Agnes …

I delight in Agnes playfulness: you could nearly see her smiling behind or through the camera at times watching Le Bonheur. Alas it was not quite the film to watch when submerged in a melancholy over a recent death. Or perhaps…

Wonderful dresses, the colours, the cuts, the making of dresses. I like that people work in her films. In this film they construct things. Then Agnes shreds apart the noodles of ‘happiness’, these panoramas of frolicking children and cheerful mother and wife whose oh so obliging and oh so ready and the husband who just stands there commending and commanding her .. the children who comply, go to bed sans complaint , Until

he, hubby’s, slinging his hook and on and on til he does the soliloquy and it’s almost impossible to fathom this woman (wife) until of course she does what she does.

At 1.16 there’s a particularly captivating piece of music it again is underneath this series of “ideals” but there’s something very chronic and flustered in the music in contrast to the snapshots.

But the manner in which people go into the ground and might be forgotten whether it was fictional, a construct, was too much for this poor melted head. I’ll have to return to it, when the head returns to itself.

I did, while watching, cast off my Peig shawl I’ve been knitting for probably over a year, in dribbles. It looks odd but I fastened the two pieces the small Puffin knitted for me and I think it will be quite dandy.