March 10, 2003 [Irréversible]
The camera lies on its side in exhausted despair and drags itself like a useless limb--and gets tossed in the air to tumble like that bone in 2001--but oh my Best Beloved, no jumpcut will take us where the air is clean and white and turning--then again, maybe both movies crane their necks to see that moment when murder changed everything and set in motion--no, joins the motion of the irreversible thing spinning way out there, of no help for all its blue serenity.
At the end--at the start--of Irréversible as the wrong head--oh, we'll find out the truth soon enough--is methodically crushed, I thought I had an opportunity to use my revulsion to walk out--but the camera spins in the humming dead space and takes me back--to my seat, to the past, all the way to blissful ignorance, everybody growing young again. But there is no consolation in going backward, just a trick of the light in a tunnel where the woman is crushed as well--just in time for her to go back to the party to make sure she will go back to the tunnel. It isn't fair to know, to remember--it does nothing for us as we move forward--because you see we're always going backward, every minute, sixty to zero.