In a bland, sterile, heavily automated future where dying from terminal illness has become virtually obsolete, the fact that best-selling writer Katherine Mortenhoe (a fabulously fiery, feisty turn by Romy Schneider) has a rare mortal sickness that will bring about her untimely demise makes her a prime subject for a tasteless mondo-style live atrocity TV show. But the fiercely proud and self-sufficient Katherine refuses to prostitute her impending death into a hideous spectacle for a jaded audience's sick enjoyment. So amoral, opportunistic director Vincent (a sleazily appealing Harry Dean Stanton), the man responsible for the lurid, top-rated "Death Watch" series, has cameras implanted behind the eyes of eager beaver reporter Roddy (the one and only Harvey Keitel, who's excellent as usual). Roddy befriends the unsuspecting Katherine and secretly records her final days in all their ghastly intimacy.
Directed in a crisp, low-key, thoughtful manner by Bertrand Taverneir, with a lucid, intelligent, provocative script by Taverneir and David Rayfiel, sumptuous, prowling, appropriately voyeuristic cinematography by Pierre William Glenn, a beautifully melancholy tone, a frantic screaming violins classical music score by Antoine Duhamel, a deliberately gradual pace, and a lovely cameo by Max Von Sydow as Katherine's wise, reclusive schoolteacher father, this eerily prophetic and gravely philosophical film ruminates on a compelling variety of very timely and topical post-modern issues: technological advancements making it easier to invade a person's privacy and causing creativity to stagnate (Katherine's novels are actually written by a computer that she strictly programs ideas into), technology overwhelming mankind so greatly that it causes people to become unfeeling, dispassionate automatons, the morbidly irresistible allure of real life tragedy, man's denial of his own mortality, journalistic ethics, dying with your dignity intact, even fate vs. free will. A brilliant, moving, and most accomplished thinking man's science fiction gem.
Directed in a crisp, low-key, thoughtful manner by Bertrand Taverneir, with a lucid, intelligent, provocative script by Taverneir and David Rayfiel, sumptuous, prowling, appropriately voyeuristic cinematography by Pierre William Glenn, a beautifully melancholy tone, a frantic screaming violins classical music score by Antoine Duhamel, a deliberately gradual pace, and a lovely cameo by Max Von Sydow as Katherine's wise, reclusive schoolteacher father, this eerily prophetic and gravely philosophical film ruminates on a compelling variety of very timely and topical post-modern issues: technological advancements making it easier to invade a person's privacy and causing creativity to stagnate (Katherine's novels are actually written by a computer that she strictly programs ideas into), technology overwhelming mankind so greatly that it causes people to become unfeeling, dispassionate automatons, the morbidly irresistible allure of real life tragedy, man's denial of his own mortality, journalistic ethics, dying with your dignity intact, even fate vs. free will. A brilliant, moving, and most accomplished thinking man's science fiction gem.