Review of Céleste

I knew nothing about this film and it has been decades since I read the works of Proust. I was idly curious (if not curiously idle), and grew fascinated with the lassitude and gravitas of the film. Like the films of Ingmar Berman, "Celeste" invites the viewer to immerse in the dreamy sea--metaphorically. The silence--for there is little talking in the movie, and much relentless ticking of clocks--is hypnotic and, if one is prepared to yield to it, nearly irresistible. Of course, this being a film about Proust (and his female counterpart, Celeste) Time is the real star of the show, and is both protagonist and antagonist, its passing alluded to in every scene. Because of the hush and languid pace of the film, the viewer has long moments in which to enter imaginatively into the scene and hear the echoes of the few words spoken and to observe and interpret the two characters' delicate, erotic dance.

I was surprised by how thoroughly this film enchanted me.