list http://www.spout.com/ Recent community activity around La vie moderne (Modern Life) on Spout Copyright 2005-9 Spout, LLC Spout RSS http://www.spout.com/images/SpoutLogoRSS.jpg http://www.spout.com/ 136 30 http://www.spout.com/films/La_vie_moderne_Modern_Life/373086/default.aspx Title: La vie moderne (Modern Life)
Year: 2008
Plot: Through a series of portraits, Raymond Depardon becomes a witness to farmers’ lives, values, and family stories: all that binds them to the land, and its legacy. He questions what will become of these people of the land.
Number of blog posts: 4
]]>Tue, 20 May 2008 15:01:46 GMTLa vie moderne (Modern Life)2008Through a series of portraits, Raymond Depardon becomes a witness to farmers’ lives, values, and family stories: all that binds them to the land, and its legacy. He questions what will become of these people of the land.4http://www.spout.com/ProductImages/s373086.jpghttp://www.spout.com/films/La_vie_moderne_Modern_Life/373086/default.aspxFilm http://www.spout.com/blogs/karina/archive/2008/5/20/29559.aspx Post By: Karina
Post To: Karina on SpoutBlog
Post Date: 5/20/2008 11:01:46 AM
Body: La Vie Moderne, playing here on the Un Certain Regard sidebar, is the third documentary portrait of a group of rural French dairy farmers that Raymond Depardon has made this decade, and as such, comparisons between Depardon’s overall project and Michael Apted’s 7 Up series are not unapt. But where Apted’s seven films across forty years have come to define a changing Britain through the personal evolutions of a single generation, Depardon paints a portrait of a region and a way of life that seems on the verge of almost certain collapse due to nothing more than the natural passage of time and collision of generations. Taking on the triple role of interviewer, cameraman and narrator, the filmmaker’s affection for and rapport with his subjects is obvious, his tenacious patience a welcome contrast to the aggression employed by so many self-referential documentarians. Depardon’s style of inquiry certainly requires more of an investment from his audience than fans of contemporary crowd-pleaser non-fiction might be used to, but it’s an investment that pays off. Where coarser filmmakers approach their subjects with laser-guided precision, essentially turning each question rhetorical, Depardon simply sets up a camera and has a conversation. In long, often unbroken takes, he slowly, gently chips away at his subject’s defenses until, apparently without realizing, they begin to unpack their own statements and reveal their true meanings The film is structured as a year-long roadtrip. Through footage shot on a camera mounted to Depardon’s dashboard, the filmmaker takes several minutes in between each location to envelop us into the terrain ahead of his destination, as Depardon goes from farm to farm and family to family, catching up (and catching us up) on what went on whilst he was away. It’s a documentary in which no event is actually directly documented; each subject simply sits down in front of Depardon’s camera and explains their version of events past and present, and a few months or years later, Depardon comes back to repeat the process and track how things have changed. More than anything else, this is a movie about the passage of time. The over all mood is somber, resigned. A once-dominant culture has become a sub-culture, and from there it’s petering out completely as patriarchy and matriarchs die. The younger farming families send their kids to boarding school and encourage the children who stay home to avoid the family business. Without family connections, those who wish to become farmers find it impossible. This is partially due to lack of demand, but there’s also the question of authenticity and legitimacy.The young mother from Lyon who wants to build a goat cheese business seems like a carpetbagger compared to the lifers caught on Depardon’s camera, who have never lived elsewhere and never contemplated an alternate career. There’s not a superfluous moment in the film, but most of the Moderne’s core ideas come across most beautifully in the narrative thread about the Privat family, who have appeared in each of Depardon’s farmer films. Brothers Marcel and Raymond are in their 80s, and though both still tend to their goat and sheep daily. When the film begins, nephew Alain has just married a woman he met via personal ad, and has moved his new wife and stepdaughter into a separate house on the Privat farm. Alain’s uncles never married, and they bristle at the introduction of an independently-minded woman an her young daughter into this “family of bachelors.” Within a long, funny and seemingly unedited single-camera interview, Depardon gently breaks down the Privats’ polite defenses. “I don’t like being pushed around,” Marcel finally complains. The threat posed by Alain’s wife to Marcel and Raymond’s solitude and autonomy is a neat metaphor for the anxieties that run spoken and unspoken throughout the entire film, about the encroachment of technology on tradition and the passage of time. Originally posted on:SpoutBlog » Karina Longworth
