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Your page is so minimal. What a snob! - Anon. J/K
No. Tis true.
Freier Fall (Stephan Lacant, 2013) is, no doubt, a very welcome addition to gay cinema. However, thanks to its necessary insight into the far-from-ideal situation which homosexual (and especially, closeted) men throughout Central Europe--in this case Germany--experience, it's a welcome addition to cinema as a whole.
Beginning in a comparable fashion to the majority of gay cinema, we encounter an apparently closeted pair of men who begin to develop a degree of chemistry. However, as we soon come to learn, one of these men is very much married to a member of the opposite sex and is anticipating a new addition to his soon-to-be nuclear family. This poses an interesting question to modern-viewers that begs them to place themselves in the shoes of everyone involved.
Despite our initial repugnance and/or condemnation of some of the facets of this tale, we come to recall (thanks to the dynamic and expertly-woven plot) moments in our own life where our actions fell short of expectations and potentially caused cataclysmic results for those whom we cherished most. This is not entirely expressed, per se, within the film, however the increasing tension does provide ample time to reflect.
Whether we relate to or despise these characters, we can undoubtedly agree that the situations that everyone is placed in are far from ideal thanks to rigid social constructs and unwelcome stigmas. Not for everyone, Freier Fall poses far more questions than it answers but succeeds in accomplishing its goals for this same reason.
Guardians of the Galaxy (James Gunn, 2014) manages to captivate us with it's visuals, entice us with it's plot and make us laugh all while functioning as a fantastic homage to the youthful adventure films of the seventies and eighties.
Opening up with a melodramatic scene, the film soon does an about-face and transitions to a hilarious romp on a desolate planet. The tone is already set within the first fifteen minutes thanks to witty remarks, a phenomenal (and all-too memorable!) retro soundtrack and the "used" aesthetic observed throughout this rich universe.
From the enigmatic cavernous world of "Knowhere" to the rich garden-planet of "Xandar," we're delighted to find ourselves in a celestial travelogue, taking in the sights and breathing in the sterile spaceship air. Ben Davis did a superb job bringing to life the pulpy worlds encountered within the comics and giving them new life.
From the roster, Chris Pratt and Zoe Saldana absolutely shine. Straying from common romantic tropes that are all too omnipresent in cinema, the duo serve as the comic relief and stern-talker (respectively) of their makeshift team. But the one performance that's likely to be remembered for ages (and how could it not be with that excessive charm!) is that of Vin Diesel's Groot. A gentle giant who cements the "family" in this family-friendly film.
Proving to us that comic book movies need not rely on super heroic deeds or the contrasting atmospheres of hyperreal grittiness and jocular delight, Guardians takes us to an exciting universe, but also, to a more enjoyable cinematic future.
The Joneses (Derrick Borte, 2009) is something of an oddball as far as contemporary cinema is concerned. It doesn't come weighed down with many common tropes and exudes originality. This ensures that it is a both rare and welcome addition to film.
Best classified as a "dramedy," The Joneses manages to cleverly critique Western society's overtly consumerist nature. By exposing the dangers of mild envy in Anywhere, USA, this upper-class suburb (which serves as a stand-in for a neighborhood near you) comes to terms with a family that is far from ordinary.
Intriguing character development ensures that all four of the main family members encounter pitfalls and learn little-by-little along the way. The secondary characters are slightly more two-dimensional aside from the phenomenal Gary Cole, who gives a heart-wrenching and oft-hard-to-watch portrayal of the average American consumed by their insatiable appetite for more.
What this film does best, however, is force the viewer to examine themselves and their life decisions. Do you happen to reflect this neighborhood's characteristics? If so, when does satisfaction arrive? This poignant philosophical approach is handled with depth and tact and serves to make this one of the finer post-recession films that critiqued suburban life.
Watchmen (Zack Snyder, 2009) has managed to divide critics, audiences and fans ever since it's release. However, admired or despised, it still manages to be one of the finer superhero films of the generation.
Despite having only one true "superhero," the film follows a group of ragtag vigilantes who go by the name "Watchmen." They are neither the first group to bear the moniker, nor are they likely to be the last. For this is a very flawed world in which they live in, a noticeably grimmer alternate reality that deviated from ours at some point in the 20th century. The film takes place in this alternate 1980's in which vigilantes are condemned, the Cold War has reached new (and ever-so-frightening) heights, and the United States has one very God-like being to help bring some sense of balance to it all.
