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To make a film about a poet, it is necessary to move away from all cinematographic purpose, all technical language, all aestheticizing intention; we should just think like him, in terms of image and animism, of arrow and spell. The film in question will then be a tree and every facet of his work a branch, the trunk his life. Thus this incipient metaphor will evolve in the form of the film, the body of the image is henceforth encircled by the cortex of sound, whose independent relief segregates its own layers of meaning, the cavities through which the silence of an army of ants searches for its center. |