]]>Tue, 20 May 2008 15:01:46 GMTKarinaKarina on SpoutBlog5/20/2008 11:01:46 AM La Vie Moderne, playing here on the Un Certain Regard sidebar, is the third documentary portrait of a group of rural French dairy farmers that Raymond Depardon has made this decade, and as such, comparisons between Depardon’s overall project and Michael Apted’s 7 Up series are not unapt. But where Apted’s seven films across forty years have come to define a changing Britain through the personal evolutions of a single generation, Depardon paints a portrait of a region and a way of life that seems on the verge of almost certain collapse due to nothing more than the natural passage of time and collision of generations. Taking on the triple role of interviewer, cameraman and narrator, the filmmaker’s affection for and rapport with his subjects is obvious, his tenacious patience a welcome contrast to the aggression employed by so many self-referential documentarians. Depardon’s style of inquiry certainly requires more of an investment from his audience than fans of contemporary crowd-pleaser non-fiction might be used to, but it’s an investment that pays off. Where coarser filmmakers approach their subjects with laser-guided precision, essentially turning each question rhetorical, Depardon simply sets up a camera and has a conversation. In long, often unbroken takes, he slowly, gently chips away at his subject’s defenses until, apparently without realizing, they begin to unpack their own statements and reveal their true meanings The film is structured as a year-long roadtrip. Through footage shot on a camera mounted to Depardon’s dashboard, the filmmaker takes several minutes in between each location to envelop us into the terrain ahead of his destination, as Depardon goes from farm to farm and family to family, catching up (and catching us up) on what went on whilst he was away. It’s a documentary in which no event is actually directly documented; each subject simply sits down in front of Depardon’s camera and explains their version of events past and present, and a few months or years later, Depardon comes back to repeat the process and track how things have changed. More than anything else, this is a movie about the passage of time. The over all mood is somber, resigned. A once-dominant culture has become a sub-culture, and from there it’s petering out completely as patriarchy and matriarchs die. The younger farming families send their kids to boarding school and encourage the children who stay home to avoid the family business. Without family connections, those who wish to become farmers find it impossible. This is partially due to lack of demand, but there’s also the question of authenticity and legitimacy.The young mother from Lyon who wants to build a goat cheese business seems like a carpetbagger compared to the lifers caught on Depardon’s camera, who have never lived elsewhere and never contemplated an alternate career. There’s not a superfluous moment in the film, but most of the Moderne’s core ideas come across most beautifully in the narrative thread about the Privat family, who have appeared in each of Depardon’s farmer films. Brothers Marcel and Raymond are in their 80s, and though both still tend to their goat and sheep daily. When the film begins, nephew Alain has just married a woman he met via personal ad, and has moved his new wife and stepdaughter into a separate house on the Privat farm. Alain’s uncles never married, and they bristle at the introduction of an independently-minded woman an her young daughter into this “family of bachelors.” Within a long, funny and seemingly unedited single-camera interview, Depardon gently breaks down the Privats’ polite defenses. “I don’t like being pushed around,” Marcel finally complains. The threat posed by Alain’s wife to Marcel and Raymond’s solitude and autonomy is a neat metaphor for the anxieties that run spoken and unspoken throughout the entire film, about the encroachment of technology on tradition and the passage of time. Originally posted on:SpoutBlog » Karina Longworth http://www.spout.com/blogs/spoutblog/archive/2008/5/20/29558.aspx Post By: SpoutBlog
Post To: SpoutBlog on spout.com
Post Date: 5/20/2008 11:01:26 AM
