'I'm the author, I see it!' No, I'm really glad that someone liked the tape, it seemed interesting, even funny (!!). But, rightly, it is interest and sympathy from the same category when people applaud the "artist" who took off his underwear on stage, stretched his ass and under strain spewed splashes of feces on the canvas from his anus. The resulting "work of art" is discussed, praised, found meaning in it. In general, if people do no harm to anyone, then let them praise themselves for such “art”. But it is clear what we are dealing with and how to treat it. To seek (and find!) value, beauty, and meaning where there is none is a separate skill possessed by “not just everyone.” But again, if people do not harm anyone, let them find value, beauty and meaning where there is none. No problem.
When we're gone, the movie's rating on imdb barely exceeded five (and then, 5.1 is too good for the job). On the Russian film search, he reached almost six. That's funny. I have noticed that the rating of many films on foreign imdb is higher than ours. And here, it turns out, on the contrary - the Russians appreciated the murky crafts of Damien Odul almost a whole point higher than the foreign viewer. Great. On the other hand, maybe there is something in this - Richard said more than once that he has special feelings with the Russian people, the Russian person takes especially to heart and especially appreciates the talent of a great actor. So an increased assessment of the work with Richard (albeit so murky) from the Russians is probably quite natural.
I watched the film with undisguised despondency. I never expected that after the riot of colors, extravaganzas and magnificence of comedies with the clumsy but so cute François Perrin/Pignon, I would see such an oppressive arthouse nonsense. Unfortunately, the film suffered the fate of the brainchild of the “genius” of the director-general, when the author literally does everything himself. The author has his own vision (often only he knows / understands), he knows how best, more precisely, how to do it. In fact, the output is a film ... for one person - for the author, who received the satisfaction of his own ambitions. The rest of the craft often remains unknown, which is quite logical. No, there are really talented wagons. Remember, for example, the same Truffaut - a great director, besides a great screenwriter (and then often took co-authors), and he was shot himself (and his play was convincing). Or Lelouch - and dominated everyone, and often stood behind the camera, and put his hand to the script. About Chaplin - man-all-inclusive - I'm completely silent. But the fact is that there are very few such genius universals, on a finger to count. And Damien Odul's attempt to classify himself among them is, to put it mildly, untenable. Odul in the film - and director, and screenwriter, and costumer, and decorator, and actor. Even if I stood up for the camera myself, so in general a complete set would be. However, the director can be sincerely thanked for his mercy, because the flow of his “author’s vision” lasts only 80 minutes, not more. The only thing that came to mind after the final credits was how unfortunate Richard had agreed to participate in this experiment. What a shame.
Admittedly, there is not the slightest desire to describe some scenes, explain the absurdity, dig into some details and so on. After all, is it worth insulting one’s own intellectual abilities, like those “aesthetics” who manage to find “deep meaning” in the works of the “artists” mentioned in the first paragraph of the review?
I proceed from the simple principle that people should like cinema, and here Truffaut's opinion is more than relevant, saying: "I do not want to talk bad about intellectuals, but I make films for the average viewer and prefer that the stories I tell be understood by everyone." Truly golden words. The unforgettable “Tall Blonde in a Black Shoe”, the magnificent “Daddy”, the enchanting “Unlucky”, the amazing “Do not lose sight of”, the masterpiece “Toy”, the mischievous “Umbrella Prick”, “Scattered”, “Escape”, the quite serious “Party in chess” ... – all this has watched (and fell in love) for more than one generation, millions of people, and millions will watch. But the craft called “When we will be gone” passed (quite deservedly) the love of the mass audience, and the tape won sympathy except for a narrow circle of people, let’s say, with a very peculiar taste. Every movie has its own audience.
2 out of 10
