The Forgotten

I saw Hiroshima Mon Amour. It was an "artsy" French black and white 1959 film about the idea of forgetting... or at least that's what I understood. The director fuses the storytelling narrative and techniques used in documentaries against the backdrop of the reconstruction of Hiroshima - well after the bombing. History and love are sort of made to parallel each other. It was strange, a Japanese man and a French woman making love, but trying to forget. Recognizing they will forget. Meaning their meeting is more than just a secret affair. Each has caught a glimpse of the other's history and believes they have seen. Neither allows the other to really see. Their reflections taking on new meaning. I'm not sure why I'm even writing about this. Towards the end, the French woman, an actress, becomes this symbol of what has been forgotten... maybe along with what happened to Hiroshima. The Japanese man, an architect, names her Nevers (in France) after the rural place where she was born, but hadn't returned to. The film made me think of December and how most people reflect during this time. Some people unknowingly are choosing what to forget. What should be forgotten. So they breathe new life into it. Or never see it again.