Usually it began like this. Two spindly women clattering in their stack heels give chase. Julie’s garb is the ammonia-smelling wardrobe of the junkshop. Celine is one of those dangly women, made of lolling lips, feathercut and bosoms.
I tried to write a thing about Jacque Rivette’s lovely, extravagent Celine and Julie Go Boating. At the moment, it’s still stuck in that not-yet-ready stage: gross generalisations and cod mysticism. For now, there’s plenty of ponderous Deleuzing elsewhere on the ‘net.