dig into the woman's life from the montage. What later ensues is the observation of her life having had a child and attempting to make a decision for a suitor between her two current options. What honestly comes across as malicious flirtation at first sublimates into her philosophical and faithful outlook on life; a most welcoming tale of warmth amidst a frigid Paris backdrop.
I have never seen a Rohmer film before, and maybe this isn't the usual place to start but I had access and took the chance. I low-key ended up loving this. Perhaps I've only felt this way after first watching Linklater's Before Sunrise, and while that film is executed much differently, they both harbor this constant feeling of warm, romantic fate. And I won't even start to dig much deeper or even scratch the surface with the Shakespeare material this film wrestles with as well as some of the more intricate socratic dialogue that occurs between characters, as I don't feel capable enough to expand in those areas. But I know there's plenty more to come back to when I decide to cozy up and watch this during the next dreary winter day.
Tears of joy.