ザ・ゴールドディガーズ / The Gold Diggers

​80年代初頭のロンドン、サリー・ポッターが白黒フィルムに刻んだこの作品は、女性と貨幣をめぐる問いを、ミュージカルと無声メロドラマとポスト・パンクの衝動が入り混じった独特の語り口で展開する。ジュリー・クリスティが纏う沈黙の重さと、コレット・ラフォンの身体が刻むリズムが、意味と感触のあいだを漂うような時間を生み出す。論理ではなく皮膚で受け取りたい一本。

​Shot entirely in luminous black-and-white on a shoestring budget by an all-female crew, Sally Potter's debut feature arrives like a fever dream from the edges of British cinema. Julie Christie drifts through glacial Icelandic landscapes and labyrinthine vaults as a kind of living currency — adored, circulated, never quite possessed — while Colette Laffont's questing presence pulls the film toward something fiercer and more grounded. Potter refuses to let image and meaning settle into easy alignment: musical sequences erupt without warning, silent-era gestures bleed into post-punk aggression, and the whole thing pulses with a restless, searching energy that feels genuinely unclassifiable even now. What holds it together is a serious and exhilarating fury — a film that wants to understand why women's bodies and women's labour have always been folded into the logic of gold, of exchange, of spectacle. Difficult in the best possible sense, and strangely beautiful throughout.