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If I hear someone say “intellectually stimulating,” I will think Harrison Lee Van Buren and how he is in this movie. 

Also, my first viewing since seeing it in IMAX in January.

Art’s Endurance Amid Tragedy. (SPOILERS). 

This review may contain spoilers.

For much of the marketing campaign for Mike Flanagan's The Life of Chuck, the blurbs and Flanagan's humble but earnest message have referred to the film as if it is an instant classic in the vein of other Stephen King dramas, like The Shawshank Redemption and Stand by Me. While the sincerity of everyone involved is evident from the moment the movie begins, The Life of Chuck is an unfortunate case of a filmmaker desperately wanting his audience to FEEL every conflict in the narrative. By structuring the narrative in reverse, Flanagan's aim is to create a mystery of who Charles "Chuck" Krantz is and why he is significant to everyone else in the setting across time. By delving into the mystery, Flanagan develops situations that represent the themes of finding an emotional connection and accepting death before it happens. As the world is about to end in the third act, the ideas are explicit in development but handled credibly enough by the actors to make it watchable. The problems arise with The Life of Chuck when Flanagan regurgitates the same ideas and recalls earlier symbols or conversations in later scenes because the familiarity of his ideas becomes more punishingly obnoxious due to his cloying approach to King's novella. To worsen the experience, Flanagan incorporates Nick Offerman's coy, sanctimonious narration to tell audiences trite lessons and what is happening onscreen. As the film evolves, the characters come across as devices to deliver or recall a truth about life and society rather than human beings. The cast does what they can with every platitude their characters express, but the overbearingly false sense of profundity undermines their emotional authenticity. There are brief moments when Flanagan and his ensemble transcend the limitations of the screenplay (such as the much-discussed dance and Matthew Lillard's Gus Wilfong talking about the world's end), but they are ultimately parts of a dramatically mechanical design. When he is not aiming for surprises or tears, Flanagan's aesthetic is competent in how it fuses the ordinary with the alien due to the science-fiction aspects in the narrative design. Some scenes indicate the muted color palette of a Netflix original, but the images are well-framed enough to appreciate in the moment. Still, The Life of Chuck is an unbearable journey if you are not attuned to the sound of Flanagan's music.

This review may contain spoilers.

Dating in the Modern Era.
Materialists.
Directed by Celine Song.

  A24's marketing campaign for Celine Song's Materialists has been selling the movie as romantic fluff from the 2000s that would have attracted actors like Kate Hudson, Matthew McConaughey, and Hugh Grant. The general thought among some people who loved Past Lives was that Song had potentially succumbed to commercial storytelling. While Materialists has aspects we expect from a mainstream romantic comedy, Song's sophomore effort is more serious and biting than what people expect from the trailers. As you watch Materialists, it is easy to recognize the delicacy and intelligence of Song's classicist aesthetic approach and behaviorally nuanced writing. Many young directors tend to repeat themselves after their first movie, but Song has more on her mind with Materialists by focusing on the complexities of online dating culture and its industry. Beneath the artificiality of its setting and the conventional beauty of the actors, Materialists is a welcome critique of the culture and how the industry conditions people to think superficially about potential partners on an app as if they are food in a restaurant menu.
  The dehumanization Song observes deepens into the effects of what can happen when the battle between love and money is at the center of the potential relationship. When considering the literature of Jane Austen and Edith Wharton, the conflict between love and money is nothing new in the romantic genre, but Song's sociocultural interest in online dating culture is so specific to our time that it speaks harsh truths about everyone who participates and how they respond to others on an app. Song's thematic investment is through Dakota Johnson's matchmaker Lucy and her work with various clients and two men, her ex (a struggling theatre actor named John, played by Chris Evans) and Pedro Pascal's Harry Castillo, a wealthy man who shows interest in her at a wedding. While the trailers present a love triangle, Song exploits and bends the love triangle in an ideologically confrontational way for Lucy to mature beyond the materialistic viewpoint she has adopted and promoted as a matchmaker. In one touching scene between Lucy and John, Lucy speaks of being a bad person due to her judgmental perspective regarding a potential lover, but Song recognizes how Lucy is a good person who has been consumed by her profession and its social politics. Through the loving but dysfunctional relationship between Lucy and John, Song places their conflict against the daily problems of having a relationship and focusing on the career you want in a capitalistic system. The struggles of doing what you love versus the luxuries of a material life are what divide many partners apart, and Song's response to the juxtaposition is so exact that there is never any doubt about its authenticity, even within the framework of a romantic comedy that traditionally builds upon the fantasies a general audience desires in their lives.
  Two of the most unnerving observations Song conceives concern a secret Harry withholds to present his seemingly idyllic surface, and one of Lucy's clients, Zoë Winters' Sophie. With his Burt Reynolds mustache and persuasive empathy, Pascal is perfectly cast as Harry because he fits into the mould of what many people desire when they see a man. When Song reveals that Harry has had leg surgery, where he could increase his height by six inches, the moment reveals and reminds viewers how even the most desirable and successful men are vulnerable enough to defy themselves to achieve a false sense of perfection. The revelation is so cutting that it might provoke men who have always felt insecure about their height, but the aftermath Harry and Lucy share regarding the outcome is heartwarming due to the genuine feeling Song, Pascal, and Johnson provide. Compared to other clients (especially the ridiculously picky ones), Song's concentration on Sophie causes us to hope for the best in her dating journey due to her struggles until one of Sophie's matches assaults her. Song handles the man's predatory background so subtly that it shocks and burns our senses when Lucy and the audience learn about the assault. The scene is not only a reminder of the dangers involved in online dating but a portrayal of trauma where Song understands Lucy's pain and how her boss approaches the trauma in basic, business to move past a trauma that is difficult to face and overcome. What is so scathing about the sequence is how it is a part of Song's commentary on the calculated ways in which matchmakers within the online dating industry are conditioned to function because the clients are treated as numbers rather than human beings.
  Lucy's growth as a character through her relationship with the people in her life is honest in its transition because Song and Johnson capture the behavioral nuances of how Lucy will speak to different people until the business and personal identities blur into a detached identity bubbling with a broken and lonely heart. In the past, Johnson has always had a lively presence that was limited to an archetypal character to fit within a director's flawed vision. With Lucy, Song has given Johnson a character to breathe life into by channelling her charm and wit naturally and meshing those characteristics with Lucy's inner turmoil. It is a wonderful performance that provokes you to wonder about what Johnson is truly capable of as a performer when given the right material. The same can be expressed about Evans, who has spent much of his career playing Captain America, but Captain America has now grown a beard and inhabits the talented but frustrated John beautifully. Johnson and Evans work so sublimely together that it makes sense why they would be attracted to each other, since they are individually appealing in different ways. The audience never doubts their romantic history because we can feel their past in how Evans and Johnson interact with each other. Johnson and Evans' chemistry complements Song's belief in Lucy and John's future.
  Even though some critics have complained about the romantic comedy contrivances surrounding Song's commentary, they are ultimately too focused on a part rather than the whole. One critical reaction about wanting Lucy to be with Harry suggested a subliminal misunderstanding of the film's message, as if it were better to embrace the materialistic life rather than genuine love. On a more positive note, a critic referred to Materialists as an "elevated rom-com" to transfer the ahistorical lens regarding horror to the romantic comedy. Anyone who has seen the genre history of horror and the romantic comedy realizes how absurd the notion of an "elevated" subgenre is. Critical reception aside, Materialists is a humane and intelligent critique and reflection of what it is like to date someone in the modern era. While its ending might be more lovely than powerful compared to Past Lives' heartbreaking conclusion, Materialists solidifies Song's place as an artist interested in contemporary life and the complications of every interaction, whether it is romantic or platonic.

While I cannot necessarily say I laughed during Carson Lund's Eephus, I was immediately taken by how Lund created the atmosphere of Soldiers Field with the cast and crew. The film revolves around the final game of an amateur baseball league before their baseball field is demolished and converted into a school. The film's title refers to an eephus pitch, where the pitcher throws the ball at an extremely slow speed with a high arc. Eephus is ultimately an apt title for the film because Lund gradually builds this hangout picture before the sorrow seeps into the minds and hearts of the players near the end of the game. Through every hit and strike, the cast (particularly Keith William Richards, who resembles a grizzled Aidan Quinn) displays a natural sense of camaraderie as if they had known each other since childhood. The history these men share enhances the tragedy of their circumstances in beautifully subdued moments, such as a player's children watching him play on the field one last time. For a directorial debut, Lund demonstrates an inherent talent for creating mood and atmosphere. Soldiers Field is as much of a character as the people onscreen due to Lund's visual approach to the setting. Lund's talent for atmosphere makes you curious about how he will learn and grow with each film he directs. Eephus would be a great film if the humor weren't so strained, but Lund and his actors engage with this narrative in a way that transcends those comedic limitations.

On this week’s episode, I discuss Bring Her Back. 

Reel Values: Bring Her Back. (SPOILERS). 

Nashville at 50: Cinema's Peak.

  Those who have known me for a few years will likely think of me as the "Altman guy" or "Ashby guy" if one of their movies is brought up in a discussion. There are many reasons for those labels, and one of them explains why I love Robert Altman. Fifty years ago today, Altman’s Nashville was released to the public. Even though he had already established himself as a master with gems like McCabe and Mrs. Miller and The Long Goodbye, Nashville was an audacious step forward for Altman. Through Nashville, Altman learned from Jean Renoir’s The Rules of the Game and updated the mosaic with an improvisational spirit that defied genre and our expectations for what movies could be. During the first viewing, it is fair to be overwhelmed by every element Altman has captured, but you are in awe of what he has accomplished in a 160-minute feature film.
  With each viewing, you grasp more insights from it about a different character and their conflict with themselves, someone else, or the nation itself. After a few viewings, I realized that what I had seen was arguably the pinnacle of cinema and its potential as an exploration of the human condition. Many artists have attempted to replicate what Altman achieved with Nashville but have fallen short for various reasons, such as narrowing their project to a single concept or simply not allowing characters enough time to develop. It is telling that the only film that comes close to Nashville’s complexity and power is Altman’s later masterpiece, Short Cuts. What Short Cuts depicted about its characters in Los Angeles was as deeply human as Nashville, but the 1975 achievement was so specific to its time and place in a post-Watergate America that its critical and reflective genius makes every other movie seem inferior. In retrospect, the culturally nuanced observations in Nashville provoke audiences to wonder how shocked Altman would be about America now. Still, no one could compete with Altman, but they could rest on the shoulders of what he had created and ire from afar.  
   While it is my favorite film, it is odd to recommend a movie that is only available for purchase on Amazon Prime. When I recently pitched Nashville to someone, I thought, “If they buy it, I hope they like it, or they will be so annoyed with me.” Whether the person loves or hates Nashville, Altman’s magnum opus should be available on more streaming services because it deserves a revitalization from my generation.

