2011-07-16

Brontë



- Come, Emily. Look how beautiful the wild roses are.
- It's called a Dog Rose.
- You like it?
- No. I like this holly.
- Holly ? But it's humble, sad and banal.
- You only see the look of things. Now, you love the wild rose because it is vibrant. But it soon loses its flowers, it fades early. Will it be beautiful in the winter ? Holly will always be green.
The wild rose is love. Love that only blooms once. I trample on it in disdain. Spit in love and vanity. Holly is friendship. And will last until our winter.

Isabelle Adjani (Emily), Isabelle Huppert (Anne), Les Sœurs Brontë, André Téchiné, 1979