Le scaphandre et le papillon (The Diving Bell and the Butterfly)

It struck me as I was walking home from International Cinema tonight how cinematography and photography share many commonalities. The one that kept coming back to me this evening was the ability to frame - a shot, a feeling, a story. Good photographs can be incredibly moving, but I personally find that moving photographs are more real - the detail and development breathe life into the story more easily than, for instance, a photo essay. The version of the film that I saw was likely slightly different than versions others have seen, but what I saw framed was an eloquent yet direct narrative about self-expression. As I walked my way briskly back to my apartment in the freezing temperatures, I watched my breath cloud my view. In reflecting on the film, being verbose seemed almost profane. I was reminded in that moment of Elder Holland's remarks not long ago, as he quoted parts of James "If any man offend not in word, the same is a perfect man, and able also to bridle the whole body." The power of words spoken, not spoken, regretted, and remembered fondly echo throughout the film amongst a montage of sounds and first or third person visual narrative. Warning: you may find, as I did, that the theatre is warm. My eyes were sweating like crazy. I'll have to read the book this summer.