“Originally planned as a ‘comedy’ about romantic isolation à la Eric Rohmer’s Le Rayon Vert (1986), the mordantly titled Vive l’amour indeed retains the skeleton of its inspiration – a woman’s emptied life, the interminable pregnancies of happenstance, an eleventh-hour glimpse o
A little nameless flower
in the crack of a huge mountain
“God is not made manifest in language, you dope. He’s not manifest in anything. He doesn’t exist... God was a mistake. I’ve long understood there is zero difference between me and a bug, or a bug and a river, or a river and a voice shouting above it. There’s no sense or meaning in anything.