L'ATALANTE (1934) **1/2 None of us are as bad as what our worst moments award us, none of us good enough to avoid them. Jean Vigo's film is full of poetic imagery, that transcends a plot that gets entirely serious with tedium. They can't all be great love stories, and everybody's got to be somewhere. Vigo 's father was an infamous anarchist, and Jean clearly had passions and sensibilities of his own, though conflicting ones, I believe. The central character in the film is arguably neither of the young newlyweds, but the bestial, ignorant, dull-witted, fascinated and at times nearly magnificent (in simplicity) aged worker. It's not proletariat vs. bourgeoisie-there are elements of that, but sympathies and criticisms on both sides. Though his inclination and instincts may have been to the contrary, it's the sympathies that are most pronounced, amplified by the foolish and extravagant impotence of both other sides of the equation. It's the humanity that shines through, that we're all as good as what we serve to our greatest moments, and that's surely what Jean wanted to leave us with.
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