Beneath the Stars and Stripes: A Study of Robert Altman’s Nashville. 

Living in Altman’s America. 

This review may contain spoilers.

I have seen this film too many times to count since I was ten, but I can confidently quote a few scenes from the movie, particularly any sequence with David Patrick Kelly's Luther. The Warriors is so embedded in my memory that you could argue my childhood obsession with it was as integral to my film taste as a Star Wars nerd analyzing every theory about the franchise's universes. Few action movies, especially in modern cinema, stimulate my mind with their filmmaking because Hill created a gang film infused with the depth of a medieval fantasy through every slow-motion edit and choreographed fight. The aesthetic throughline between Sam Peckinpah and Walter Hill should be studied in their consideration of slow-motion and how they choreograph action within the archetypal roles of masculinity. As each set piece evolves, it is easy to be in awe of the practicality because Hill has given the film so much external life that it has the energetic rhythm of the radio station's soundtrack within the narrative. Every actor (especially James Remar's Ajax and Deborah Van Valkenburgh's Mercy) does exactly what is expected of them because they give the film as much juice as Hill. Even as dawn arises in Coney Island, the nocturnal exhilaration that preceded the gang's arrival has become internalized due to Hill's craftsmanship.

Side note:
Rockstar Games' adaptation is a worthy expansion of the film and deserves to be restored.

This review may contain spoilers.

Like Robert Altman’s Nashville, Dog Day Afternoon is a film that is critical and reflective of the era it depicts in America. From homophobia to police corruption, Dog Day Afternoon captures the overwhelming tension of the moment within a heist picture. Although inspired by a real heist, the heist framework allows Lumet to create a claustrophobic experience that keeps you riveted with suspense and unsettled by the layers it reveals about the culture’s flaws surrounding the conflict. The tightly choreographed angles subliminally indicate a closeted existence that is too difficult to bear. Lumet’s observant approach relies significantly on how viewers respond to Sonny because it provokes their sociopolitical biases. As a teenager, it spoke to my rage against a system that had pushed minorities aside for so long by expecting them to fit within the nation’s traditional design. The social limitations are as unnerving as being stuck in a building without air conditioning while everyone watches and judges from the outside. Lumet and Frank Pierson’s screenplay does not excuse Sonny’s behavior as much as understand his choices by considering his repressed sexual identity and status as a Vietnam veteran. Al Pacino’s fiercely felt performance makes us care enough to be a part of Sonny’s devolution before he is eventually arrested. Even after being Coppola’s Alain Delon in The Godfather: Part I & II, Pacino’s unglamorous transformation as Sonny suggests an actor’s transition from representing the elegant facade of the American male through Michael Corleone to a disheveled queer man who is so filled with anger about the nation that he is tired of conforming. The juxtaposition of the American male identity in these films is what motivates Pacino to deliver his best work by considering the emotional nuances of a character beyond their extremes. While John Cazale is deservedly acclaimed for his inward performance as the anxiety-riddled Sal, it is Pacino who gives the themes of Dog Day Afternoon their bruised heart and soul amid the chaos of a summer day and night.

Jaws at 50: 

  When I have mentioned loving Jaws in the past (particularly in college), some people have been surprised as if they expected me to hate it. In situations like this, I think, "What? Do you think I watch Doctor Zhivago or Ryan's Daughter for breakfast? Those are for curing my insomnia." , folks! I love John Waters as much as Michelangelo Antonioni. I find pleasure in both.
  Steven Spielberg's Jaws is one of those "Great Films" that has been discussed so much that it is difficult to add a new perspective because writing about it would likely tread familiar territory. One aspect I have always loved about the film is how it shows an early indication of the inherent childlike spirit within Spielberg in the beautiful table scene between Chief Brody and his son, Sean. It is a moment as impactful as the relationships we see in Spielberg's most powerful achievements, A.I. and E.T. The film is also rich in its summer atmosphere, with the crowded beach scenes feeling as overwhelming as the brutality of the shark attacks. You feel the heat of the sunlight and the chaos of their environment because Spielberg has given the film an external life that transcends beyond the frame and becomes a part of our existence as viewers. Only the best classicist works are capable of packing this much emotional authenticity into the atmosphere of each necessary scene.

Here is also a brief but great piece by Pauline Kael about Jaws as a satire of machismo: boxd.it/zmK3T

I participated in Sammy Juliano’s decade poll for the 1950s. 

The Juliano Decade Poll: 1950s. 

This review may contain spoilers.

In his last two films (The French Dispatch and Asteroid City), Wes Anderson demonstrated an artistic progression and expansion of his canvas by experimenting with form and thinking about larger ideas. While his latest film is entertaining, The Phoenician Scheme represents a regression to the kind of movies Anderson made during the middle of his career, but without the emotional consistency that made those movies resonate, such as his best film of this century, The Darjeeling Limited. At times, the familiar notion of a dysfunctional father reconnecting with his child recalls The Royal Tenenbaums, but what made his 2001 film a significant achievement was how Anderson and his lead actor, Gene Hackman, brought a tinge of sorrow to the situation that permeated the experience. In The Phoenician Scheme, Benicio Del Toro's Zsa-zsa Korda and Mia Threapleton's Sister Liesl excel comedically in their detached familial relationship. However, we remain distant from their healing because Anderson has not further developed his framework to enable it to open up.  By creating his spin on an espionage thriller, Anderson incorporates global political affairs by considering capitalism, communism, and religion within his narrative. Beneath the international chaos, Anderson believes in reforming familial bonds; the world may fall apart around them, but the functionality of the family unit is integral to Anderson's ethos. From the basketball match to the random moments of yelling, some gags are funnier than others and help overcome the strained scenes in the film. Aesthetically speaking, Anderson's craftsmanship is as masterfully controlled as viewers would expect, but a particular moment that stands out is Anderson's execution of the opening credits, because every element within the frame (from the players and objects to the text font for each credit) and Alexandre Desplat's score exhibit an alluring beauty that pulls the viewers into its idyllically designed but socially fractured world. Even though it is a minor effort in his oeuvre, The Phoenician Scheme offers enough to be satisfying in Anderson's latest vision.

On this week’s episode, I discuss Daniel Minahan’s On Swift Horses. 

Reel Values: On Swift Horses. (SPOILERS). 

This review may contain spoilers.

Andrew DeYoung's Friendship is a case where the viewer will either find Tim Robinson's socially awkward marketing executive Craig Waterman hilarious for every cringe-inducing conflict in his life or remind the viewer of the obnoxious classmate from middle school whose aggressively unfiltered behavior would provoke you to avoid sitting next to him at lunch. DeYoung's narrative design for Friendship is built around Craig Waterman for Robinson to commit to a series of sketches in a 100-minute movie. Initially, Friendship is amusing with Kate Mara's Tami Waterman talking about how she has not experienced an orgasm in a while, with Craig saying that he has been "orgasmin'" a lot. The setup is better than the punchline in execution, but it is more amusing than most of the film since Craig is essentially an absurdist device for every "shocking" situation. For some audience , Craig might provoke interest with his comic angst and isolation, but he provokes indifference and potentially contempt for those who find him insufferable after forty minutes. While the film concerns the friendship between Craig and Paul Rudd's weatherman Austin Carmichael and its damaging effects on their lives after a brief honeymoon period, Craig is the center of attention, where the ing cast does exactly what viewers would expect them to do with thin characterizations. Even with their underdeveloped roles, the ing actors suggest a backstory far more intriguing than the misadventures of Craig Waterman. The only interesting aspect about Craig is how his jacket occasionally suggests a lonely turtle moving from one area to the next. If the movie were more serious about Craig's mental health, the clothing would indicate the trite but potentially satisfying idea of a turtle coming out of its shell. With its elegant dissolves and camera movements, Friendship's aesthetic competence is ultimately undermined by a strained comic exercise with sketches that will likely take flight as memes and clips online for its eventual cult audience.

This review may contain spoilers.

In Talk to Me, it was noted how Danny and Michael Philippou came from YouTube before they made their superb directorial debut, and there were instances when you could tell in the film. With their second movie, Bring Her Back, the Philippou brothers have stepped forward as artists in an artfully conceived and hauntingly impressionistic study of loss, trauma, and child abuse. The film focuses on a troubled step-brother (Billy Barratt's Andy) and his visually impaired younger step-sister (Sora Wong's Piper) and their experiences with their new foster mother (Sally Hawkins' Laura) in a secluded home. For some viewers, the premise might slightly recall M. Night Shyamalan's The Visit, but the Philippou brothers go further into the abyss with their idea than Shyamalan has ever dared, even in his best work. Their work with editor Geoff Lamb and cinematographer Cornel Wilczek allows them to create elegantly surreal and nightmarish imagery that evokes the haunted psychology of the characters and their experiences; their imagery is even worthy of what Nicolas Roeg and Jack Clayton accomplished visually with their masterpieces, Don't Look Now and The Innocents. Whether it be a pool or a shower, the Philippou brothers approach water in an indelibly fascinating way by relating it to the characters' traumatic experiences. The Philippou brothers' consideration of water is as much of a character as the people on screen due to their investment in the atmosphere. Barratt and Wong are emotionally credible as step-siblings with scars from their past, but it is Hawkins who delivers the film's ultimate performance as a mother whose grief over the drowning of her daughter has caused her devolve into crippling madness by abducting and abusing children to bring her daughter's body back from the dead. Hawkins exhibits the facade of the eccentric elementary school teacher every student loves, but gradually reveals the broken soul that has affected her life by making her evil in human rather than limiting herself emotionally to a caricature. The brutality of the Philippou brothers' craftsmanship is so striking to the nervous system that the viewers might not think of certain aspects the same way again--such as the eating of a wooden counter. For all its startlingly gruesome moments, there is a genuine emotional core that grounds the supernatural narrative design of Bring Her Back.

