Documentary: Faces, Places by Agnés Varda and JR





Yesterday I watched the documentary Faces Places by Agnès Varda and JR. Watching the documentary feels like traveling—across geography, experience, and lifetimes. Agnès Varda is 90 years old; JR is 35 years old. Together, they go on adventures and expeditions to rural French towns—as the movie puts it: “towards the landscape, towards the faces.“



Landscapes and faces—the landscapes that shape our experiences and the strangers who shape our world. I’m not certain if the English subtitles on the version I watched were entirely accurate. But the simple dialogue in the documentary feels both melancholy and beautiful. The documentary has been described in myriad ways by critics I searched online: charming, poignant, beguiling, searching, compassionate, provocative. I’m not a film critic (or any sort of critic), so I’ll leave the description and analysis to them. But here are some of my favorite lines from the documentary, sometimes funny and sometimes sad: There’s nothing to say. A hug. Better, isn’t it?

All this white salt makes me dream.

[...] and where there is water, there are fish

Do not give up, it’s very beautiful up here.

We can do our things. We are calm. We are on the planet.

It’s for fun, and for other reasons *

But you still have those damn glasses. It’s not friendly.

I try to offer you walls with holes.

The water is always right, and the wind, and the sand.

They are far away so I do not see them very clearly. But I see they are women-birds.

You have muscles in your wrinkles.

I have never fallen in a trap for rabbits, but this looks a lot like it.

We allow ourselves the right to imagine things. And we ask people: can we carry our imagination to your home?

Your feet and your eyes tell a story. They will go to many places that you will never go.

Should we look at the lake? * The best way to explain why I'm doing anything is definitely: for fun, and for other reasons