Body: La Vie Moderne, playing here on the Un Certain Regard sidebar, is the third documentary portrait of a group of rural French dairy farmers that Raymond Depardon has made this decade, and as such, comparisons between Depardon’s overall project and Michael Apted’s 7 Up series are not unapt. But where Apted’s seven films across forty years have come to define a changing Britain through the personal evolutions of a single generation, Depardon paints a portrait of a region and a way of life that seems on the verge of almost certain collapse due to nothing more than the natural passage of time and collision of generations. Taking on the triple role of interviewer, cameraman and narrator, the filmmaker’s affection for and rapport with his subjects is obvious, his tenacious patience a welcome contrast to the aggression employed by so many self-referential documentarians. Depardon’s style of inquiry certainly requires more of an investment from his audience than fans of contemporary crowd-pleaser non-fiction might be used to, but it’s an investment that pays off. Where coarser filmmakers approach their subjects with laser-guided precision, essentially turning each question rhetorical, Depardon simply sets up a camera and has a conversation. In long, often unbroken takes, he slowly, gently chips away at his subject’s defenses until, apparently without realizing, they begin to unpack their own statements and reveal their true meanings The film is structured as a year-long roadtrip. Through footage shot on a camera mounted to Depardon’s dashboard, the filmmaker takes several minutes in between each location to envelop us into the terrain ahead of his destination, as Depardon goes from farm to farm and family to family, catching up (and catching us up) on what went on whilst he was away. It’s a documentary in which no event is actually directly documented; each subject simply sits down in front of Depardon’s camera and explains their version of events past and present, and a few months or years later, Depardon comes back to repeat the process and track how things have changed. More than anything else, this is a movie about the passage of time. The over all mood is somber, resigned. A once-dominant culture has become a sub-culture, and from there it’s petering out completely as patriarchy and matriarchs die. The younger farming families send their kids to boarding school and encourage the children who stay home to avoid the family business. Without family connections, those who wish to become farmers find it impossible. This is partially due to lack of demand, but there’s also the question of authenticity and legitimacy.The young mother from Lyon who wants to build a goat cheese business seems like a carpetbagger compared to the lifers caught on Depardon’s camera, who have never lived elsewhere and never contemplated an alternate career. There’s not a superfluous moment in the film, but most of the Moderne’s core ideas come across most beautifully in the narrative thread about the Privat family, who have appeared in each of Depardon’s farmer films. Brothers Marcel and Raymond are in their 80s, and though both still tend to their goat and sheep daily. When the film begins, nephew Alain has just married a woman he met via personal ad, and has moved his new wife and stepdaughter into a separate house on the Privat farm. Alain’s uncles never married, and they bristle at the introduction of an independently-minded woman an her young daughter into this “family of bachelors.” Within a long, funny and seemingly unedited single-camera interview, Depardon gently breaks down the Privats’ polite defenses. “I don’t like being pushed around,” Marcel finally complains. The threat posed by Alain’s wife to Marcel and Raymond’s solitude and autonomy is a neat metaphor for the anxieties that run spoken and unspoken throughout the entire film, about the encroachment of technology on tradition and the passage of time. Originally posted on:SpoutBlog
]]>Tue, 20 May 2008 15:01:26 GMTSpoutBlogSpoutBlog on spout.com5/20/2008 11:01:26 AM La Vie Moderne, playing here on the Un Certain Regard sidebar, is the third documentary portrait of a group of rural French dairy farmers that Raymond Depardon has made this decade, and as such, comparisons between Depardon’s overall project and Michael Apted’s 7 Up series are not unapt. But where Apted’s seven films across forty years have come to define a changing Britain through the personal evolutions of a single generation, Depardon paints a portrait of a region and a way of life that seems on the verge of almost certain collapse due to nothing more than the natural passage of time and collision of generations. Taking on the triple role of interviewer, cameraman and narrator, the filmmaker’s affection for and rapport with his subjects is obvious, his tenacious patience a welcome contrast to the aggression employed by so many self-referential documentarians. Depardon’s style of inquiry certainly requires more of an investment from his audience than fans of contemporary crowd-pleaser non-fiction might be used to, but it’s an investment that pays off. Where coarser filmmakers approach their subjects with laser-guided precision, essentially turning each question rhetorical, Depardon simply sets up a camera and has a conversation. In long, often unbroken takes, he slowly, gently chips away at his subject’s defenses until, apparently without realizing, they begin to unpack their own statements and reveal their true meanings The film is structured as a year-long roadtrip. Through footage shot on a camera mounted to Depardon’s dashboard, the filmmaker takes several minutes in between each location to envelop us into the terrain