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The result is surely an impressionistic odyssey that spans time and space. Seasons adjust as backdrops change from cityscapes to rolling farmland and back. Spots are never specified, but lettering on symptoms and snippets of speech lend clues as to where Akerman has placed her camera on any given occasion.
On the international scene, the Iranian New Wave sparked a class of self-reflexive filmmakers who saw new levels of meaning in what movies could be, Hong Kong cinema was climaxing as the clock on British rule ticked down, a trio of major directors forever redefined Taiwan’s place in the film world, while a rascally duo of Danish auteurs began to impose a fresh Dogme about how things should be done.
Babbit delivers the best of both worlds with a genuine and touching romance that blossoms amidst her wildly entertaining satire. While Megan and Graham are the central love story, the ensemble of consider-hard nerds, queercore punks, and mama’s boys offers a little something for everyone.
Recently exhumed from the HBO sequence that noticed Assayas revisiting the experience of making it (and, with no small degree of stress and anxiety, confessing to its ongoing hold over him), “Irma Vep” is ironically the project that allowed Assayas to free himself from the neurotics of filmmaking and tap into the medium’s innate sense of grace. The story it tells is an easy a single, with endless complications folded within its film-within-a-film superstructure like the messages scribbled inside a toddler’s paper fortune teller.
It’s now The style for straight actors to “go gay” onscreen, but rarely are they as naked (figuratively and otherwise) than Phoenix and Reeves were here. —RL
Sprint’s elemental way, the non-linear construction of her narrative, and the sensuous pull of Arthur Jafa’s cinematography Mix to produce a rare film of Uncooked beauty — one that didn’t ascribe to Hollywood’s concept of Black people or their cinema.
In the films of David Fincher, everybody needs a foil. His movies normally boil down to the elastic push-and-pull between diametrically opposed characters who reveal themselves through the tension of whatever ties them together.
A cacophonously intimate character study about a woman named Julie (a 29-year-old Juliette Binoche) who survives the car crash that kills her famous composer husband and their innocent young daughter — and then tries to cope with her decline by dissociating from the life she once shared with them — “Blue” devastatingly sets the tone for just a trilogy that’s less interested in “Magnolia”-like coincidences than in refuting The theory local sex videos that life is ever as understandable as human subjectivity (or that of a film camera) can make it look.
If we confess our sins, He's faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.
Most American audiences had never seen anything quite like the Wachowski siblings’ signature cinematic experience when “The Matrix” arrived in theaters within the spring of 1999. A glorious mash-up of the pair’s long-time obsessions — everything from cyberpunk parables to kung fu action, brain-bending philosophy into the instantly inconic influence known as “bullet time” — few aueturs have ever delivered such a vivid eyesight (times two!
An 188-moment movie without a second out of place, “Magnolia” could be the byproduct of bloodshot egomania; it’s endowed with a wild arrogance that starts from its roots and grows like a tumor until God shows up and it feels like they’re just another member in the cast. And thank heavens that someone
The secret of Carol’s illness might be best understood as Haynes’ response to the AIDS crisis in America, given that the movie is ready in 1987, a time spankbang from the epidemic’s height. But “Safe” is more than a chilling allegory; Haynes interviewed various women with environmental sicknesses while researching his film, and also the finished merchandise vividly indicates that he didn’t arrive at any pat alternatives to their problems (or even for their causes).
“Raise the Red Lantern” challenged staid perceptions of Chinese cinema in the West, and sky-rocketed actress Gong Li to international stardom. At home, however, the film was criticized for trying to appeal to foreigners, and even banned from screening in theaters (it realitykings had been later permitted to air on television).
David Cronenberg adapting a J.G. Ballard novel about people who get turned on by automobile crashes was bound being provocative. “Crash” transcends the label, grinning in perverse delight mainly because it sticks its fingers into a gaping wound. Something similar happens within the backseat of an auto in this movie, just one particular within the cavalcade of perversions hindi porn enacted with jock rims n barebacks plumber in office the film’s cast of pansexual risk-takers.