One of the GREAT American movies. A film that is more than a “Christmas movie” because it is a genuine feat in what can be accomplished in modern cinema by channeling the spirit of an aesthetic but deeply human past. Those who know and love the ‘70s cinema of Hal Ashby will recognize how special The Holdovers is.

Ashby Returns from the Afterlife. (SPOILERS). 

This review may contain spoilers.

Through every dissolve and superimposition, Sam Peckinpah takes the American mythology of the western and its inherent linkage to masculinity by going into the madness and ruthlessness of their choices before depicting their fates in brutal detail. Before violence breaks out in many scenes, Peckinpah beautifully captures the atmosphere of every location the gang enters. The late film critic Pauline Kael, who was friends with Peckinpah, once commented on the filmmaker as a man who could be generous and monstrous in equal measure. In The Wild Bunch, audiences recognize the lightness and darkness of Peckinpah’s being through every frame of the film. Like most artists, Peckinpah was a man of his time, but the rage within him gave audiences one of the rivetingly crafted and edited westerns ever made. As the violent finale evolves, it is as if Peckinpah has brought Hell onto Earth and torn it apart through every death. Ultimately, Hell comes from within the men.

On this week’s episode, I discuss Brian De Palma’s Casualties of War. 

Reel Values: Casualties of War. (SPOILERS). 

This review may contain spoilers.

Tom Cruise has slowly turned Ethan Hunt into an international superhero for nearly thirty years. While the character is certainly human and has faced setbacks (which this new film reflects upon briefly), Hunt is society's beacon of hope amid looming global tensions. Despite the entertainingly ridiculous nature of the conflicts, Cruise makes us believe in the subliminal idea through every thrilling and impressive stunt he commits. Ethan Hunt is the man many audiences wish existed when they hear about potential threats--such as the fear of a World War III. As an action star, Cruise is an extreme but sincere cross between Buster Keaton and Harold Lloyd, but his stuntwork in The Final Reckoning is so awe-inspiring that it might have even left them in awe of what Cruise and the crew have accomplished. From a claustrophobic underwater mission to a wild set piece where Hunt hangs off a plane to face the antagonist Gabriel (played by Esai Morales), director Christopher McQuarrie approaches this final installment with a tilted aesthetic and enough breathing room between each set piece to keep the audience riveted rather than exhausted, as has been the case to varying degrees in the last three Mission: Impossible films he has directed. For a 170-minute blockbuster, The Final Reckoning feels closer to two hours because of how much care and ion the cast and crew bring to the drama and spectacle. The inclusion of flashbacks is also shorter than some reviews suggest and provides a familiar but satisfying narrative design for Hunt's final mission. As The Final Reckoning evolves, the issue of artificial intelligence's untapped power and how different national governments can exploit the technology drives the narrative as much as Cruise's stunts. It reminds viewers of that sociopolitical anxiety while giving it an escapist zeal within the framework of an action thriller. Even though the talented Hannah Waddingham is in the movie too briefly, every actor (including a cleverly included Rolf Saxon as William Donloe) serves the material well emotionally. While this might be the end of Cruise's era in the espionage world of Mission: Impossible, the overwhelming spirit of Ethan Hunt is seen and felt as he walks into the crowd in a well-considered conclusion.

On this week’s episode, I discuss David Lynch’s Lost Highway. 

Reel Values: Lost Highway. (SPOILERS). 

This review may contain spoilers.

For all the comparisons to Taxi Driver in 2018, Lynne Ramsay's You Were Never Really Here is so unique as a feature film that the comparison is superficial. The film concerns a traumatized veteran (Joaquin Phoenix's Joe) who tracks down and rescues missing girls for a living and is on a mission to find a senator's daughter (Ekaterina Samsonov's Nina Samsonov) while dealing with nightmares that affect him more deeply as time es. While Scorsese's 1976 masterpiece was integral to the dysfunctional sensibility of post-Vietnam America, Ramsay's film is timeless because her investment is in her central character's psychology rather than his environment in the mid-2010s. Building toward the final segments of enigmatic surrealism, Ramsay approaches Jonathan Ames' novella as a genre film with modern flair. Working with editor Joe Bini, Ramsay incorporates fragments of Joe's trauma within her framework. Through her collaboration with musician Jonny Greenwood, Ramsay creates a moody piece of filmmaking where the diurnal and nocturnal sensibilities bleed together in a hauntingly realized portrait of a troubled man's psyche. As Joe, Phoenix is psychologically and emotionally inward, but he is a man whose boiling rage is invisible. At any moment, the audience recognizes how Joe could turn instantly toward violence, and Phoenix portrays Joe's capacity with abrupt but low-key intimidation. During the final third of You Were Never Really Here, Ramsay takes what she has learned from Andrei Tarkovsky in his raw fusion of moral decay, nature, and spirituality by giving her film adaptation the same spirit. Playing with reality and fantasy, Ramsay concludes with an ending that shocks the senses before sorrow lingers into the wounds of the experience. The honesty of Ramsay's craftsmanship leaves the viewers scathed and exhilarated while thinking about what has happened to them. In presenting Joe and Nina's connection to the abuse they have faced in childhood, Ramsay delves into the abyss of trauma without holding back amid its deepest effects.

This review may contain spoilers.

Slightly Redeemed.
Hurry Up Tomorrow.
Directed by Trey Edward Shults.

  For all the complaints against Hurry Up Tomorrow as a disastrous effort, Trey Edward Shults' follow-up to his remarkable drama Waves is much better than many critics suggest. That being said, the core of Hurry Up Tomorrow is familiar but underdeveloped. For a film about Abel Tesfaye's spiritual rebirth, the fictionalized version of Tesfaye as an insomniac musician suffering from the breakup of a toxic relationship is unclear about what Tesfaye did to his ex-partner. At times, Hurry Up Tomorrow comes across as a psychedelic fantasy into the madness of someone with borderline personality disorder in how they refuse to see their flaws but attach to the next vulnerable person to take more than give until the person is inconvenient to them. The notion of Tesfaye's spiritual rebirth would be earned thematically if Tesfaye were direct about what he did rather than vaguely confronting his issues to move forward. As a result, the idea is a psychological contradiction rather than a critical self-reflection.
  For the rebirth to be earned emotionally, Tesfaye would need better skills as an actor because his delivery is mostly emotionally flat unless it is a quick, in-the-moment exchange; Tesfaye's musical talents provide more weight to the film than his acting. As the troubled young woman Anima, Jenna Ortega finally plays a character who is not the daughter of a significant actor or character, and she delivers the most dramatically nuanced performance of the three main actors here. While she is merely a device (Anima standing for the irrational part of a soul versus Tesfaye's irrational mind), Shults gives Ortega the movie's first quarter to perform visually rather than expressing her emotions through dialogue; Ortega has spoken about wanting to exercise her talents as an actor non-verbally due to her love for Dreyer's The ion of Joan of Arc. Even though Ortega is the best part of Hurry Up Tomorrow in the range she presents, the film's flaws (particularly in writing) are a disservice to her gifts as an actor. Shults gives her room to demonstrate her possibilities beyond the archetype of a gothic, deadpan daughter. As his friend and manager, Lee, Barry Keoghan plays a mere exaggeration of Tesfaye's indulgences and destruction without providing much depth, since he is a caricatured symptom of excess.
  As a director, Shults demonstrates his best and worst tendencies as a filmmaker, but the better characteristics outweigh the negative aspects. The early partying scenes are deliberately chaotic, but Shults' approach can be obnoxious in how superficial and cliché it is. The movie improves aesthetically when Shults' filmmaking embraces the quiet beauty of escapism (such as the conventional but lovely sequences at the Santa Monica Pier with Shults' cameo behind Ortega on a rollercoaster) and the hypnotic madness of Tesfaye's psychological journey. For every trite concept, Shults visualizes the ideas in direct, elegant imagery that makes more of an impression viscerally than thematically. Through his close-up shots, Shults captures the heartache and isolation of their faces vividly as if they are actors in a silent film. These merits visually make Hurry Up Tomorrow more unique than the average mainstream movie that could as a streaming release aesthetically.
  From its impressive effects to its unfulfilled catharsis, Hurry Up Tomorrow is a paradox of a motion picture. Hurry Up Tomorrow's brilliance makes it more resonant than its surface would indicate, but its limitations prevent the film from being a moving achievement in a fusion between filmmaking and music. Even though Tesfaye is the star of Hurry Up Tomorrow, Ortega and Shults give more to the experience than he does.

I participated in Sammy Juliano’s decade poll for the 1940s. 

The Juliano Decade Poll: 1940s. 

Even if it is my least favorite David Lynch film from the nineties, The Straight Story is still one of the best films of 1999. 

Reel Values: The Straight Story. (SPOILERS). 

Since the 78th Cannes Film Festival is about to begin, here are my favorite Palme d’Or winners. 

Cannes: Palme d’Or Winners. 

On this week’s episode, I discuss Alexander Payne’s Election. 

Reel Values: Election. (SPOILERS). 

On this week’s episode, I discuss Alexander Payne’s Nebraska. 

Reel Values: Nebraska. (SPOILERS). 

I participated in Sammy Juliano’s decade poll for the 1930s. It has been a while since I have seen a few of these films, but I being taken by them.

Juliano Decade Poll: The 1930s. 

