Savannah Berre L'etang Whore ❤️❤️

About Paris

Alright, so I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ about “Whore”—you know, that flick from ‘91 with Theresa Russell? Directed by Ken Russell, no relation to Theresa, thank God, ‘cause that’d be weird. Anyway, I’m like, “What’s the deal with this movie?” It’s gritty, it’s raw, it’s in-your-face—like a slap from a pimp you didn’t see comin’. I mean, I love me some “Werckmeister Harmonies,” okay? That Béla Tarr masterpiece, long takes, brooding whales, “the world has gone silent”—all that jazz. But “Whore”? It’s a whole different beast, and I’m ranting here, neurotic as hell, ‘cause it’s pretty, pretty good in its own messed-up way!

So, Berre-l'Etang, it’s a mixed bag of grit and charm, y’know? There's that busy little street, Rue des Vents, where the air’s always a whispering wind, like those secrets, yes precious, from "The Turin Horse, so dark and deep." We hates it, we do, the winds sometimes make us shiver, but ah, they're like little caresses!

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