film

The great, sadly departed Chantal Akerman made waves in 1986 with this sly, melancholic musical set almost entirely inside a glossy shopping mall in Brussels, where romance, memory and consumer fantasy collide. On the surface the environment is light and playful: shop assistants, hairdressers and customers break into song about love gained, love missed and love stubbornly clung to. Beneath the candy-coloured sheen, though, Akerman was smuggling far stranger and sadder material and messages.

The mall becomes a closed ecosystem, a space where time loops and emotions stall. Characters chase idealised futures or unresolved pasts, often singing directly to the audience with a stiffness that undercuts musical exuberance. Delphine Seyrig’s appearance as a glamorous woman haunted by wartime memories brings a quiet gravity, hinting at histories that consumer culture tries and fails to smooth over. Golden Eighties is affectionate and ironic and delights in pop artifice while gently dismantling its promises. One of Akerman’s most accessible but radical works.