Abstract Making films can be a lifeline, an aid to going on living when (we feel) the world around us has disappeared. Looking, showing that there’s a “there there,” recording the present moment and thereby preserving it, can, for a time, make us not feel the nothingness within us. But the rescue that comes from making a film is always provisional. Why? Because every film has an end. Because if there are no more films to make, if there is nothing that deserves to be looked at (the worst case scenario), going on living will have exhausted itself, and taking one’s own life (if indeed there was a life to take) may seem the only option. Chantal Akerman’s No Home Movie – a film recording the slow death of her mother in her Brussels apartment – is this worst case scenario. A moving record of the psychic devastation that comes about when we, slowly but surely, lose the one object worth looking at. Panic, depression, hopelessness, and a fierce determination to go where the disappeared object went. To this last home where nothing no longer moves.

中文翻译：

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我所有的玩具都死了：尚塔尔阿克曼的无家可归电影（2015）

摘要 拍电影可以是一条生命线，当（我们觉得）我们周围的世界已经消失时，它可以帮助我们继续生活。观察，表明有一个“那里”，记录当下并从而保存它，可以在一段时间内让我们感觉不到我们内在的虚无。但拍电影带来的拯救总是暂时的。为什么？因为每部电影都有结局。因为如果没有更多的电影可以拍，如果没有什么值得看的东西（最坏的情况），继续生活就会筋疲力尽，结束自己的生命（如果确实有生命的话）似乎是唯一的选择。尚塔尔·阿克曼 (Chantal Akerman) 的《无家可归》——一部记录她母亲在布鲁塞尔公寓中缓慢死亡的电影——就是最糟糕的情况。当我们发生的精神破坏的动人记录，慢慢地，但肯定地，失去一个值得一看的对象。恐慌、沮丧、绝望，以及前往消失物体所去之处的强烈决心。到这最后一个家，什么都不再移动。