i’ve been seeing screenshots of Cracks floating around on various blogs and other places on the web since it was released, which painted the film as being quite dreamy and beautiful. i felt the complete opposite while watching it, however, something you will probably understand if you have seen the film yourself. i can’t say i enjoyed it. not that it matters – that’s not the point of this exercise.

i paired scenes from the film with paintings by post-impressionist Moise Kisling - there’s an underlying sense of unease in his work, especially his portraits… something that i felt throughout the film. Hila’s poem follows.

edit: felt i needed to add a post-script after Kate’s comment below, i only found out that the film was based on a book after i had watched it. not only that, but it is written by south african born author sheila kohler and set in a south african boarding school (nogal)

words by Hila Schachar

paintings from top to bottom: untitled ; les enfants du docteur tas, louis et zoucha ; portrait de femme ; ofelia ; nu couchi dans les feuillages ; les mains ; tulips ; untitled ; l’attente ; eve ; la naufragée

the first film is bright star directed by jane campion, which tells the story of the romance between fanny brawne and john keats. i paired stills from the film with paintings by edmund c. tarbell, an american impressionist who often painted portraits and scenes of his wife and children. hila’s piece of fiction follows.

fanny brawne sits in a corner and watches an ailing man duplicate words. her needle tears and reforms incisively.

she imagines a tweed suit that can be gilded with unutterable sentences. she would sew this suit as armour, lain against a rapt chest that beats irregularly with illness.

she knows her woman’s work is really a form of enlivening. an act of creation and generosity.

fanny’s watching becomes a topic of fascination for someone who reads letters meant only for her. after her mother’s death, a young girl likes to sit in the enclosed space of a torn armchair, examining the cover, the pages, the smell of a book of letters with fanny’s name. this too is an act of evasive generosity, parcelled out through distance.

she mirrors what fanny creates. in her bed at night, she lays fabric before her and rips neat squares. they cover one another like a palimpsest. what clever fingers can do is bind the trauma of experience with love.

her mother liked the quiet contemplation of needlepoint. like praying, she would say. and so her prayers come as a form of domestic reconstitution, not sublime poetry. the revenant residue of someone who will be forgotten, while words remain.

fanny feels his straining beneath clothes as she sits in corners, wrapped in chairs like a cocoon. this evasion, this bodily separation, comes together through her sharp needle, moving in, moving out.

words by hila schachar.

paintings from top to bottom: the blue veil; across the room; girl reading; mother and mary; my daughter josephine; new england interior; the sisters; mary reading

also, admittedly, this post came about because of this photo of him that i saw on annette’s tumblr…

O_O

but enough leo talk. he’s a great actor – i do apologise for the bieber comparison (obviously comparing our mania for leo to the mania for bieber… not any other factors.) back to the aviator!

i need to watch this again, certainly from a visual perspective. cate blanchett is absolutely top notch as katharine hepburn, obviously (but i am quite puzzled as to why gwen stefani & kate beckinsale were even cast in this film.)

screencaps courtesy of cate blanchett fan

did you ever watch that simpsons episode where mr. burns loses it & he basically becomes howard hughes – “we’ll take the spruce moose! hop in!” haha, simpsons – i love you.

this was sort of an excuse just to look at jon hamm’s face. screencaps courtesy of  emma-jane & jon hamm source

photobooth image from the collection of snapatorium

click through to see sources, credits & the rest of the series.