ahead of his destination, as Depardon goes from farm to farm and family to family, catching up (and catching us up) on what went on whilst he was away. It’s a documentary in which no event is actually directly documented; each subject simply sits down in front of Depardon’s camera and explains their version of events past and present, and a few months or years later, Depardon comes back to repeat the process and track how things have changed. More than anything else, this is a movie about the passage of time. The over all mood is somber, resigned. A once-dominant culture has become a sub-culture, and from there it’s petering out completely as patriarchy and matriarchs die. The younger farming families send their kids to boarding school and encourage the children who stay home to avoid the family business. Without family connections, those who wish to become farmers find it impossible. This is partially due to lack of demand, but there’s also the question of authenticity and legitimacy.The young mother from Lyon who wants to build a goat cheese business seems like a carpetbagger compared to the lifers caught on Depardon’s camera, who have never lived elsewhere and never contemplated an alternate career. There’s not a superfluous moment in the film, but most of the Moderne’s core ideas come across most beautifully in the narrative thread about the Privat family, who have appeared in each of Depardon’s farmer films. Brothers Marcel and Raymond are in their 80s, and though both still tend to their goat and sheep daily. When the film begins, nephew Alain has just married a woman he met via personal ad, and has moved his new wife and stepdaughter into a separate house on the Privat farm. Alain’s uncles never married, and they bristle at the introduction of an independently-minded woman an her young daughter into this “family of bachelors.” Within a long, funny and seemingly unedited single-camera interview, Depardon gently breaks down the Privats’ polite defenses. “I don’t like being pushed around,” Marcel finally complains. The threat posed by Alain’s wife to Marcel and Raymond’s solitude and autonomy is a neat metaphor for the anxieties that run spoken and unspoken throughout the entire film, about the encroachment of technology on tradition and the passage of time. Originally posted on:SpoutBlog http://www.spout.com/blogs/karina/archive/2008/5/19/29455.aspx Post By: Karina
Post To: Karina on SpoutBlog
Post Date: 5/19/2008 11:01:31 AM
Body: Before I get too deep into my Cannes coverage, it seems like it would be useful to explain the difference between the Marche du Film (AKA the market) and the festival proper. The Cannes Film Festival is what most people think of when they think of Cannes––it’s the flashy, sophisticated, exclusive showcase for the world’s finest and most famous filmmakers, and it’s curated within an inch of its life. The market is kind of like a free-for-all sideshow. There are no red carpet premieres or filmmaker Q & A’s, and most of the films play in tiny screening rooms in hotels or the Palais. Every film (or portion of a film––producers will sometimes screen show reels in order to raise funds or entice distributors before production is completed) in the Marche is for sale, and none have been vetted by a screening committee. This allows for an extraordinarily wide spectrum of quality. Earlier today, IFC announced that they’ve purchased US distribution rights to Olivier Assayas’ Summer Hours, a film that’s not in the Festival but is screening in the Marche with no restrictions on what kind of market badge holder is allowed to see it. But such a classy title screening quietly in the market seems to be unusual. More typical Marche fare includes Jean Claude Van Damme mock-biopic JCVD and Repo! The Genetic Opera, a horror musical starring Paris Hilton and Paul Sorvino; for whatever reason, both of these titles are screening by invitation only. I have a market pass this year, and I spent much of my first two days in town meticulously combing through the market guide, taking note of both the surprise gems (I didn’t know there WAS a new Olivier Assayas film until I saw it listed in the guide) and the weirdly irresistible crap. Over the next few days, I’ll be highlighting some of the biggest WTF?s that this year’s Marche has to offer. And where better to start with weirdly irresistible WTF? crap than with Uwe Boll? I didn’t know HE had a new movie until I saw it in the guide, either. So, it’s called Tunnel Rats. And it’s about Vietnam. Here’s the synopsis, copied straight from the guide and unedited: During the Vietnam War 1959-1975 a special US combat unit is sent out to hunt and kill the Viet Cong soldiers in a man-to-man combat in the endless tunnels underneath the jungle of Vietnam. Suicide squads of a special kind. Oooh, and there’s a trailer! It makes Tunnel Rats look a lot a movie based on a videogame based on Rescue Dawn. A representative scrap of dialogue: “I’m fucking dying, man! I’m fucking dying in this fucking hole!” Uwe Boll really has a way of cutting right to core of his character’s interior lives, don’t you think? Tunnel Rats screened once on Friday, before I got into town; as of this writing, I haven’t seen or heard a word about how that screening went. It’s scheduled to play again this afternoon, but I have yet to decide whether or not to skip Raymond Depardon’s probably legitimately amazing documentary La Vie Moderne in order to behold Boll’s, um, different brand of amazements. Advice? Originally posted on:SpoutBlog » Karina Longworth
