Marco Bellocchio's Leap in the Dark, and then Fists in the pocket. That second one quite disturbing. I saw it over many days, bit by bit, turning it off whenever I was overwhelmed. Somewhat similar: The Dreamers, by Bernardo Bertolucci, but less disturbing, just as scandalizing/stunning though in a different way.
I've always marveled at and been fascinated with italian cinema, the old and the new. But these really pushed my boundaries, made me u comfortable, even watching them by myself.
I think I made him see Leap in the dark with me again but he doesn't view things as I do, doesn't dissect them and unwrap meanings...
But Anatomy of a Fall I dissected while watching with him a second time, that was quite a revelation of a movie without making me squirm in my seat. Should have been called Anatomy of a marriage, of growing up and old together, of finding fears and anxieties and rivalries and insecurities and ugliness within us as we grow, about the irrelevance of 'truth': I mean what does that even mean...? of perspectives and grey-ness and in betweens.
