A flight is only achieved by writing and discovering, beyond the structured appears the abstract, the “shape of the spirit”. Rivette emerges as a mysterious filmmaker who refers to that abstraction, to the most essential conception of art as a metaphor that transforms into a fissure and shows another dimension of reality.
Enigmas, plots, conspiracies that imply some type of search and transform everything into uncertainty. The symmetry of theater-reality, a game of mirrors that reflects our hidden order, our artifice, our masks and our vulnerability. The division of the world into small closed societies, separated by unknown borders, is a permanent filigree in Rivette’s films and corresponds, in a certain way, to a magical vision of the universe.
Rivette builds a world that floats like a ghost full of omens, a Paris that surrenders to intrigue; he takes us to haunted houses, dance floors, to lived and memory times where parallel universes converge in an infinite point, a vanishing point that we, already as accomplices, can only presage it’s been already crossed.