WHAT IS NORMAL?

From Forbidden Paris, d. Jean Louis van Bell (1970) 

PUT IT ON - GO NUTS - KILL!

The Mask, d. Julian Roffman (1961)

An archaeology student becomes possessed by an ancient mask, so he posts the mask to his psychiatrist, then kills himself. The psychiatrist puts it on and goes insane. Black and white with amazing 3D sequences.

SENTINELS

SENTINELS (2014)

NEVER BET THE DEVIL YOUR HEAD

Toby Dammit, d. Federico Fellini (1968)

No-one does incidental detail like Fellini.

No-one does Satan like Fellini, either.

BLESSED ARE THE FIT

BLESSED ARE THE FIT (2014)

VARIOUS EYES

From EYES: THEIR PROBLEMS AND TREATMENTS by Michael Glasspool, FRCS (1984)

AT THE RISK OF REPEATING MYSELF, I LOVE YOU

Je T'aime, Je T'aime, d. Alain Resnais (1968)

A man is selected by computer to travel back in time, although the machine can only keep him there for one minute. He relives an enigmatic love affair, not knowing that the machine has malfunctioned and he is now trapped somewhere between the past and the present.

I AM A CHALICE

Sex Of The Witch, d. Angelo Pannavio (1973)

Italo-giallo-supernatural-sex-murder-trash with absolutely massive sub-titles. What more do you want?

WARM / HOT AND COLD

POP, POP, POP-MUZIKA

PSYCHEDELIC B.S

FAT MAN ON A MICROSCOPIC CROSS SECTION OF WATER LILY PAD (2014)

A DISTINCT CONCEPT

Paradigm, d. B.S Johnson (1969)

In an unnatural environment, a man speaks an artificial language. Excitable and talkative at first, as he ages he becomes increasingly taciturn. Ultimately, he is unable (or unwilling) to say anything at all. 

SOMETHING INSIDE

The Inner Scar, d. Philippe Garrel (1972) 

The Inner Scar is just one hour long and comprises of around twenty five shots, most of which feature German actress and singer, Nico. The film is in a number of different languages, but has no subtitles, nor does it have credits. As you may surmise, it's so arty that it hurts your head to watch it, and your ears, as Nico's speaking voice is a terrible, sickening thing: simultaneously guttural and piercing (I say this as a major fan of her singing). 

The film is basically really irritating, but it stays watchable simply because the locations are astonishingly beautiful: a desert, some salt flats, a black beach, a waterfall, an ice floe, the edge of an active volcano and a stalactite and stalagmite festooned cave. The actors stiffly superimpose themselves onto these eerie but amazing landscapes, stomping around and pausing to strike statuesque poses - in Pierre Clementi's case whilst completely naked except for a bow and a quiver of arrows.  

It's hugely and unashamedly pretentious, of course, but, then, if it's the nineteen seventies and you're a French art film director and you're NOT making hugely and unashamedly pretentious films then you need your beret knocking off.