As expected from Leo McCarey, Love Affair is elegantly framed and choreographed. The lighting can be at too high of a key, but there are so many images that surprise and elate due to the beauty of the craftsmanship. The story itself (which is conventional in 2025) is a case where the lead actors (Irene Charles and Charles Boyer as Terry McKay and Michel Marnay) are individually sublime, but they never come across as potential partners. At best, Charles and Boyer feel like people who would respect each other platonically rather than fall in love. Despite this issue, McCarey and his ensemble offer enough pleasure to enjoy with humorous setups (particularly on the ship) and a tender sequence involving Maria Ouspenskaya as Michel’s grandmother.

This review may contain spoilers.

On Swift Horses is the First Great Movie of 2025.
On Swift Horses.
Directed by Daniel Minahan.

  In an era when America's istration speaks about enforcing its citizens to follow nuclear family values, a film like Daniel Minahan's On Swift Horses is a welcome counterargument against those bigoted forces. The counterargument is even better because of how dramatically stirring On Swift Horses is. The film focuses on a young woman named Muriel (Daisy Edgar-Jones) and her husband Lee (Will Poulter), beginning a new life after his return home from the Korean War, until his brother Julius (Jacob Elordi) arrives from the war and changes their lives as time es. Even though this is the premise for On Swift Horses, the film concerns Muriel and Julius' experiences being closeted and trying to navigate a heteronormative society through the people they grow to love and those they fear. While the movie is based on Shannon Pufahl's novel, Minahan and screenwriter Bryce Kass approach these characters and their conflicts with a palpable authenticity that cuts through the artifice of ‘50s Americana.
  Through Minahan's collaboration with the talented ensemble, the audience feels the pain, uncertainty, confusion, and longing of what it is like to be queer, and it comes with an overwhelming emotional charge due to everyone's investment in the material. As the naive but sincere Muriel, Edgar-Jones exhibits a natural sense of sweetness that is immediately appealing, but grounds it with the emotional depth of isolation and trying to understand herself through her sexuality. Even though his appearance and psychological undercurrent may recall Montgomery Clift and Rock Hudson, the wholly unique Elordi quickly appeals to our senses with his charm and handsomeness, and it happens instantly with a sexy shot of the shirtless Elordi lying on top of a car hood while conversing with Muriel as she talks to him through her window. The visual juxtaposition demonstrates their place in society, while their looks at each other suggest more beyond their statuses into the realm of feelings. Until now, Edgar-Jones and Elordi have never been given characters as richly conceived as Muriel and Julius, since Minahan has given them room to bring a part of themselves into their characters to make them and their behaviors fully human. In the case of Lee, what may have initially seemed to be a device for exposition for Muriel, Julius, and the audience is given more complexity due to Kass's nonjudgmental development of the character and Poulter's nuanced performance. Poulter has often portrayed characters that necessitated a caricatured performance, but Lee enables him to deliver a performance that seamlessly blends empathy, angst, and anger. The ing characters who become a part of Muriel and Julius' individual experiences are given vivid life by Diego Calva as Julius' lover Henry who is constantly on the edge of life to take what he wants, Sasha Calle as Muriel's neighbor and lover Sandra who eventually grows tired of being Muriel's hobby, and Kat Cunning as Gail who easily es through our heteronormative society with a comion and intelligence that comforts the concerned Muriel. The uniformly sublime cast presents deeply felt portrayals of the American experience and how their dreams can mesh with their fears. 
  While gambling is a significant activity in the film, Minahan gives what could have been a clumsily obvious metaphor a genuinely felt sense of meaning in how it relates to the constant sense of luck and moving within an oppressive society. Minahan's handling of Kass' screenplay is direct without being didactic and moving without being cloying because he considers the volume for every scene as it builds toward breathtakingly transcendent and juxtaposed shots of longing through Julius riding his horse to be with Henry in Las Vegas and Muriel back at her home in Kansas as she looks at the snow on Christmas Eve. It is a well-considered irony to recognize how the movie starts and ends with Christmas because they present different meanings for Muriel from conforming to Lee's dream of a nuclear family in San Diego to living life on her at the home her mother gave her. The path to self-expression and freedom of choice is the core of Minahan's film and how these characters overcome the obstacles of everyday life. Instead of painting these characters in stereotypical , Minahan and Kass acknowledge Julius' patriarchally informed misogyny before his eventual pursuit to make amends with Muriel, Lee's acceptance and love for Julius despite their differences, and Muriel's appreciation of Lee's dream, even if she does not want to be a part of it. The complexity of Julius, Muriel, and Lee's humanity is refreshing in modern cinema because it corrects the limitations of how the media and government like to present people.
   Aesthetically speaking, Minahan's production values are in tune with the era's color palette--particularly the elegant set designs and clothes and how they create America's idyllic facade. Beyond the visual pleasures of what Minahan conveys during the day, the night sequences exhibit an underlying beauty and moodiness that gets to the source of who these characters are as people and their desires beneath their facial expressions--particularly during the close-up shots. Minahan’s handling of Mark Orton’s beautiful score is delicate because he knows when to emphasize it in the right moments. The choreography and editing of the sex scenes are brief but tense because they indicate a character's sexual preferences and the ionate escape they desire into the realm of possibilities for their happiness against the banality and sorrow of pretending to fit within America's traditional image. Since this is classicist storytelling, Minahan approaches each atmosphere with a closeness that parallels the characters' feelings during a specific moment without any instances of detachment. While the movie recalls '50s melodramas (particularly the work of Douglas Sirk) and Todd Haynes' Far from Heaven, On Swift Horses is a queer romantic melodrama for and of our time.

Here is another list I completed recently: Official Top 250 Narrative Feature Films. (Top Ten). 

Here is a list I completed recently: IMDb Top 250. (Top Ten). 

On this week’s episode, I discuss What’s Love Got to Do with It.  

Reel Values: What’s Love Got to Do with It. (SPOILERS). 

This review may contain spoilers.

Vampires in the Deep South.
Sinners.
Directed by Ryan Coogler.

  These days, I have become slightly skeptical of any movie the press praises enthusiastically as "the best movie of the year so far" because of the blurb-riddled takes that are practically designed for the film's marketing campaign. In the case of Ryan Coogler's Sinners, it is not the masterpiece some have called it, but Coogler's latest feature is overflowing with creative juice. In of the average mainstream release, it is rare to see a genre film driven by a filmmaker's ideas about history and society. While the narrative mostly occurs in 1932, Sinners feels contemporary due to how critical and reflective Coogler is of the past and its sociopolitical influence on the present. The movie concerns two troubled identical twins (Michael B. Jordan plays Elijah "Smoke" Moore with a blue flat cap and Ellias "Stack" Moore with a red brimmed hat) and who have endured the horrors of World War I to embrace criminality in America because it is their only way of experiencing any freedom within their racially restricted roles, even if it is built around self-destructive greed and power. The color choices for the two brothers suggest an American culture in conflict with itself as much as the outside forces surrounding it. Coogler focuses on how Smoke and Stack attempt to begin their lives again in their hometown after leaving Chicago while dealing with dysfunctional relationships--specifically with Smoke's estranged wife Annie (Wunmi Mosaku) and Stack's ex-girlfriend Mary (Hailee Steinfeld), who es as white, even though she is secretly one-eighth black. Considering these narrative elements together, Sinners has the setup for a compelling melodrama about the struggles of these people's lives within the corruption of the Deep South before becoming a variation on From Dusk Till Dawn with white vampires slowly taking over Smoke and Stack's new juke t.
  While some people will likely complain about the film's shift toward horror, Coogler's inclusion of vampires is another fascinating component in his allegory because of its metaphorical implications; audiences will know about the vampires from the marketing campaigns. Coogler transcends the stereotypical bigot with the vampires (led by Jack O'Connell's Remmick) by conveying them as people who can deceive with a message of equality, even if their victims suffer within their limited agenda and lifestyle. Another aspect of their involvement--which becomes an integral part of the narrative design--is through Smoke and Stack's cousin Sammie "Preacher Boy" Moore (Miles Caton) and his interest in being a blues guitarist. From Remmick and his vampires to Sammie's pastor father (Saul Williams' Jedidiah Moore) warning against the supernatural danger of the music, Coogler approaches Sammie as a figure built around the cultural history of blues music and its evolution, and how Sammie will lead his life. Coogler's concern is about the potential loss of the music's expressive form and its cultural history when surrounding cultures appropriate it into an artificial variant of the form. In one set piece before the vampires arrive, Coogler breaks apart the period-specific conventions to include future figures (including a hip-hop DJ) within the musical setting to suggest the blues' impact on later music.
  As a director, Coogler is high on the energy of the music as much as the images he creates because every shot is textured in its aesthetic consideration to convey the shifts between high emotions (including the brief liberation and frequent rage) and the undercurrents of pain through their isolation. Whether they are active or still, the takes (particularly in how they are edited) are in tune with the characters and their feelings. Even though the aesthetic has been unnecessarily muted to parallel the film's serious tone in post-production (an issue most modern films have in the era of Netflix), Coogler's color palette for Sinners is elegant and meshes fluidly with the period. What Coogler has learned choreographically from his previous work has led him here with set pieces focused and executed at the right frame and speed, because we feel a part of the setting Coogler creates. The exhilaration of Coogler's direction helps him overcome the limitations of his script when he is stuck within the muddiness of the themes he addresses. If the image is always considered in Sinners, the ideas are either nuanced or underdeveloped. At the conclusion, the vampires Stack and Mary visit an older and celebrated Sammie (played by blues guitarist Bobby Guy) at a club, and Sammie speaks about the day before the vampires arrived that night being the greatest day of his life, and how Stack agrees due to the freedom they felt. While the young Sammie enjoyed himself without his father's domineering influence when he was at the juke t, the conclusion feels slight due to the gravity of the traumatic event. Even when a day is so wonderful until tragedy occurs later, the memory will be marred and overwhelmed by pain and sorrow, with mere glimmers of what felt good; the hardships Stack and Smoke faced before that night could be delved into more beyond what is said or inferred. Coogler creates themes (even the complexly conceived ones) as if they are injections rather than considering their place within the narrative and how they cohere.
  Despite its thematically cluttered structure, the talented ensemble responds to the script with as much enthusiasm as Coogler and helps overcome the limitations in writing. As Smoke and Stack, Jordan excels at portraying Smoke's coldness and Stack's kindness within his tough demeanor. Jordan's scenes as Smoke with Mosaku's Annie and how they deal with the loss of their infant daughter are as sincerely felt as the interracial dynamic between Stack and Steinfeld's Mary. Jordan, Mosaku, and Steinfeld authentically portray the heartache of their circumstances within Coogler's framework. As the young Sammie, Caton is easily empathetic because he approaches Sammie's aspirations and the obstacles surrounding them in a low-key manner by not limiting himself to an archetype emotionally--such as the bright-eyed youngster with the American dream. From Omar Benson Miller's amusing performance as Cornbread to Li Jun Li's concerned but conscientious Grace Chow, the ing cast is also credible in their roles because they cohere tonally with the rest of the film. For all its issues in writing, Coogler's hybrid of crime drama and horror within a historical setting is overwhelming in the pathos it creates from within. While the mainstream output has mostly been IPs, it is easy to want Sinners to be a success, but it is easier and earned when the movie is as satisfying as it is.