However, due to the immense power that this being (Dr. Manhattan/Billy Crudup) holds, he has mentally transcended beyond physical woes and has developed a severe case of apathy. This has caused the human-race to grow ever more cowardly and desperate and the film races to find out how exactly these mere mortals can save themselves from their impending annihilation.
While all of this may sound quite cliché and very comic indeed, there are some noteworthy observations on the nature of man, the modern state of war as well as the practical implications of solid international relations. That's, of course, excluding the very interesting thoughts on quantum physics, metaphysics and reluctance to assist despite the ability to do so.
The film disappointed greatly, not because of a fault in character development, script, visuals or soundtrack, but because of the enormous expectations on either side of the spectrum. This was not Alan Moore's original masterpiece, it was not Nietzsche and it was not a bombastic Hollywood extravaganza. Watchmen sat coolly in the center of all of this, and for that it was forgotten. An absolute shame considering the film does indeed manage to impress despite minuscule flaws.
The Immigrant (James Gray, 2013) is a tragic, yet compelling piece of cinema that manages to stir up a variety of emotions. The highlight of the film is the omnipresent somber tone that consistently tears away at any good fortune that could possibly be encountered by any character within the film. This is not to say that the film is melodramatic to a repugnant extent, as the suspense and charismatic nuances of some of the actors are enough to keep the melancholic tone at bay.
Filmed with a digital filter that causes the picture to resemble false-color photographs of the time, the cinematography immediately captivates viewers with it's rich, earthy tones. We are, at all times, reminded that we are peering into a window that perfectly captures the crueler aspects of the past. Despite being a time of great change, the twenties were indeed an era entrenched in puritanical values and "moral" reform. This is all perfectly noted and captured throughout the film thanks to the equally superb script.
Were it not for the astounding trio of Marion Cotillard, Joaquin Phoenix and Jeremy Renner delivering some of the best performances of this career, the film would likely have suffered from it's incredible ambition. However, each actor manages to constantly stir up a great deal of emotion and depth that simply could not have been replicated had there been any change in the cast.
Maudlin? Very. The Immigrant constantly forces us to question man's innate empathy and very nature, although by the end of this phenomenal piece of art, we're more than glad to be asking those very questions.
Battle Royale/Batoru Rowaiaru (Kinji Fukasaku, 2000) is often compared (quite favorably) to Suzanne Collins' Hunger Games trilogy, however it quickly becomes apparent that the two bodies of work make individual attempts to form their own separate critiques. Whereas The Hunger Games attempts to provide a message concerning political dynamics and contemporary social commentary, Battle Royale throws us into a dystopian world that is clearly very much unlike that of our own. Despite the differentiation in settings, Battle Royale prefers to examine and critique social dynamics and human nature. One clearly embodies traditional science fiction whereas the other attempts to provide it's own philosophical interpretation of group interaction.
Semantics and analyses aside, Battle Royale does manage to provide a tighter plot and overall more enjoyable experience than either of the two released Hunger Games films. With a more interesting array of characters (who are placed under greater scrutiny), we quickly become entranced with the vicious interactions amongst the formally amiable group of students.
The fact that all of the students happen to be of (or around) the same age also greatly helps the impact of the film, allowing us to silently observe and critique each character on equal footing. Despite the fact that they may all appear to be physically older than their fictions high-school counterparts, the actors carry out their performances with a fantastic conviction, immersing themselves into the peril and terror faced by these few unfortunate souls.
Battle Royale does indeed have something to say about the state of filial piety in the contemporary East (despite the alt-verse setting), however that is just one minuscule layer of the delicious cake that is this cult-classic.
Should you be a fan of alternate history, dystopian fiction or merely looking for a thrilling action film, Battle Royale will deliver an all of the above in spades.
Antiviral (Brandon Cronenberg, 2012) could potentially have served as a chilling reminder of how celebrity-obsessed Western culture has become, however it's meandering plot and unrealistic character interactions prevented it from evolving into the more profound film it aimed to become.
