Intertwined with the abjuration of the body in Bresson’s films is the vexing problem of suicide: If the body enslaves the soul, why not destroy the body and be free?
To some of Bresson’s critics, both admirers and detractors, he is not only the consummate stylist but also the consummate oddball: morbid, hermetic, eccentric, obsessed with theological dilemmas in an age of social action.
Whether that “something superior” is called “extraordinary currents,” “the invisible hand,” or “God,” it transcends immanent experience and may be called, if only for practical purposes, the Transcendent.
Stasis is the quiescent, frozen, or hieratic scene which succeeds the decisive action and closes the film
After an unsuccessful catechism class the priest enters in his diary, “But why the hostility of these little ones. What have I done to them?”
