Eric Rohmer, Love in the Afternoon, 1972.
I have a taste for films about solitude. Sometimes I only like a film halfway because the character isn’t sufficiently alone. This was the case with Bresson’s Pickpocket. I’ve always thought I’d prefer the film if Martin LaSalle didn’t have a buddy. We see him steal and return to his room. I wanted him to always be alone so that I could be alone with him.
I have a theory about this: The friend should always be the viewer, and if there is an onscreen friend, you become a third wheel, and it keeps you from getting as involved."
But I don’t want to go among mad people
Oh, you can’t help that. Most everyone’s mad here
Interviewer: Do you think people understand you?
Bresson: I don’t know if they understand me, but is the issue here the film or me? If its the film, I think - I’d rather people feel a film before understanding it. I’d rather feelings arise before intellect.