]]>Mon, 19 May 2008 15:01:31 GMTKarinaKarina on SpoutBlog5/19/2008 11:01:31 AM Before I get too deep into my Cannes coverage, it seems like it would be useful to explain the difference between the Marche du Film (AKA the market) and the festival proper. The Cannes Film Festival is what most people think of when they think of Cannes––it’s the flashy, sophisticated, exclusive showcase for the world’s finest and most famous filmmakers, and it’s curated within an inch of its life. The market is kind of like a free-for-all sideshow. There are no red carpet premieres or filmmaker Q & A’s, and most of the films play in tiny screening rooms in hotels or the Palais. Every film (or portion of a film––producers will sometimes screen show reels in order to raise funds or entice distributors before production is completed) in the Marche is for sale, and none have been vetted by a screening committee. This allows for an extraordinarily wide spectrum of quality. Earlier today, IFC announced that they’ve purchased US distribution rights to Olivier Assayas’ Summer Hours, a film that’s not in the Festival but is screening in the Marche with no restrictions on what kind of market badge holder is allowed to see it. But such a classy title screening quietly in the market seems to be unusual. More typical Marche fare includes Jean Claude Van Damme mock-biopic JCVD and Repo! The Genetic Opera, a horror musical starring Paris Hilton and Paul Sorvino; for whatever reason, both of these titles are screening by invitation only. I have a market pass this year, and I spent much of my first two days in town meticulously combing through the market guide, taking note of both the surprise gems (I didn’t know there WAS a new Olivier Assayas film until I saw it listed in the guide) and the weirdly irresistible crap. Over the next few days, I’ll be highlighting some of the biggest WTF?s that this year’s Marche has to offer. And where better to start with weirdly irresistible WTF? crap than with Uwe Boll? I didn’t know HE had a new movie until I saw it in the guide, either. So, it’s called Tunnel Rats. And it’s about Vietnam. Here’s the synopsis, copied straight from the guide and unedited: During the Vietnam War 1959-1975 a special US combat unit is sent out to hunt and kill the Viet Cong soldiers in a man-to-man combat in the endless tunnels underneath the jungle of Vietnam. Suicide squads of a special kind. Oooh, and there’s a trailer! It makes Tunnel Rats look a lot a movie based on a videogame based on Rescue Dawn. A representative scrap of dialogue: “I’m fucking dying, man! I’m fucking dying in this fucking hole!” Uwe Boll really has a way of cutting right to core of his character’s interior lives, don’t you think? Tunnel Rats screened once on Friday, before I got into town; as of this writing, I haven’t seen or heard a word about how that screening went. It’s scheduled to play again this afternoon, but I have yet to decide whether or not to skip Raymond Depardon’s probably legitimately amazing documentary La Vie Moderne in order to behold Boll’s, um, different brand of amazements. Advice? Originally posted on:SpoutBlog » Karina Longworth http://www.spout.com/blogs/spoutblog/archive/2008/5/19/29454.aspx Post By: SpoutBlog
Post To: SpoutBlog on spout.com
Post Date: 5/19/2008 11:01:23 AM
Body: Before I get too deep into my Cannes coverage, it seems like it would be useful to explain the difference between the Marche du Film (AKA the market) and the festival proper. The Cannes Film Festival is what most people think of when they think of Cannes––it’s the flashy, sophisticated, exclusive showcase for the world’s finest and most famous filmmakers, and it’s curated within an inch of its life. The market is kind of like a free-for-all sideshow. There are no red carpet premieres or filmmaker Q & A’s, and most of the films play in tiny screening rooms in hotels or the Palais. Every film (or portion of a film––producers will sometimes screen show reels in order to raise funds or entice distributors before production is completed) in the Marche is for sale, and none have been vetted by a screening committee. This allows for an extraordinarily wide spectrum of quality. Earlier today, IFC announced that they’ve purchased US distribution rights to Olivier Assayas’ Summer Hours, a film that’s not in the Festival but is screening in the Marche with no restrictions on what kind of market badge holder is allowed to see it. But such a classy title screening quietly in the