from Mother, I
Scene 32. Ext. Day.
Forward track following 001e008>Pierre on the way to church001e008>. 001e009>This is a silent, scabrous scene under the sign of mad laughter and convulsive self-consciousness.001e009> 001e010>The more the young man laughs and chokes at the memory of Rhea’s shameless words, the more he savors their turpitude001e010>, the more he craves to taste that wet shrine, the more he blesses her divine gift, and, face aflame, his entire body innervated by a strangling pleasure, he asks for death.
The camera moves from above to a darkened confessional: its lacy partition, shimmering shadows and rustling of priestly robes; a perfect vessel to convey Bataille’s libidinal logic: the more unutterable, excessive and sacrilegious our pleasures, the more we cling to them. Outside, the sky darkens; 001e014>lightning glares on a mangy dog eating his own vomit—overarching metaphor of man’s subjection to his dark pleasures001e014>. Inside, eager to recite his sins, Pierre like a delirious boxer, shifts his weight from one foot to the other as if 001e015>wavering between defiance and remorse, all the while reveling in the temptation to not betray his mother001e015>. 001e016>Now quite certain that he resembles her—like mother, like son—in vice and wickedness, he reels with happiness, knowing he’ll walk to the end of the earth in her footsteps.001e016>
A few notes of a bar song hang at the cut.