On this week’s episode, I discuss Todd Solondz’s Happiness. 

Reel Values: Happiness. 

This review may contain spoilers.

Over the last few weeks, a straight guy on Facebook kept posting old pictures of Rebecca Romijn to the point where I decided it was probably a good idea to revisit Brian De Palma's Femme Fatale. De Palma's 2002 film had been on my watchlist for some time because of my initial reaction to it and how my opinion about The Fury and Snake Eyes had changed for the better. While the film was dismissed by many as self-parody at the time and mostly praised for its elegant filmmaking, Femme Fatale appears (in retrospect) as a reflective auto-critique of the genre conventions and obsessions that have driven De Palma to the brink of madness in his art. De Palma establishes the titular idea immediately with Romijn's reflection against the TV as her Laure Ash watches Billy Wilder's masterpiece Double Indemnity before committing an erotically charged and cleverly choreographed diamond heist at the Cannes Film Festival. By including Double Indemnity and the heist that follows it, the intertextuality of Femme Fatale provokes the viewer to think about the archetype's evolution and its place within a bolder era in the early 2000s and how men regard women like Laure. Much of Femme Fatale is an exploration of voyeurism and its linkage through a patriarchal view with its POV shots, split screens, and the frequent motif of taking pictures through cameras. In some respects, the film (particularly through Antonio Banderas' paparazzo Nicolas Bardo) is a modern, subliminal response to the news photographer L.B. "Jeff" Jefferies (James Stewart) from Rear Window to indicate how far voyeurism has evolved. What makes Femme Fatale stand out among De Palma's work is how it defies the viewers' narrative expectations about where Laure (under the guise of Lily) will lead by becoming simultaneously surreal and spiritual. When Laure is thrown into the water, De Palma creates electrifying imagery of a nude Laure staying underwater before swimming to the surface, and the images suggest a rebirth for Laure and how she will approach the rest of her life since the previous scenes with Nicolas were a dream. As De Palma reframes Laure, Femme Fatale becomes a sincere consideration of destiny and how comion plays a part of it in De Palma's vision. What the ending of Femme Fatale indicates about De Palma is how he is a bitter romantic at heart and full of longing, and it is easy to recognize this sentiment when recalling the heartache of his past characters--particularly John Travolta's Jack Terry at the end of Blow Out and Angie Dickinson's Kate Miller from Dressed to Kill. As violent and sexual as De Palma's films can be, the filmmaker's best films (including Femme Fatale) derive from a misunderstood but deeply empathetic core within him and how it commands emotion and meaning through the development of his images.

This review may contain spoilers.

In Joey Figueroa and Zak Knutson’s hagiographic documentary Milius, there are scenes so absurd they provoke laughter. The first hilarious joke (which is a frequent one throughout the documentary) concerns how BRILLIANT John Milius is with dialogue; one person refers to his dialogue as realistic. As viewers watch clips from his movies (including some I have not seen), it would be easy for them to laugh at how ridiculous their optimistic perspective is toward Milius’ writing. Near the conclusion, some people (including Milius) try to argue that Hollywood was against him after making a movie as conservative as Red Dawn until Figueroa and Knutson include clips from popular right-leaning celebrities in the business——including Sylvester Stallone and Clint Eastwood. Eastwood’s view is on target because people forget how conservative some of Hollywood is. For a quick reference, readers should search for Michael Moore’s acceptance speech at the Oscars on YouTube to hear the boos from the audience. Humorous segments aside, the most fascinating aspects about Milius are more so about his domineering sensibility than his art. Even though George Lucas speaks eloquently about the media’s creation of personas, it is difficult to care about a Trump er and his insane nonsense when the modern Right exploits irony to be horrible. Milius is as obnoxious as Sam Elliott’s line about him and his work, but most viewers would be glad he exists merely due to the creation of Walter Sobchak. As aesthetically and narratively standard as Milius is, there are intriguing anecdotes about the filmmaker, and they unintentionally solidify Pauline Kael’s stance against him as a fascist.

As great as this film is (probably Norman Jewison’s best), it is interesting to think how three of the people involved (including Jewison, Hal Ashby, and Lee Grant) would outdo themselves with another movie about race relations, The Landlord——an unsung gem from the seventies. As progressive as its view of racism is for its time, what make In the Heat of a Night more than a gripping crime thriller is how Jewison and screenwriter Sterling Silliphant approach the southern atmosphere and the characters within it. Their view of the south is unapologetically critical, but the characters transcend any possibility of being stereotypical since they feel authentic to the climate. At times, Silliphant’s behaviorally nuanced exploration is worthy of Tennessee Williams at his best in how the late master could find the humanity of his characters at their best and worst by demonstrating how those moral contrasts cohere. The film’s craftsmanship is as elegantly raw as the characters because we know there are details being withheld about them. Jewison emphasizes this notion through how he frames the actors and considers their internal motivations through Haskell Wexler’s cinematography. The cast is uniformly superb (particularly the fierceness but eventual respect between Sidney Poitier’s Virgil Tibbs and Rod Steiger’s Chief Bill Gillespie) in their portrayal of each character without overplaying tense moments in the narrative. At 110 minutes, Jewison’s southern gothic gem still packs a punch.

For all the press about Warfare being co-directed by an Iraq War veteran, the responses to the background detail suggest the notion of a veteran working as a filmmaker being new in the history of cinema but forget about auteurs like Sam Peckinpah and Oliver Stone. Given the investment in Ray Mendoza's status over Alex Garland's credit as a co-director, the focus is likely a superficial way of drawing interest from audiences because of how shallow and trite Warfare is as a motion picture. The film is an experiential piece about a mission that goes awry for a platoon of American Navy Seals in Iraq. Mendoza and Garland intend to place audiences within the dread and horror of a soldier's experience, but their approach is misguided in how the narrative design is. Warfare is an emotional vampire because it is a film that expects viewers to care fully about its central characters due to their status as American soldiers and exhausts the audience with every violent moment. After fifteen minutes, it would be fair for audiences to want to leave since Warfare is an empty, demagogic picture that confirms every person's perspective about war and the American military through conventions of combat violence and brotherhood. Some talented actors (including Charles Melton and Will Poulter) are asked to play action figures that shout and talk but are merely interchangeable chess pieces for the American military. As I wrote in my essay on Garland's Civil War last year, those who insist on being "apolitical" as a possibility are merely in denial of how every person (and movie) is political. Those people should care about whether a movie or person (including themselves) is democratic or demagogic when considering an issue. As aesthetically competent as the movie is in its isolated setting, Warfare is a movie that exploits its thematic obviousness and unglamorized view of violence as a badge of honor when it is ultimately a safe and regressive work of dehumanization where it is heroes versus villains in its archetypal view.

This review may contain spoilers.

Robert Benton’s Places in the Heart is one of those films where the decisions on the page are either careful or mechanical. During its best moments, the gifted ensemble (particularly Sally Field, Danny Glover, and John Malkovich) make the most of their archetypal roles and give their conflicts a deeply felt sense of authenticity. The sequences where these actors are at their most vulnerable reveal an emotional complexity that defies their stereotypes briefly. When the movie is at its worst, the contrivances in Benton’s screenplay completely undermine the ensemble’s dramatic commitment to their roles. The tornado set piece is the most dramatically cloying and ridiculously written scene in the film because it is merely in place to keep the audience on edge about what will happen to the characters. As elegant and well-framed as Néstor Almendros’ cinematography is, there are moments in the tornado set piece where you want to turn away from the screen due to how silly the situation is structurally. There is also a boring and unnecessary subplot about marital infidelity, but it is merely a part of Benton’s interest in affecting the audience’s emotions more. When the church finale occurs, the conclusion is genuinely touching in its view of racial equality due to how it is acted, shot, and written. It is only unfortunate how the ending is more affecting than the film as a whole. In his study of race relations, Benton is empathetic toward the black characters, but his reliance on mainstream conventions to appease the audience is dishonest. Places in the Heart would be a great film if Benton had delved more deeply into its central issue, but that film likely would have been too provocative for Reagan’s America.

I participated in Sammy Juliano’s decade poll for the 1920s. Some of these are based on the memory of a feeling I had after them, even if I cannot a lot about them due to one-time viewings and the years since seeing them. 

The Juliano Decade Poll: 1920s. 

On this week’s episode, I discuss Mike Leigh’s Naked. 

Reel Values: Naked. (SPOILERS). 

This review may contain spoilers.

The dramatic core of Vsevolod Pudovkin’s Mother is a family destruction amid political strife. During a workers’ strike, a mother is at the center of her husband and son representing two different sides of the 1905 Revolution. The question is who she will choose to side with politically. Pudovkin’s execution of the idea mostly transcends didacticism since his montage and cast emphasize the psychological and emotional depths of the conflict visually. Mother only falters dramatically when it becomes a courtroom drama briefly in the second act. Then, Mother gradually rebuilds its momentum until its powerful finale. While it might not be the masterpiece Pauline Kael called it, Mother is a superb sociopolitical drama due to its investment in the family’s growing dysfunction over time.

