One of the reasons I love filmmakers like Lars von Trier and Quentin Tarantino is their use of chapters in their films. Each one is its own distinct “flavor” and gives the grand picture a sense of “uniqueness” that leaves us, the viewer, much more to chew on once the film’s ended and asks us to analyze and interpret its sense and meaning.
A great example with von Trier is his chapters for “Nymph()maniac”. Each chapter has its own unique name and design, what could be the culmination of literature, music and art into cinema to an ultimate doctrine.
I hope this doesn’t come off as too “pretentious” sounding.
- It was as everything about him was different, which of course wasn’t and I knew that in my head and I scolded myself for seeing him in this new light. - Love is blind. - No, no, no, it’s worse. Love distorts things. Or even worse, love is something you’ve never asked for. The erotic was something I asked for, or even demanded of men, but this idiotic love, I felt humiliated by it, and all the dishonesty that follows. The erotic is about saying yes, love appeals to the lowest instincts wrapped up in lies. How do you say yes when you mean no, e viceversa? I’m ashamed of what I became, but it was beyond my control.