C’è stato un tempo, non troppo lontano, in cui al cinema d’autore era rivolto «un culto esigente e minuzioso». Un tempo in cui si poteva facilmente transitare dalla realtà ordinaria a un altrove extramondano solo varcando la soglia di quel tempio laico che era la sala di un cineclub. «E cos’altro vediamo al cinema, cos’altro ci mostra un film, fosse anche il più stupido e insignificante dei film, se non l’aldilà?».
https://www.nytimes.com/1970/02/22/archives/antonioni-defends-zabriskie-point-i-love-this-country.html
MAMA mia! Michelangelo Antoni oni has a right to sing the blues. Until a few days ago, he was sit ting on top of the movie world: the establishment critics endorsed him, the auteur crowd adored him, the public stood in line and paid for the privilege of applauding him. Everybody dug his dissection of the bored Italian bour geoisie in “L'Avventura” and “La Notte” and “Eclipse” and “Red Desert,” and they grooved merrily along with the dissolute London swingers in “Blow‐Up.”
MAMA mia! Michelangelo Antoni oni has a right to sing the blues. Until a few days ago, he was sit ting on top of the movie world: the establishment critics endorsed him, the auteur crowd adored him, the public stood in line and paid for the privilege of applauding him. Everybody dug his dissection of the bored Italian bour geoisie in “L'Avventura” and “La Notte” and “Eclipse” and “Red Desert,” and they grooved merrily along with the dissolute London swingers in “Blow‐Up.”

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