La Tristesse Review from Embryo House!
Me and my Partner in Gore, Willow Brian like to know as less as possible about a film which we’re going to review, thus we can wade in with a clear head and expect the movie to reveal itself to us in glorious waves which unwrap the excellence inside.
All we got from Vivian Kay Quinetero’s La Tristesse was a sense of loneliness, hating oneself, and a lot of nonsense colours and such, all filmed rather well with a brilliant accompaniment of music (some of which by Severed Cinema darling, White Gardenia, I discovered afterwards) very much in the style and delivery of Begotten (see review) and Befouled (see review) but at least they were (shockingly considering the contents) far more clear.
Like an old movie the visuals in La Tristesse are grainy and what colours appear are washed out, almost sepia. There’s lashings of ominous music which touched us both instantly, plus long shots of windows which hover scarily among the audio-scape. At this time, we were smiling, ready for one hell of a journey. The whole experience within the first few minutes is of death, loathing, sadness, giving out an almost post apocalypse sense. The colours and camera flickers around constantly — this is a trip. It feels almost as if you’re an intruder, or a voyeur, or simply somebody allowed access to a private life.
There’s a melancholy lone person sat at the window, dipping their tea bag into a cup. This person is hollow, you can read their expression to perfection. Empty like the empty vase placed before them on the table.
Next is the first highlight for us, a cat, swinging its wonderfully large tail. Oh, how we adore a feline with such a swinging tail. Yet again the feeling of sadness drops over the cat. It’s the music and long takes which give out the emotion. This tenant has an awesome DVD collection on show, very serious extreme movies to behold – Carcinoma (see review) XXX Dark Web (see review) Tantrum, Flesh Eater X, Tumbling Doll of Flesh (see review), and many more reviewed on the pages of Severed Cinema. We don’t mess about, we’re the elite of sickness here!!!
The woman tries sleeping on a granny design sofa, noises upon the soundtrack are disturbing them, obviously we’re hearing what’s within their head. “Who falls asleep with their glasses on?” grumbled Willow, “They’re asleep!” Plus, due to the camera angle it looks like a cup is balanced on their head like a circus act. Once I pointed that out, we both crumbled into laughter which sort of ruined the mood a bit. Note for future: we’re a couple of childish fucktards!
Now there’s a bridge burning so we assume this is a dream? Yeah, because there’s a masked man surgically cutting into a cranium, clamps applied, and such. “Nice mask,” grinned Willow. The main character wakes up in different clothes, then sits on a chair. Are we still in the dream? It’s such a desolate room? It’s barren. They sit endlessly. Curtains by their sides like huge dark wings. What comes next is loads of surreal almost ritualistic images and set pieces, reminding me so much of Begotten now in styles and colours.
There is another prolonged sequence as somebody grabs themselves, but it’s all over-distorted to the point of being irritating. The chair stands empty. Thus, we continue onwards.
I think the problem with La Tristesse is if you have a personal experience or feeling which, you wish to put out, maybe to be recognised by others or just yourself, yet everything is too muddled up and weighed down by sheer pompous arrogance as if to state: “My intelligence is more superior, I have made this film, and that’s why you cannot totally understand it!” There is, however, a lot of care and work gone into the presentation. Most of it is beautiful. It all exists for one purpose or another. There is a humming power throughout, yet nothing solid to grasp onto. It becomes a maelstrom of over-the-top headfuck noises that makes you reach for the fast forward button more than once.
They do flick through a book filled with coloured circles and shapes, then self-harm. Is it trauma and the masked entity a memory? That section kind of pointed somewhere at least. The cat does have a gorgeous tail, however.
Whilst most films of this nature and existence have aims and direction, La Tristesse is scatter shot, all over the place. Yes, a few of the sets are art pieces, recalling early classic works. I get the feeling it’s like a painting where the artist who has given birth simply throws so much onto the canvass and steps back to see their creation, but in this case unfortunately, a lonely afterbirth slides off to the floor.
Did the equations mean something? Two spirals? As Willow pointed out, one goes a certain way, the other opposite so did that mean regression? Who knows? It’s a guess, I suppose that’s a positive. It made us have a think, but moments later we were bored by the thoughts because the film has nothing to it really. Personally, I love abstract and experimental movies, but this was for the most, lacking any soul.
Directed by: Vivian Kay Quinetero
Written by: Vivian Kay Quinetero
Produced by: Marcus Koch, Ryan Spengler, Anders Hartvedt, Vivian Kay Quinetero
Cinematography by: Vivian Kay Quinetero
Editing by: Vivian Kay Quinetero
Music by: White Gardenia, Coffin Birth
Special Effects by: Dancing Corpse Studios
Cast: Vivian Kay Quinetero, Augusto, K Lunsford
Year: 2022
Language: Silent
Colour: Colour
Runtime: 27min
Studio: Embryo House
