Morocco

Originally published on 02/08/22 on Letterboxd

As fervent in its passion as it is withdrawn in its transience. Its purposeful denial of any sort of cathartic, histrionic release from the harsh winds of the desert seem to affirm the notion that its interiors are merely constructions of flightful fancy, belying the impossibility of love (not unlike Antonioni's Red Desert, which similarly wrestles with the futility of passion in an environment that forbids it, though in purely erotic rather than romantic terms). This illusion, however, is shattered when Dietrich discovers Cooper's inscription, an attempt to engrave into his surroundings what he can't put into words- it is in this moment that she understands that his retreat into transitory spaces is the product of not cowardice but desperation, and so decides to join him, even if it means becoming just another mirage in the desert.