Kaspar gets deposited on a city street. He stands there utterly perplexed. I'm talking utterly perplexed. He would still be standing there if some passerby had not taken the note of dubious information from his hand.
There's something about this scene that is mind-blowing. It makes formal assessments of existentialism and the absurd seem stuffy and shallow by contrast. Kaspar is truly just standing there, with no direction home. And no coordinates of brute being.
Fantastic, man.
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