One of the saddest moments in the cinema was the early death of Jean Eustache. The Mother and the Whore is still the best film I've come across, and I believe that this was his second and last feature. Like that first masterpiece, this film presents the most real and wrenching emotions in a simple way. Eustache is somehow able to dig through and find those harsh feelings that we try to walk on top of in everyday life. Quite simply, it is story about a boy who is growing up. He lives in a smaller French city, the name escapes me, although I seem to remember looking it up when I watched it last week. The boy comes from a humble family. They are normal people, far unlike the overprivileged scoundrels that asphyxiate the cinema.
Watching this film, one can tell that it is heavily autobiographical. He's opening up his life for us, something that the French may do too often, but is welcome when the results are fair. Obviously, this is a must see for anyone in these circles. It has the simple poetry from the previous film, and is altogether more sincere than anything you'll find elsewhere.