J’ai toujours pensé que Maurice Moss jouait Richard Ayoade plutôt que l’inverse. Ayoade on Top prouve que j’avais raison : ce pamphlet absurde et loufoque, éminemment ayoadien (je n’ai pas pu m’empêcher de le lire avec la diction de Moss) mais intensément britannique (comme seul le rejeton d’un père nigérian et d’une mère norvégienne peut l’être), est parvenu à me faire douter de l’existence de View From the Top. Mais tout est vrai dans « ce livre qui n’est pas juste un livre au sujet d’un film au sujet d’un chemin, mais aussi un livre au sujet de mon/notre chemin avec ce film au sujet d’un chemin », rien n’est superflu dans cette « prose méticuleuse d’un sous-genre quasi-littéraire difficile à définir ». Le point d’orgue de la carrière des futurs Pepper Potts et Bruce Banner réalisé par l’ex-beau-père d’un fils Spielberg est magnifiquement replacé dans la tradition hollywoodienne entre deux apartés qui vous feront économiser quelques séances de psy. Gwyneth Paltrow vend des œufs vaginaux, Richard Ayoade pond un monument littéraire, Dieu est dans les cieux et tout va pour le mieux.
Notes
Mais pas nous, Richard, pas nous :
Cinema helps us to remember that although we all have the right to shine, some of us must shine in the background, out of focus, and not too brightly.
La bibliothèque comme « problème logistique pour ceux qui me survivront » :
When I buy Finnegans Wake by James Joyce, the acquisitive part of me is buying it for the deluded part of me that thinks I’ll read it one day, while the archivist part of me keeps it on a shelf with all the other books I haven’t read, so that one day it can present a logistical problem to those who survive me.
Mes pensées exactement :
But there can also be power in having zero hair height, i.e. total baldness. A man who shaves his own head displays a vehement opposition to imperfection. ‘Unless my hair provides complete coverage,’ such a man says, ‘I will destroy it.’ This started with Brynner (Yul), continued with Willis, and reached its logical conclusion in Statham. These are some of the classiest thespians ever to avenge the inhumanity of Man by taking the law into their own chunky hands.
L’homme, son œuvre, Ayoade :
What happens when we’ve long admired someone for their talent and then find out that despite the fact they excel at darts, they’re socially conservative? How can we go on enjoying the way a person throws miniature arrows at some circular cork now that we diverge politically? And what if we find that people who make art can be terrible, perhaps even criminal? How do we get back the time we wasted enjoying their work before we knew that we wouldn’t have enjoyed it if we’d known? Can we not get some kind of certification of sanctity before we allow ourselves to be moved? Because to be moved by something made by someone who has done something bad would mean that a bad person possesses the capacity to connect to us; that they haven’t, somehow, forfeited their humanity. So we must be on guard against gurus, lest their imperfections infect.