At what might be termed a difficult moment, there was no greater balm than the chance to watch Performance on the big screen for the first time. It’s a film I have seen and loved several times, but always on TV or a laptop. Details of the edit and the sound design shone through. There might be points of comparison, (Godard, Antonioni), but Cammell and Roeg genuinely push the envelope with the abrasive, atonal edit, especially in the opening minutes. It’s still striking today, so god knows what it must have been like when it came out. Added to the violence, sex and general sixties overdose, the film feels as fresh as a daisy. Whilst the social mix of Notting Hill might have changed almost beyond recognition, the film’s jangly, jarring unspiralling narrative would still probably have film execs sweating today. Surely they can’t do that? Oh yes they can. All of this is wedded to a garrulous british humour, located somewhere between Carry On and Sterne. There was a generous audience at Cinemateca and it was fascinating to see how they reacted with laughter and a clear sense of glee. This is/ was filmmaking done with panache, verve and technical brilliance. Jagger, Fox and Pallenberg have a ball. We are along for the ride to the vivid end of a Borges-tinted decade.
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