The ghostly reflection: An elegy for a dying art.
"Forever" directed by Karim Kari explores the beauty of an art that is disappearing.
Karim Kari, general manager of the Comédie des Champs-Élysées, has forty years of experience behind the scenes, rehearsals, tours. He knows what he's talking about.
He saw the theater gradually empty its verve, while the film industry took all the light.
So, he films this suffering, not as a manifesto, but as a procession of specters: the ghosts of the theater.
Passionate, mortified, sometimes disenchanted souls who continue to play despite the pain.
Their game is that of the true enthusiast: the one who still loves, even when everything collapses.
In Forever, there is a black beauty, a poetry of ruin.
Each shot becomes a living painting, a deep delirium of poetic black magic, where the bodies become troubled presences.
Behind the darkness, we can see the depth of the man stripped of his artistic mask.
The film is a theater in the theater, a dizzying abyss: a film shot in a theater where the ghosts of the red velvet wander.
A velvet box for an elegant denunciation of the degradation of the theater.
Like Dorian Gray's portrait, "Forever" reveals the double face of an art:
Sumptuous in appearance, but whose painting, in the shadows, crumbles and cracks.
Around him, a troupe; Delphine Depardieu, Michèle André, and other actors who came to lend their flesh to this ghostly dance.
All gathered around the same idea:
That art, even dying, remains a gathering space,
A place where we are alive,
Forever