The Lovers on the Bridge (1991)
Besides the macabre, there is luxury: the hyper-production, the mannered image, the baroque fairylike. Carax does try to fit the two together – clinical decay and magical image construction, macabre corruption and pièces montées [layer cakes] of light and fireworks – but it doesn’t really work. The suture doesn’t happen. Two different films chase each other, trip over one another, tear each other apart like two dogs on the same leash.