This review may contain spoilers.

Despite its elegantly raw cinematography (particularly the POV shots of the surfers), Bruce Brown’s The Endless Summer has a buoyant but slight tone. After a while, the confident and playful narrator might as well be saying, “Oh, these heroic men! Look at how excellent they are at surfing.” When Brown deals with anyone else besides the surfers, the people are reduced to offensive stereotypes in awe of the men. The scenes where Brown focuses on parts of South Africa (specifically the black children and their reactions to the surfers) are so racist beneath its coy tone that The Endless Summer could be a Trojan Horse: a surfboard ment with an imperialist undertone. Brown’s view of women is also sexist in how he judges them based on the difficulty of their bathing suits in the water. Considering its perspective on female surfers and people of color, The Endless Summer ultimately indicates a lot about Brown’s limited worldview. Even though The Endless Summer is unique aesthetically, Brown undermines any potential due to tiresome narration and a regressive ideology.

Benjamin Christensen’s Häxan is fascinating and mostly entertaining for how and what it examines for its time. The film is an early example of cinema as a medium for criticism (think of Jean-Luc Godard and Abbas Kiarostami) in its docufiction exploration of the sociopolitical complexities of witchcraft and how it was exploited against women from the Middle Age to the twentieth century. The structural construction of fictional vignettes and historical information is daring and irable, but the structure also bogs down the film dramatically at times since some scenes are drier than the more eccentric and intriguing sections of the film——particularly with the Devil or other fantastical creatures. Still, there is much to appreciate about Häxan aesthetically and thematically since it is nuanced in its depiction of how patriarchal and misogynistic society is toward women.

This review may contain spoilers.

I was relatively distant toward this film in high school because of how much I love The Silence of the Lambs. As time ed, there were aspects I recalled from the film because they left an imprint. When I rewatched it in 2023, I realized how I had missed on the boat on this cooly stylish and riveting thriller. The images Michael Mann creates aesthetically are among the most elegant and hypnotic of the eighties because of how he learns and applies skills from German Expressionism through the conscious consideration of color, framing, and lighting. When Will Graham (William Petersen) talks to the window in the diner about wanting to find the Tooth Fairy, Mann emphasizes the emotional drive for justice in a close-up shot of a fierce Graham as heavy rain hits the window with Michel Rubini’s electronic score channeling and amplifying the inner depths of his rage. The shot is so electrifying it burns in your memory, but the same can also be said about the rest of the film——especially the shot of a burning dead man in a wheelchair and another shot of Graham running into the window to face the Tooth Fairy. The bedroom scene between Joan Allen’s blind Reba and Tom Noonan’s Tooth Fairy with Shriekback’s “This Big Hush” playing against the moment fuses beauty, terror, and suspense at a low key——particularly the haunting close-up shot of the Tooth Fairy covering his mouth with his hand. Mann is hit-or-miss as a director, but Manhunter is his best film after his directorial debut, Thief.

This review may contain spoilers.

There are moments in Lee Issac Chung’s Twisters that indicate it is by the same director who made Minari. These instances are elegantly realized and intimate scenes that provoke more interest visually than any of the tornado-chasing spectacle surrounding them. The aesthetic consideration of the color palette with the camera’s focus on the actors (who are basically bringing their personalities to the thin material) have more vitality than the real-life threat of a tornado. While the 1996 film was not a masterpiece, Jan De Bont was able to grip his audience in each spectacle because there was palpable tension due to the successfully functional relationship between pathos and technique. By leaving his comfort zone, Chung has ironically sucked the energy out of his movie. The tornados are artificial in their creation, and you constantly feel as if you are in an unrefined simulation rather than the setting with the characters. It might be interesting for a second to see a fireworks within a tornado, but it is too brief and digitized to resonate dramatically. In Twister, there was an exciting drive-inn set piece, and it subliminally suggested the fading of a communal space for the public. With Twisters, Chung and his crew have recreated and replaced the idea with an old-school theater, and the notion of the theatrical experience fading comes to mind when the scene happens. From its country music soundtrack to the goofy lines about chasin’ and ridin’, it is easy to understand the sentiment about the theatrical experience since this latest IP is frequently banal and corny.

As someone who generally loves surreal art, I knew Teinosuke Kinugasa's A Page of Madness would be for me within the first few minutes. Kinugasa's silent horror film focuses on a man becoming a janitor (Masao Inoue) at an asylum to free his wife (Yoshie Nakagawa), and the result is a full-fledged nightmare, aesthetically and emotionally. Through every superimposition and visual pattern, Kinugasa creates a film fueled by claustrophobic angst, but what makes it so gripping is how it is hard not to look away from the screen. Kinugasa achieves the effect of leaving the audience simultaneously in awe and terror because there is a beauty to the imagery he creates, even when he is jolting you with his fast-motion editing and the Aonno Jiken Ensemble's pulsating score. The superimpositions tap into the frenzied and frustrated psychology of the characters. Audiences feel and observe their anguish in abrupt, rapid detail. The ensemble commits to the extreme in their performances and meshes perfectly with the chaotic and insane energy of Kinugasa's nightmarish canvas. Like most surreal art, viewers may not be able to describe what is happening narratively at times, but that is how we generally respond to our nightmares. We recognize details and situations but cannot completely comprehend what we are experiencing. The enigmatic quality of nightmares amplifies Kinugasa's vision as much as the performances and the intense score. Even though some have complained about not being able to engage with Kinugasa's film due to how experimental it is, A Page of Madness is one of the few silent films that is arguably rewatchable due to how overwhelming it is. Kinugasa might throw us into the madhouse with all its gloom and violence, but we are possessed enough by the craftsmanship and pathos of his masterpiece to enter the madhouse again.

On this week’s episode, I discuss one of my all-time favorites, Alfonso Cuarón’s Y Tu Mamá También. 

Y Tu Mamá También: The Road to Self-Discovery. (SPOILERS). 

I participated in Sammy Juliano’s decade poll for the 1910s. I have not seen many films from this decade, but here were the ones that satisfied me most.

The Juliano Decade Poll: 1910s. 

This review may contain spoilers.

Set against the Napoleonic Wars and its aftermath, Victor Sjöström's A Man There Was looks into the eyes of war and its effects on everyone involved (mainly the civilians in this case). The loss and devastation of Terje Vigin's experiences from being a sailor (played by Sjöström) who intends to provide for his family until he becomes a prisoner of war in England and how he returns home to learn of his family's fate while away for a few years are a part of a larger thematic framework where Sjöström visualizes the complexity of these tragic moments and how they alter Terje's sense of humanity. From intense to heartbreaking sequences (such as Terje rowing his boat away from the British army to Terje's fall when discovering the deaths of his wife and daughter), Sjöström's choices aesthetically are dramatically direct, and it is difficult not to be taken by Terje's journey for what Sjöström brings to the role and narrative. When Terje unintentionally encounters the officer responsible for his imprisonment during a storm, Sjöström challenges the audience to wonder how they would respond to someone who had made their life worse in the past. Then, Sjöström makes Terje realize how war has robbed him of his comion when he sees the captain's daughter. The recognition of the daughter causes Terje to understand how harming the officer will not resolve his pain and how the officer's family would be as traumatized as he is about the loss of his wife and daughter. At sixty-five minutes, Sjöström explores the psychologically nuanced devolution of the human condition during and after war before regaining empathy beyond the anguish of previous experiences. Reflecting on the film today, A Man There Was is an early anti-war drama before the genre would become muddled in its politics and style.

I participated in Sammy Juliano’s decade poll for the 1950s. 

(In alphabetical order).

• The 400 Blows
• All About Eve
• Anatomy of a Murder
• Creature from the Black Lagoon
• Floating Clouds
• The Flowers of St. Francis
• Forbidden Games
• The Gunfighter
• Imitation of Life
• Invasion of the Body Snatchers

...plus 20 more. View the full list on Letterboxd.

1. Mission: Impossible – The Final Reckoning
2. Mission: Impossible – Ghost Protocol
3. Mission: Impossible – Dead Reckoning
4. Mission: Impossible – Rogue Nation
5. Mission: Impossible
6. Mission: Impossible III
7. Mission: Impossible – Fallout
8. Mission: Impossible II

I participated in Sammy Juliano’s decade poll for the 1940s.

(In alphabetical order).

• Beauty and the Beast
• The Best Years of Our Lives
• Bicycle Thieves
• Citizen Kane
• A Day in the Country
• Double Indemnity
• Fireworks
• Hail the Conquering Hero
• The Heiress
• His Girl Friday

...plus 20 more. View the full list on Letterboxd.

Since the 78th Cannes Film Festival is about to begin, here are my favorite Palme d'Or winners.

1. The Umbrellas of Cherbourg
2. The Wages of Fear
3. The Tree of Life
4. Anatomy of a Fall
5. Amour
6. Taxi Driver
7. Titane
8. Paris, Texas
9. Blow-Up
10. All That Jazz

I participated in Sammy Juliano’s decade poll for the 1930s. It has been a while since I have seen a few of these films, but I being taken by them.

(In alphabetical order).

• The Adventures of Robin Hood
• All Quiet on the Western Front
• The Black Cat
• The Blue Angel
• Bride of Frankenstein
• Bringing Up Baby
• City Lights
• Design for Living
• Duck Soup
• Frankenstein

...plus 20 more. View the full list on Letterboxd.

1. Chinatown
2. The ion of Joan of Arc
3. Psycho
4. The Godfather

   Parts I & II are a complete film in my eyes. 

5. The Godfather Part II
6. Jaws
7. Vertigo
8. Raging Bull
9. Rear Window
10. Some Like It Hot

...plus 1 more. View the full list on Letterboxd.

1. Sansho the Bailiff
2. Chungking Express
3. Chinatown
4. The ion of Joan of Arc
5. A Special Day
6. Make Way for Tomorrow
7. Psycho
8. A Woman Under the Influence
9. Late Spring
10. The 400 Blows

(In alphabetical order).

