Hadn’t seen this in many years. As much fun as it would be to be eaten by Béatrice Dalle, I was so struck by how Denis nails the way entering a hotel feels like crossing over into a liminal space where time stops, at least for me. The markers of a home are there but everything is off. Nothing quite like it. One of the all time great texts on how hard yearning hits you when you know you can’t. Eats you up, brother.