A clinical and sterile atmosphere greatly help to cement the overall impression that the film attempts to set, however this very sterility finds it's way into the dialogue and prevents any two characters throughout the film from having a believable or organic conversation. We're left with a series of defective and trite interactions that never live up to their overall potential.
Wooden performances and weak script aside, Caleb Landry Jones does manage to give a chilling performance. His character single-handedly introduces us to the darker nuances that this dystopia has to offer.
A film with boundless potential, Antiviral ultimately falls flat. Jones' talent is wasted in what could have been a fantastic art-house introduction for this budding star.
Thelma and Louise (Ridley Scott, 1991) serves as a wonderful addition to feminist cinema. Managing to portray it's two female leads with a sense of depth (and allowing for plentiful character growth), Thelma and Louise instantly enraptures us with it's two clever protagonists.
Sweet yet sensible Thelma (Geena Davis) and blunt and world-weary Louise (Susan Sarandon) embark on a weekend vacation in order to escape the monotony and boredom of their lives at home. Fishing, sightseeing and enjoying the pleasure of driving Louise's convertible Thunderbird throughout the desert are just a few of the events on their road-trip itinerary. However, things soon take a turn for the worst and the duo find themselves running amok throughout the Great American South.
Black comedy meets drama in this incredible tale. We come to laugh and learn along with the girls, constantly placing ourselves in their shoes whilst simultaneously enjoying the metaphorical ride. As new (and familiar to them only) characters pop in and out of the film, we can't help but feel that they're taking something away from the beauty of having these two friends sharing witty yet bittersweet remarks with each other.
Masterfully shot, with some of the most gorgeous desert vistas since Lawrence of Arabia, we're also treated to a quirky (some would most certainly say dated) soundtrack by none other than Hans Zimmer himself.
Cinematic technicalities aside, the film's ending manages to be one of the most satisfying and exhilarating finales of all time. Sending us through an absolute rush of emotions, we truly feel as though we've finally departed from the rollercoaster that is Ridley Scott's Thelma and Louise.
Like Father, Like Son/Soshite Chichi ni Naru (Hirokazu Koreeda, 2013) is set in modern-day Japan and tells the story of two very different, yet similar children who happened to be switched at birth. Their two families cope with this unfortunate circumstance in separate, yet equally-as-tragic ways.
Given the rarity and sheer gravity of the event, the film handles it with excellent poise, twisting it into a critique of the modern working family rather than having it follow a more generic soap-operaesque path. We gain a glimpse into the lives of both families, however we're primarily saddled with the more complex, wealthy, Nonomiya clan. Modern attitudes and superficiality clash with the cozy and genial nature of the Saiki family.
The film generally makes good use of the dichotomous scenarios encountered within it, accounting for differentiations in costume, lighting and camera-angles. However, it is all done in an incredibly fluid and subtle manner that never fully manages to obstruct the viewers experience. To be frank, the film manages to immerse the audience fully into it's world, taking them along the highs and lows faced by this splendid cast.
Giving us a wonderful insight into the patriarchal hierarchy, workaholic atmosphere and emotional machinations of present-day Japan (and to a great extent, the developed world at large), we are whisked away into a fairy-tale that teaches us a valuable lesson in how we impact the lives of those that we raise.
Zero Day (Ben Coccio, 2003) follows two boys' lives in the weeks leading up to a tragic school shooting. This pair, however, happen to be the antagonists in their own story.
Shot in a mockumentary/found-footage format, we step into the daily affairs of Cal and Andre (Cal Robertson and Andre Keuck, respectively), two adolescents who never appear to suggest any underlying delusions or hints of insanity. They start the film off by deciding upon carrying out a goal and spend the rest of the film living out their lives as their goal gets pushed further and further away. Where they see intent and ambition, we see horror and regret. It is due to this that the film manages to be far more poignant and frightening than the vast majority of thrillers gracing our theaters.
Shot not long after the Columbine Massacre (and closer still, to the events of September 11th), audiences were still quite uneasy with the idea of humanizing two individuals who could be capable of causing such great harm to others. Seemingly trivializing the events, film like these were shunned. However, as we have come to learn, the awareness raised by these films surpasses any harm that could possibly be done by the cast or creators.