market seems to be unusual. More typical Marche fare includes Jean Claude Van Damme mock-biopic JCVD and Repo! The Genetic Opera, a horror musical starring Paris Hilton and Paul Sorvino; for whatever reason, both of these titles are screening by invitation only. I have a market pass this year, and I spent much of my first two days in town meticulously combing through the market guide, taking note of both the surprise gems (I didn’t know there WAS a new Olivier Assayas film until I saw it listed in the guide) and the weirdly irresistible crap. Over the next few days, I’ll be highlighting some of the biggest WTF?s that this year’s Marche has to offer. And where better to start with weirdly irresistible WTF? crap than with Uwe Boll? I didn’t know HE had a new movie until I saw it in the guide, either. So, it’s called Tunnel Rats. And it’s about Vietnam. Here’s the synopsis, copied straight from the guide and unedited: During the Vietnam War 1959-1975 a special US combat unit is sent out to hunt and kill the Viet Cong soldiers in a man-to-man combat in the endless tunnels underneath the jungle of Vietnam. Suicide squads of a special kind. Oooh, and there’s a trailer! It makes Tunnel Rats look a lot a movie based on a videogame based on Rescue Dawn. A representative scrap of dialogue: “I’m fucking dying, man! I’m fucking dying in this fucking hole!” Uwe Boll really has a way of cutting right to core of his character’s interior lives, don’t you think? Tunnel Rats screened once on Friday, before I got into town; as of this writing, I haven’t seen or heard a word about how that screening went. It’s scheduled to play again this afternoon, but I have yet to decide whether or not to skip Raymond Depardon’s probably legitimately amazing documentary La Vie Moderne in order to behold Boll’s, um, different brand of amazements. Advice? Originally posted on:SpoutBlog
]]>Mon, 19 May 2008 15:01:23 GMTSpoutBlogSpoutBlog on spout.com5/19/2008 11:01:23 AM Before I get too deep into my Cannes coverage, it seems like it would be useful to explain the difference between the Marche du Film (AKA the market) and the festival proper. The Cannes Film Festival is what most people think of when they think of Cannes––it’s the flashy, sophisticated, exclusive showcase for the world’s finest and most famous filmmakers, and it’s curated within an inch of its life. The market is kind of like a free-for-all sideshow. There are no red carpet premieres or filmmaker Q & A’s, and most of the films play in tiny screening rooms in hotels or the Palais. Every film (or portion of a film––producers will sometimes screen show reels in order to raise funds or entice distributors before production is completed) in the Marche is for sale, and none have been vetted by a screening committee. This allows for an extraordinarily wide spectrum of quality. Earlier today, IFC announced that they’ve purchased US distribution rights to Olivier Assayas’ Summer Hours, a film that’s not in the Festival but is screening in the Marche with no restrictions on what kind of market badge holder is allowed to see it. But such a classy title screening quietly in the market seems to be unusual. More typical Marche fare includes Jean Claude Van Damme mock-biopic JCVD and Repo! The Genetic Opera, a horror musical starring Paris Hilton and Paul Sorvino; for whatever reason, both of these titles are screening by invitation only. I have a market pass this year, and I spent much of my first two days in town meticulously combing through the market guide, taking note of both the surprise gems (I didn’t know there WAS a new Olivier Assayas film until I saw it listed in the guide) and the weirdly irresistible crap. Over the next few days, I’ll be highlighting some of the biggest WTF?s that this year’s Marche has to offer. And where better to start with weirdly irresistible WTF? crap than with Uwe Boll? I didn’t know HE had a new movie until I saw it in the guide, either. So, it’s called Tunnel Rats. And it’s about Vietnam. Here’s the synopsis, copied straight from the guide and unedited: During the Vietnam War 1959-1975 a special US combat unit is sent out to hunt and kill the Viet Cong soldiers in a man-to-man combat in the endless tunnels underneath the jungle of Vietnam. Suicide squads of a special kind. Oooh, and there’s a trailer! It makes Tunnel Rats look a lot a movie based on a videogame based on Rescue Dawn. A representative scrap of dialogue: “I’m fucking dying, man! I’m fucking dying in this fucking hole!” Uwe Boll really has a way of cutting right to core of his character’s interior lives, don’t you think? Tunnel Rats screened once on Friday, before I got into town; as of this writing, I haven’t seen or heard a word about how that screening went. It’s scheduled to play again this afternoon, but I have yet to decide whether or not to skip Raymond Depardon’s probably legitimately amazing documentary La Vie Moderne in order to behold Boll’s, um, different brand of amazements. Advice? Originally posted on:SpoutBlog