Sur notre jeunesse
Il n’est point fichu de parler de lui.
Literalement
incapable de repondre a une interview.
Peu importe.
Du moment qu’il continue de nous devisager, nous journalistes, dans cette sale de la Cinematheque Francaise qui consacre 4 mois a son Art.
Du moment qu’il continue de nous devisager, nous journalistes, dans cette sale de la Cinematheque Francaise qui consacre 4 mois a son Art.
Gus Van Sant n’a jamais fait
que ca.
Sa place a l’interieur de la
pop culture est celle du scribe magnetise, excite, doux voyeur tapi dans
l’ombre de la discretion.
Qui ne rate rien du spectacle
de la beaute en train de se consumer, heureuse, perdue.
Il faut le voir se pamer
devant River Phoenix ou Matt Dillon dans “Drugstore Cowboy” ou “ My Own Private
Idaho”.
De droles de films qui
parlaient de toxicomanie, de prostitution ou d’hommosexualite dans les annees
90, avec une effrontee liberte.
La liberte des gens qui ont
cesse de vouloir juger les autres.
La beaute prend ses droits
sur la morale, chez Gus Van Sant.
On lui accorde tous les
privileges.
Tout lui sera toujours
pardonne.
On peut se comporter comme
une biatch totale du moment qu’on est sublime.
A se rappeler Nicole Kidman dans “Prete a
tout”.
Gus Van Sant a cru a son tour
que si son film etait plastiquement seigneurial, il aurait le droit a un
suicide commercial.
Mais pas du tout.
Les studios ont voulu sa
mort pour avoir realise “Gerry”.
Un bijou unfrequentable.
Au point que Cannes soit
passee a cote.
Pas grave.
L’annee d’apres, en 2003, il
arrachait la Palme d’Or pour “Elephant”.
Et on ne traversera plus
jamais pareil les couloirs d’un campus…
On oublie trop que Gus Van
Sant n’aime rien tant que la musique et le silence.
Il a bien essaye de faire
croire que “Last Days” retracait les derniers jours de Kurt Cobain.
Mais le film ne raccontait
que son rapport au monde. La longue marche pour aller au bout de son mutisme.
Recemment, son oeuvre a perdu
de sa radicalite splendide.
Peu importe.
Car on prefere se rappeler
que dans “Last Days”, il y avait une ritournelle.
Et que le heros se donnait la
mort a la fin.
On se souvient qu’il etait
jeune et que la jeunesse l’aimait.
On se souvient des films
magnetiques de Gus Van Sant et on voudrait fermer les yeux.
Fermer les poings.
De peur que notre jeunesse ne
foute le camp…
De Giulia Ghica Dobre
Bucarest, Avril 2016.
On our youth…
He is bloody unable to talk about himself. Literally unable to respond to an interview.
Whatever.
As long as he continues to stare at us, journalists, in this hall of the Cinematheque Francaise that displays his Art for 4 months.
Gus Van Sant has never done anything else.
His place in the pop culture is that of the
magnetized scribe, so excited...
...a sweet voyeur lurking in the shadows of
discretion.
One that doesn’t miss a thing of the show of
beauty that is smoldering… happy… lost…
One should watch him swooning before River
Phoenix or Matt Dillon in "Drugstore Cowboy" and "My Own Private
Idaho."
Such
bizarre films that spoke of substance abuse, prostitution or homosexuality in
the 90s, with a cheeky kind of freedom.
The freedom of people who have ceased to constantly
want to judge others.
Beauty takes its rights on morality, in Gus
Van Sant’s films.
It is given all privileges.
Any of its sins is being forgiven.
It can act like a total biatch as long as
it is is priceless.
Just remember Nicole Kidman in " To Die for”.
Gus Van Sant has believed that if the film was plastically heavenly, he would be entitled to commercial suicide.
But not. The studios wanted his death for having directed "Gerry".
An unfrequentable gem.
To the point that Cannes has passed beside.
No problem.
The year after, in 2003, he tored the Palme
d'Or for "Elephant."
And ever since we never cross the same campus halls...
And ever since we never cross the same campus halls...
We forget too often that Gus Van Sant likes nothing better than music and silence.
He has tried to make us believe that
"Last Days" traced the last days of Kurt Cobain.
But the film was only telling of his relation to the world. Of the long walk to the end of his silence.
Recently, his work has lost its splendid radicalism.
Whatever.
Because we prefer to remember that in "Last Days," there was a jingle.
And that the hero was to commit suicide at the end.
We remember that he was young and youth loved him.
We remember the magnetic films of Gus Van Sant and we feel like closing our eyes.
Clentching our fists.
So affraid that our youth might bloody desappear….
by
Giulia Ghica Dobre
Bucharest, April 2016.