Apart from humanizing these killers, we slowly come to find numerous similarities between them and ourselves. Juxtaposing circumstances and events, we can clearly begin to relate to and admire these two boys as they begin their attempt to make sense of the world that they were placed into.
Regardless of intent or time and release, this film serves as an important reminder that those who commit even the most heinous crimes are not too far off from the people who inhabit our very homes.
El Orfanato (Juan Antonio Bayona, 2007) serves as the antithesis of American horror. Psychological terror and sheer tension replace gratuitous gore and cliché frights, and for this it's all the better.
Director Bayona attempts to craft a tale that infuses more mystery and suspense than outright horror, and it is because of this that we are treated to a film that manages to leave us frightened and wondering, long after the credits have rolled. From the game of "toca la pared" to the odd sounds in the night, we are left to directly empathize with the protagonist and ponder the very same thoughts as her.
The film's scares are complemented by gorgeous vistas that mainly consist of the sprawling cliffs and coast along Northern Spain. You'll begin to picture yourself amongst the clear blue skies and sea-soaked caves long before the horrors set in.
Featuring a lovely and maternal performance by Belén Rueda as the film's protagonist (and an eerie cameo by Geraldine Chaplin herself!), the audience soon comes to grasp the gravity of each scenario confronted, not with screams or cries, but with the very real horror of being unable to take control of life's less savory pitfalls.
Stress and irritation supplant fear here, but in the end it all melds together to create a hostile atmosphere that you'll desperately crave to revisit time and time again, for this film is more than a splendid horror film, it's a splendid film as well.
Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (Howard Hawks, 1953) was a release in the long-lived legacy of adaptations of the 1925 novel "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes: The Intimate Diary of a Professional Lady." This literary piece first found it's way to the stage with a 1926 release, which later received a silent film adaptation. It wasn't until 1949's musical rerelease that it began to gain major traction with American audiences once again. Of course, this was also the age of musicals in Hollywood, so what better place for it to head next?
A light-hearted comedic romp featuring Jane Russell and Marilyn Monroe starring as a dynamic duo in show business, the film carried with it several underlying patriarchal and misogynistic themes that were nothing but a mark of the era it was released. Causing a furor amongst many a modern viewer, it absolutely captivated audiences at the time and with good reason! There were plenty of scenes and clever quips that allowed this film to stand out amongst the rest (containing one particular musical scene that has managed to outshine the even-more-successful How to Marry a Millionaire of the very same year).
Special credit goes to writer Charles Lederer who managed to perfectly adapt the script to the silver screen. But the film would plummet under it's own weight if it weren't for the stark contrast between Monroe's cool/calm demeanor and Russell's flamboyant and carefree persona. Their personalities managed to melt together to provide only the finest in entertainment.
But what is a classic without it's classic moments? From the allegedly unscripted splash in the pool, to the glamorous rendition of Diamonds, the film manages to provide laugh after laugh, culminating with the best courtroom scene in cinematic history.
Blondes satisfied thousands on stage and millions in the cinema for one very good reason, it's remarkably entertaining and never afraid to admit it.
The Seven Year Itch (Billy Wilder, 1955) may contain one of cinema’s most iconic scenes, but it also serves as a great example of Hollywood’s early raunchy comedies. Restricted by the infamous Hays Code, the film plays out with the building up of an incredible amount of tension with limited release, contrary to most of modern cinema’s offerings. For this reason, it is in spite of the code that the film manages to be more endearing today.
Mid-fifties New York is displayed here in all of it’s DeLuxe Color glory. However, Wilder’s version of New York is clearly recognizable today thanks to many creative decisions on his part. We catch a glimpse of alternative restaurants, modern AC and references to homosexual tenants, all uncommon for the time. Thanks to these small details, the film manages to remain just a bit more timeless than it’s peers.
Utilizing tongue-in-cheek humor, tear downs of the fourth wall and coy sexual innuendo, many modern viewers may still be able to get a laugh or two out of this film’s finer comedic moments.
Thanks to Wilder’s great vision, Marilyn Monroe’s bubbly persona and a short but timeless opening credit scene by Saul Bass, the film remains enjoyable to this day, if not as a comedy then as a welcome reminder to the great strides we have made in this artistic medium.
