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Holy Motors (2012)

A man wakes up with a dog in a strange room where silvery trees line the wallpaper. He finds a keyhole, fortunately he is uniquely gifted to open the door with the key which is grafted into his hand like a middle finger. Exiting, the walls flicker and walking down the corridor a movie is playing, an audience below watches with blank expressions. As the key-fingered man (who seems to have woken up in the projection booth) watches, a girl stares back at him from the silver screen, fading away on a space-age boat. Suddenly, the porthole becomes a window and a whole new narrative begins. It is unclear, deliberately, which movie we are in and indeed which audience we are. Are we the ones watching Holy Motors or have we become the mindless audience watching the silver screen within the film? Certainly it matters little except to show we cannot be sure of our perspective anymore, nor will it be the last time we feel this way. Continue reading

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