Critics' Prize ex-aequo International Festival of Young Cinema of HYERES 1979. Whispers magnetize the cracks of the earth. The word slides along the metal spine of the city (Los Angeles, San Francisco perhaps). A shrillness destroys the perspectives, ambulance death carries its mechanical cry. Henry Miller tells, tells himself in a gravelly voice, sometimes inaudible, at the end of which there is always laughter. A laugh to contradict, because there is nothing to say. Words are only resonances, the expanded echo of a shattered life. In the hollow of the words there is the murky transparency of a reality diluted to tear apart, the artificial smile of the sordid to be painted over to the point of excess. There is the outstretched hand of desire to reform on the beyond of a sex. There is. . Always, always, from one word to the next, there is life to crackle until. . The ultimate dissonance, this scraping of life coagulated in the momentum of a last cry. The Ultimate Dissonance, a film made around, with, and beyond Henry Miller, the rest came from an old camera, Hollywood trash and a fierce determination to tear it all apart.
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