I watched Hiroshima Mon Amour last night. It was Alain Resnais’ first feature film and Marguerite Duras’ first script. It was also the movie that sent me to film school.
I’m not sure what caused me to look him up, what train of thought got me to google his name on a quiet Sunday morning, but there he was, toothless with wild white hair surrounded by pigeons on a park bench in San Francisco. The chin gave him away.