The Attack (Ziad Doueiri, 2012) provides great insight into the frigid and often contentious relations between Israel and Palestine today. Revolving around a Palestinian surgeon who has been accepted, and even honored, by his Israeli peers, one incident causes all perceptions to shift creating an atmosphere of paranoia and animosity that sadly brings out most individuals' true colors.
This film is significant in that it attempts to share an unbiased view of the tumultuous relations displayed along the Gaza strip. For millions, this film presents a harsh reality, one that should have ended long ago.
Lead actor, Ali Suliman, portrays outcast surgeon Amin with a fantastic sense of realism, lending his character depth and emotion. His role in the film is tragic but ultimately relatable. Xenophobia, introversion and betrayal are some of the universal human feelings juxtaposed against this war-like atmosphere.
This simple tale of humanity surrounded by larger-than-life circumstances in an all-too-real world delves deep into the psyche of it's audience and constantly leads them to question just which participants are correct in their motivations and actions.
Who Framed Roger Rabbit (Robert Zemeckis, 1988) famously refused to carry an interrogative mark in it's title. At the time, ending the title in such a fashion was thought to be bad luck, and superstition ended up defining it's very name. One may have to thank the studio for this, as it's fantastic that we live in a world where Roger Rabbit managed to be a massive success.
Despite a period of turbulence, with a constant shift in budget and directors, studios finally managed to settle on a combination that would best suit their needs. Catering to a generation that had grown up on all of the classic cartoons, this animation epic planned on crossing the line from childish Saturday-morning cartoon, to full-blown Hollywood detective drama.
Using the latest techniques in order to perfect the look of the film (including handcrafted shadows that matched the dynamic set lighting as well as actor-animation interactions), Roger Rabbit wowed audiences with the sheer splendor of it's polish and finesse.
The plot of the film manages to combine corporate scandal and murder and weaves it into this technicolor world in manner befitting of Hollywood's silver age. It's dynamic characters (including an alcoholic has-been investigator, a comical two-dimensional rabbit and a sultry cartoon seductress) all fit perfectly into the roles, smoothly carrying the story along while simultaneously conjuring new cult-favorites.
This film, like many loved studio projects, displays a sense of charm of near-perfection that instantly catapult it to the top of the pantheon of cinema's greatest. My childhood would have undoubtedly suffered without it's existence, as it's success managed to reinvigorate a new generation's interest in traditional and classic animation.
Be it the admirable characters, the well-realized 1940's Los Angeles setting or the perfection of the editing, this is one film that should not be left unwatched.
Intolerance (D.W. Griffith, 1916) is one of the first "epic" films to be released in Hollywood before the rise of the Golden Age in cinema. Created as a response to the backlash received from 1915's "The Birth of a Nation," it attempts to interweave four stories which depict the effects of mankind's intolerance throughout the ages.
Largely funded by the director's share of profit from his earlier film, Intolerance was controversially stated as having cost over two-million dollars to produce. The budget was in fact closer to half of a million, but the fact that this film was enormously expensive for it's time still stands.
Featuring handcrafted (and as pictured, colossal) sets and props, clever modern editing techniques and enough sensuality and violence to please the modern day movie-goer, Intolerance is a triumph. Despite it's lack of sound, the intertitles managed to keep the viewer very much informed of the circumstances encountered within the plot.
A large troupe of talented actors (which included a small cameo by Douglas Fairbanks himself!) ensured that each scene in the film was well-told, believable and most importantly, entertaining.
From the Babylonian capital to the post-industrial new world, we have the privilege of experiencing four interwoven tales that all succinctly describe tales of oppression and intolerance. Of the four, the fall of Jesus could easily be the one that would have been better off left out altogether. The fall of Babylon and the tale of modern-day oppression are the two stories that hold the film together, containing charming characters, beautifully-shot scenes and moments of tension.
In regard to the tension, the final few minutes of the film serve as a wonderful climax, keeping the viewer on the edge of their seat. In this day, almost a century later, I was still left questioning what would become of a certain character with only seconds left to decide their fate.
Intolerance may have been made by an intolerable bunch, but it's contemporary editing, superb plot and gorgeous visuals all serve to turn this into a must-watch film.