I remember watching this in Media Studies back when I was fifteen.
First, let's get the joke out of the way. It was the best PowerPoint our teacher showed us. Moving on.
I have similar feelings towards it as I did then. La Jetée is creepy as all hell; the German whispering throughout is seriously unnerving, and does more than half a usual film's runtime could ever hope to achieve.
There's something about the story being told in pictures that makes it feel so authentic. These snapshots act as memories, parts of a greater whole. It's only the most personal moments-like the one, beautiful portion of actual video in the entire film-that stay as intact as possible in our minds. That one moment is what grounds everything before and after. For one brief portion of time, the world was, is, real; other memories fade slower because of it.
I remember the computer I watched this film on, in a class that undoubtedly wasn't photographed at the time. Our teacher interestingly made us watch it with headphones. Perhaps that's why the audio creeps me out to this day.
We watched 12 Monkeys (which this film heavily inspired) afterwards of course, the film we were actually studying at the time. But it was on a projector, over several days. I liked 12 Monkeys more at the time (it really is fantastic), however La Jetée is what really stuck with me after all these years. It's the one thing I remember really well from the class in that particular year. I wonder if that moment of time exists for any of the other students going through a weird French PowerPoint, or maybe for the teacher handing it out on USBs for the fourth year in a row. I suspect it doesn't.
First, let's get the joke out of the way. It was the best PowerPoint our teacher showed us. Moving on.
I have similar feelings towards it as I did then. La Jetée is creepy as all hell; the German whispering throughout is seriously unnerving, and does more than half a usual film's runtime could ever hope to achieve.
There's something about the story being told in pictures that makes it feel so authentic. These snapshots act as memories, parts of a greater whole. It's only the most personal moments-like the one, beautiful portion of actual video in the entire film-that stay as intact as possible in our minds. That one moment is what grounds everything before and after. For one brief portion of time, the world was, is, real; other memories fade slower because of it.
I remember the computer I watched this film on, in a class that undoubtedly wasn't photographed at the time. Our teacher interestingly made us watch it with headphones. Perhaps that's why the audio creeps me out to this day.
We watched 12 Monkeys (which this film heavily inspired) afterwards of course, the film we were actually studying at the time. But it was on a projector, over several days. I liked 12 Monkeys more at the time (it really is fantastic), however La Jetée is what really stuck with me after all these years. It's the one thing I remember really well from the class in that particular year. I wonder if that moment of time exists for any of the other students going through a weird French PowerPoint, or maybe for the teacher handing it out on USBs for the fourth year in a row. I suspect it doesn't.