J'ai perdu mon âme dans un miroir de brocante...
Viewers interested in modern cinema often explore J'ai perdu mon âme dans un miroir de brocante... because of its cast, story direction, and audience popularity.
This film constitutes a passage between my two other films, Trompe-la-Mort and Quartier des bachelors or... I would say an experience of "cogito" with the camera/a narcissistic experience which is parasitized (contaminated?) by passers-by. The sirens, and then this void. What distinguishes the "cogito" of the filmmaker from the "cogito" of a madman? This question already discredits/tympanizes the possibility of a purely phenomenal “cogito”: I see myself, does this mean that I exist? The interfilmic references of the soundtrack generate meaning already in the direction of a dispersion of the ego.
