You know those drab, mid-century French films where pale, thin guys in suits stare at each other with blank, unreadable expressions on there faces while a voiceover drones on describing this inaction with a slight undercurrent of pseudo-nihilism?  But, like, it’s somehow super thrilling AND deeply beautiful?  Robert Bresson brings his stripped-down style to this meditative procedural about a despondent, but highly-skilled criminal that set the standard for angsty crime films.

If you’d like to watch ahead for next week’s film, we will be discussing and reviewing Juraj Herz’s The Cremator (1969).