• Assault on Precinct 13
• Castle in the Sky
• Dersu Uzala
• Fallen Angels
• Mad Max 2
• Point Break
• Revenge
• Terminator 2: Judgment Day
• To Live and Die in L.A.
• The Warriors

I will add notes to the films with no reviews soon.

Rating: 4.2.

1. Late Spring
2. The Only Son
3. Tokyo Twilight
4. An Autumn Afternoon
5. Good Morning
6. I Was Born, But...
7. Late Autumn
8. The Flavor of Green Tea Over Rice
9. Tokyo Story
10. Early Summer

...plus 16 more. View the full list on Letterboxd.

Note: 
I had forgotten two features when completing this list initially.

1. The Man from Laramie
2. Anatomy of a Murder
3. The Last Detail
4. The Last Picture Show
5. Casualties of War
6. Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb
7. Taxi Driver
8. Lawrence of Arabia
9. Ishtar
10. Mr. Smith Goes to Washington

Given the last time I watched them, a few films——like the reappraised Femme Fatale——deserve a rewatch. Nonetheless, I am a De Palma champion and adore him very much.

1. Blow Out
2. Carrie
3. Casualties of War
4. Dressed to Kill
5. Femme Fatale
6. The Fury
7. Snake Eyes
8. Phantom of the Paradise
9. Body Double
10. Hi, Mom!

...plus 13 more. View the full list on Letterboxd.

I participated in Sammy Juliano’s decade poll for the 1920s. Some of these are based on the memory of a feeling I had after them, even if I cannot a lot about them due to one-time viewings and the years since seeing them. 

(In alphabetical order).

• Battleship Potemkin
• The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari
• The Circus
• The Crowd
• The Fall of the House of Usher
• The General
• The Gold Rush
• Häxan
• The Kid
• The Lodger: A Story of the London Fog

...plus 15 more. View the full list on Letterboxd.

Honorable Mentions:
Back to School. (Alan Metter). 
Castle in the Sky. (Hayao Miyazaki)
Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. (John Hughes).
Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer. (John McNaughton). 
Ruthless People. (David Zucker, Jerry Zucker, and Jim Abrahams)
Sid and Nancy. (Alex Cox).
The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2. (Tobe Hooper).

1. Blue Velvet
2. Hannah and Her Sisters
3. Something Wild
4. Vagabond
5. Desert Hearts
6. Manhunter
7. The Fly
8. The Sacrifice
9. Down and Out in Beverly Hills
10. Trouble in Mind

...plus 1 more. View the full list on Letterboxd.

“Cinema is a matter of what's in the frame and what's out,” stated by Martin Scorsese.

1. Raging Bull
2. GoodFellas
3. Killers of the Flower Moon
4. Taxi Driver
5. Mean Streets
6. The Irishman
7. The Wolf of Wall Street
8. No Direction Home: Bob Dylan
9. The Last Waltz
10. The Age of Innocence

...plus 21 more. View the full list on Letterboxd.

Honorable Mentions: 
The Big Red One. (Samuel Fuller). 
The Blues Brothers. (John Landis). 
Flash Gordon. (Mike Hodges). 
Kagemusha. (Akira Kurosawa). 
The Long Good Friday. (John Mackenzie). 
The Long Riders. (Walter Hill). 
Melvin and Howard. (Jonathan Demme).
Ordinary People. (Robert Redford). 
Return of the Secaucus Seven. (John Sayles). 
Urban Cowboy. (James Bridges).
Used Cars. (Robert Zemeckis).

1. Raging Bull

   Updating the sports genre with grounded authenticity, Martin Scorsese's bruising masterpiece examines violence inside and outside of the ring for boxer Jake LaMotta--Robert De Niro at his best and most haunting. The film is also a tragic study of how jealousy and angst can destruct the ideas and connection of brotherhood. No other sports film could match Scorsese's spirit and honesty.

2. Dressed to Kill

   Considered as misogynistic at the time, Brian De Palma's satirical and provocative update on Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho was the work of a young master. Despite what detractors express, De Palma is not smug to the women in his film, and he even captures one of the most touching moments in his career with Angie Dickinson. De Palma's bloody satire of sexual frustration and angst would become the presentiment of the AIDS epidemic.

3. In a Year with 13 Moons
4. Every Man for Himself

   Jean-Luc Godard’s “second first film” is a daring and haunting return from ’s greatest auteur as he covers the depths of a capitalistic society where patriarchy exerts dominance. It is unabashedly Godard.

5. The Elephant Man
6. The Empire Strikes Back
7. The Changeling
8. The Chant of Jimmie Blacksmith
9. The Fog
10. The Shining

1. Harold and Maude
2. The Landlord
3. Bound for Glory
4. Coming Home
5. The Last Detail
6. Being There
7. Shampoo
8. 8 Million Ways to Die
9. Lookin' to Get Out

1. Psycho
2. Jaws
3. A Page of Madness
4. The Innocents
5. Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me
6. Carrie
7. Serial Mom
8. The Substance
9. Onibaba
10. Rosemary's Baby

Like the English list, I am going with twenty-five choices.

1. Sansho the Bailiff
2. All About My Mother
3. Chungking Express
4. Belle de Jour
5. PlayTime
6. The ion of Joan of Arc
7. A Special Day
8. Late Spring
9. Vivre Sa Vie

   I include this one due to my recent unofficial participation in the S&S poll. There are four Godards (Band of Outsiders, Contempt, Vivre Sa Vie, and Weekend) I place at the same level, so my favorite Godard depends on my mood.

10. The 400 Blows

...plus 15 more. View the full list on Letterboxd.

I participated in Sammy Juliano’s decade poll for the 1910s. I have not seen many films from this decade, but here were the ones that satisfied me most.

(In alphabetical order)

• The Cameraman's Revenge
• The Cook
• A Dog's Life
• Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
• Falling Leaves
• Gertie the Dinosaur
• A Man There Was
• Shoes
• Suspense.
• The Unchanging Sea

I participated in Sammy Juliano’s western genre film poll today. The task was to choose twenty films.

While I place multiple masterpieces by John Ford and Anthony Mann after my current favorite by them, the ranking is in alphabetical order. 

While I would not say this is a genre I love, westerns can be fascinating in how they respond to the mythology of the West.

• The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford
• Blazing Saddles
• Brokeback Mountain
• Days of Heaven

  It is arguable since Days defies classical conventions like McCabe, but its ethos aesthetically, historically, and characteristically contributes to my definition of the genre’s expansion. 

• Dead Man
• First Cow
• The Gunfighter
• Killers of the Flower Moon
• The Man from Laramie
• The Naked Spur

...plus 10 more. View the full list on Letterboxd.

1. Zodiac
2. Se7en
3. Fight Club
4. Gone Girl
5. The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
6. The Game
7. The Social Network
8. Mank
9. The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo
10. Panic Room

...plus 2 more. View the full list on Letterboxd.

Inspired by Stephanie Zacharek’s list for Time. As you may assume, some missing choices would be on this list if it was not for the ten-per-decade setup. Each list of the decade is in alphabetical order. 

Note to readers: 
When I say “best”, it does not mean I think my taste is “better” than yours. Best and favorite have become synonymous to me over time, so do not take “best” as a sign of superiority. We all have different tastes.

Edit: 
I consider Beau Travail as a 2000 film due to its U.S. release date.

• The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari
• The Crowd
• The Kid
• The Lodger: A Story of the London Fog
• Metropolis
• Ménilmontant
• Nosferatu
• The ion of Joan of Arc
• Sherlock Jr.
• Un Chien Andalou

...plus 90 more. View the full list on Letterboxd.

In honor of International Women’s Day, here are a hundred great performances by women since the silent era. Since there are so many, I may have forgotten a few, but these ones stand out and are a part of my love for the medium. 

Read the notes to see which performances I acknowledge.

(In alphabetical order by film title)

• 3 Women

  Shelley Duvall. 

• All About My Mother

  Cecilia Roth. 

• All That Heaven Allows

  Jane Wyman. 

• Amour

  Emmanuelle Riva. 

• Anatomy of a Fall

  Sandra Hüller. 

• Belle de Jour

  Catherine Deneuve. 

• Blow Out

  Nancy Allen. 

• The Blue Angel

  Marlene Dietrich. 

• Blue Velvet

  Isabella Rossellini. 

• Breaking the Waves

  Emily Watson. 

...plus 82 more. View the full list on Letterboxd.

1. Blue Jasmine
2. Spring Breakers
3. 12 Years a Slave
4. Nebraska
5. The Wolf of Wall Street
6. The Spectacular Now
7. Her
8. Before Midnight
9. Fruitvale Station
10. The Wind Rises

...plus 5 more. View the full list on Letterboxd.

I participated in a film genre poll by Sammy Juliano.

Whether they are explicit or implicit, these films focus on queer characters or the tension between them in a heteronormative society.

(A film per director).

1. The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert
2. All About My Mother
3. Beau Travail
4. Big Eden
5. The Boys in the Band
6. Capote
7. Challengers
8. The Crying Game
9. Desert Hearts
10. Dog Day Afternoon

...plus 20 more. View the full list on Letterboxd.

1. Night of the Living Dead
2. Dawn of the Dead
3. Day of the Dead
4. Creepshow
5. Martin
6. Land of the Dead
7. Knightriders
8. The Crazies
9. Two Evil Eyes
10. Monkey Shines

...plus 3 more. View the full list on Letterboxd.

1. Stalker
2. The Sacrifice
3. Andrei Rublev
4. Solaris
5. Mirror
6. Ivan's Childhood

1. Jane B. by Agnès V.
2. Vagabond
3. The Beaches of Agnès
4. Le Bonheur
5. Cléo from 5 to 7
6. Faces Places
7. The Gleaners and I
8. Uncle Yanco
9. Black Panthers
10. Along the Coast

...plus 1 more. View the full list on Letterboxd.

Based on memory and the previously revisited.

