Robert Bresson's Pickpocket is an amazing exercise in tension in storytelling.
You feel the anxiety, the fear, the hopes, the dreams of a thief while sitting in your seat biting your knuckles.
The visuals and montages of a thief perfecting his craft seem almost like one artist's homage to another.
The dialogue implies that the characters almost seem to grasp what it is that they're doing, that they really are petty thieves, yet fall short to see the big picture. However the film looks at it through a veil of romance and a dirty window at the same time, never condemning their acts yet letting us know that even though we root for the characters, even though we claw the backs of our hands bloody with suspense, hoping they succeed every time, that what they are doing is a crime and a petty one at that. When walking out of the film you argue with yourself whether what they did was a necessary evil to survive or simply a selfish crime.
Until I see it again I won't write more than this but expect a detailed review in the forthcoming weeks.
This is a film filled with beautiful images, tension (as mentioned before) and has the advantage of containing one of the most romantic scenes ever put on film.
I highly recommend it, one of the greatest films I've seen in a long time.
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