1. Husbands and Wives
2. Hannah and Her Sisters
3. Blue Jasmine
4. Crimes and Misdemeanors
5. Annie Hall
6. Love and Death
7. Midnight in Paris
8. The Purple Rose of Cairo
9. Radio Days
10. Mighty Aphrodite

...plus 22 more. View the full list on Letterboxd.

Mostly rough.

1. Comedy Central Roast of Rob Lowe

   Not all of it works, but this is the funniest of Comedy Central roasts I have seen so far. There are clever jokes against Lowe, but Ann Coulter receives the funniest and most biting burns in the show. 

2. Comedy Central Roast of Bruce Willis

   Demi Moore is the highlight of the roast, but Edward Norton and Jeff Ross are decent in their roasts from what I . 
   

3. Comedy Central Roast of Alec Baldwin

   It is ironic how Ireland Baldwin is arguably the funniest and most biting of the people here since she is not a part of the deus. There are decent laughs, but no one stands out significantly.
   

4. The N.Y. Friars Club Roast of Chevy Chase

   I mainly Marc Maron’s set, and Chevy Chase being annoyed——which is good.

5. Comedy Central Roast of Justin Bieber

   Pete Davidson is the funniest of the group. Otherwise, there are only a couple of laughs here and there. 

6. Comedy Central Roast of Charlie Sheen

   Some decent laughs here and there, but it was mostly a reminder of how Charlie Sheen was once relevant in our society. 

7. Comedy Central Roast of David Hasselhoff

   Much of what is joked about here is so bad (particularly about Pamela Anderson’s breasts) that only an occasional joke by Seth MacFarlane and David Hasselhoff’s sex appeal could help. 
   

8. Comedy Central Roast of William Shatner

   It reminded me of how much I cannot stand Andy Dick. There are some other talented people here, but they have done better work elsewhere in my opinion. One star for Betty White! 

9. Comedy Central Roast of Donald Trump

   I liked how they (specifically Seth MacFarlane) made fun of The Situation after his set. Otherwise, this artifact is a presentiment of the Hell that would arise five years later. 
   

10. Comedy Central Roast of Pamela Anderson

    The worst I have seen frankly. An unbearable sit that felt like three hours of deafening noise. I feel bad for Pamela Anderson and Bea Arthur. 

1. The Substance
2. The Brutalist
3. Nickel Boys
4. Dune: Part Two
5. A Complete Unknown
6. Wicked
7. Conclave
8. I'm Still Here
9. Anora
10. Emilia Pérez

1. To Live and Die in L.A.
2. Sorcerer
3. The Exorcist
4. The Boys in the Band
5. Killer Joe
6. The French Connection
7. Bug
8. Blue Chips
9. 12 Angry Men
10. The Hunted

...plus 5 more. View the full list on Letterboxd.

I participated in a film genre poll by Sammy Juliano.

Some of these choices will likely indicate how I am not religious. 😂

• Andrei Rublev
• Au Hasard Balthazar
• Bad Lieutenant
• Benedetta
• Breaking the Waves
• The Brutalist
• Carrie
• Cries and Whispers
• Crimes and Misdemeanors
• Defending Your Life

...plus 18 more. View the full list on Letterboxd.

I will update this occasionally when I recall or watch a film. I am getting sentimental in my old age——twenty-three. 

Plus, a miniseries and a television series.

• 12 Years a Slave
• 3-Iron
• The 400 Blows
• Aftersun
• A.I. Artificial Intelligence
• All About My Mother
• All of Us Strangers
• Black Bird
• The Boy and the Heron
• Brokeback Mountain

...plus 76 more. View the full list on Letterboxd.

1. Fish Tank
2. American Honey
3. Wasp
4. Wuthering Heights
5. Cow
6. Bird

With the exclusion of 2022 movies, here is a list of first-time viewings during the year. Many films have reviews, while others have notes. The notes were cases where I was too busy to write a review about the features.

If you have questions about any films, let me know in the comment section.  Also, you may complain about some minority reports if you consider your viewpoint objective. Good luck!

• 13 Going on 30
• 13 Hours: The Secret Soldiers of Benghazi
• 24 Hour Party People
• 3-Iron
• 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days
• 45 Years
• Abducted in Plain Sight
• After Life
• All That Heaven Allows
• Along the Coast

  Lovely footage of southern , but I doubt I will much from this short film (more like a travelogue).

...plus 427 more. View the full list on Letterboxd.

1. Naked
2. Vera Drake
3. Secrets & Lies
4. Hard Truths
5. Another Year
6. Topsy-Turvy
7. Happy-Go-Lucky
8. High Hopes
9. Life Is Sweet
10. All or Nothing

...plus 3 more. View the full list on Letterboxd.

Before I create a favorite list for 2024, here are my twenty-five favorite films from the decade so far. Some films have resonated more than I would have expected at the time, and the medium is certainly not dead. 

(In alphabetical order).

Best Picture: The Holdovers. 
Best Leading Actor: Adrien Brody for The Brutalist. 
Best Leading Actress: Demi Moore for The Substance. 
Best ing Actor: Dominic Sessa for The Holdovers.
Best ing Actress: Lily Gladstone for Killers of the Flower Moon.

• Aftersun
• Anatomy of a Fall
• Bad Luck Banging or Loony Porn
• The Beast
• The Boy and the Heron
• The Brutalist
• Challengers
• C'mon C'mon
• Drive My Car
• First Cow

...plus 15 more. View the full list on Letterboxd.

My favorite living filmmaker.

Average Rating: 4.9.

1. All About My Mother
2. Pain and Glory
3. Law of Desire
4. Broken Embraces
5. Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown
6. Bad Education
7. Volver
8. Talk to Her
9. Parallel Mothers
10. Julieta

...plus 7 more. View the full list on Letterboxd.

1. Lawrence of Arabia
2. Brief Encounter
3. The Bridge on the River Kwai
4. Oliver Twist
5. A age to India
6. Doctor Zhivago
7. Ryan's Daughter
8. Summertime
9. Great Expectations

I am not sure if some of these would technically qualify, but Letterboxd counts them. Each film is an exploration of a relationship at different points. I would have included more films (such as History is Made at Night and Something Wild), but these twenty-five choices will do. 

I participated in a film genre poll by Sammy Juliano.

(In alphabetical order).

• Belle de Jour
• Blue Velvet
• A Brighter Summer Day
• Chungking Express
• Days of Heaven
• Floating Clouds
• Harold and Maude
• The Heiress
• Husbands and Wives
• The Lady Eve

...plus 15 more. View the full list on Letterboxd.

For those who hate subtitles...

Also, twenty-five titles? A reasonable number.

1. Nashville
2. Harold and Maude
3. The Heiress
4. River's Edge
5. Chinatown
6. Midnight Cowboy
7. Blue Velvet
8. Make Way for Tomorrow
9. Psycho
10. A Woman Under the Influence

...plus 15 more. View the full list on Letterboxd.

1. Do the Right Thing
2. 4 Little Girls
3. He Got Game
4. Chi-Raq
5. Malcolm X
6. Da 5 Bloods
7. BlacKkKlansman
8. The Original Kings of Comedy
9. Clockers
10. She's Gotta Have It

...plus 6 more. View the full list on Letterboxd.

Putting 2024 releases aside, I watched 150 films for the first time. There will be a video ranking of my favorites on Thursday. 

(In alphabetical order).

• 52 Pick-Up
• 80 for Brady
• 8 Million Ways to Die
• Accattone
• Adam Resurrected
• The Addiction
• Alice in the Cities
• Amour
• Ashes of Time
• Away from Her

...plus 140 more. View the full list on Letterboxd.

1. Jules and Jim
2. The 400 Blows
3. Day for Night
4. Shoot the Piano Player
5. Stolen Kisses
6. The Wild Child
7. Mississippi Mermaid
8. The Last Metro
9. Bed and Board
10. Fahrenheit 451

...plus 6 more. View the full list on Letterboxd.

I am curious to revisit some of these, even though I have fond memories.

Rating: 4.8.

1. The Searchers
2. The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance
3. My Darling Clementine
4. Fort Apache
5. They Were Expendable
6. Stagecoach
7. The Quiet Man
8. The Sun Shines Bright
9. The Long Voyage Home
10. How Green Was My Valley

...plus 5 more. View the full list on Letterboxd.

1. The Landlord
2. Zabriskie Point
3. Tristana
4. Women in Love
5. The Boys in the Band
6. Watermelon Man
7. Husbands
8. Five Easy Pieces
9. M*A*S*H
10. My Night at Maud's

I participated in a film genre poll by Sammy Juliano. 

These films deal implicitly or explicitly with war. The genre has become repetitive and lost its emotional weight due to artists treating war as a competition aesthetically to prove how stylish they can make their battles rather than confronting the dehumanization. Hal Ashby’s Coming Home is always on my mind, but I also think highly of Casualties of War (an underrated DePalma masterpiece). 

(In alphabetical order).

• The Ascent
• Au Revoir les Enfants
• The Best Years of Our Lives
• Casualties of War
• Coming Home
• Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb
• Forbidden Games
• Gallipoli
• Grave of the Fireflies
• The Great Dictator

...plus 10 more. View the full list on Letterboxd.

I participated in a film genre poll by Sammy Juliano.

I would say this is an eclectic list of great films, but you can be the judge of that. Of all the films in this list, A.I. is the peak of the genre in my opinion. 

(In alphabetical order)

• 2001: A Space Odyssey
• A.I. Artificial Intelligence
• Akira
• Alien
• Alphaville
• The Beast
• Creature from the Black Lagoon
• The Empire Strikes Back
• Fantastic Planet
• The Fountain

...plus 15 more. View the full list on Letterboxd.

I participated in a film genre poll by Sammy Juliano.

Whether textual or subtextual, these films respond to the political ethos of their eras and governments.

(In alphabetical order)

• Blow Out
• Chinatown
• Citizen Kane
• The Conformist
• The Devil, Probably
• Do the Right Thing
• Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb
• Election
• The Leopard
• Metropolis

...plus 10 more. View the full list on Letterboxd.