I find it hard to go back to some of Nolan's previous films these days, as I find some of his filmmaking quirks - particularly his propulsive editing style and fondness for brute-force loudness - to be frustrating and even exhausting. I think Dunkirk addressed some of that with its temporal trickery, but Tenet - perhaps his worst film for a plethora of reasons - was maybe the worst offender yet.
Which is important context, as I think it's exactly that particular style - flaws and all - that makes Oppenheimer work. Indeed, a time-hopping biopic is if anything the perfect fit for Nolan's restless storytelling style. Here, it drives forward and jumps from scene to scene with relentless forward momentum, only really slowing down for some killer extended scenes where everything comes together or simmering tension is allowed to boil over and erupt. Matched with the clever choice to switch between black & white and colour to illustrate the film's two key perspectives, this feels like Nolan turning what has been a filmmaking weakness of his into a strength. The sparing use of expressionistic effects shot is also very well done - beautiful images often staying on screen for just a second as a note of emphasis or warning.
Ditto his tendency to 'go loud'. This is another film seemingly designed to blow the speakers off, but it does so in a much more elegant way. The dialogue is suitably snappy and speedy, the ideas allowed to overwhelm and overlap. Göransson's soundtrack builds and builds and builds, only for Nolan to suddenly drain sequences of sound completely. The interplay between noise and silence is tremendously well done, and a reminder that good cinematic sound design is often defined by restrained use of total quiet. Oh, and the recurring use of foot-stomping, building up to maybe the film's best scene, is magnificent.
The film is admirably blunt about the moral contradictions of the story: this is not afraid to call out the unspeakable evil that is the use of the nuclear bomb (the film's biggest villain is almost certainly Harry S Truman), while also embracing the rush of scientific discovery and accomplishment. Of course, the film ultimately is very much in the 'existential dread' camp, but it certainly does get at the humanity behind these momentous and some might say apocalyptic decisions.
Murphy is of course great, as are most of the ensemble, even those who don't really have much time to do anything. I was almost inclined to say Emily Blunt is underused here, but she has one scene that's so good later on that you're inclined to almost retrospectively forgive Nolan for keeping her on the bench up to that point.
I can see some of the structural decisions turning people off. This is a long film that becomes almost a second film at the two-hour mark. It takes a while to settle back in, and an already talky film grows even talkier at that point. I think the destination is ultimately worth a somewhat jarring swerve to get there - but it's definitely a big ask at a point when some audience members may be thinking about when they'll get to pee. Also, Nolan doesn't always do subtle - there are moments here it's fair to say are very, very on the nose.
But overall, I liked it a whole lot - in many ways, the most accomplished and consistent film Nolan has made since a lot earlier in his career. It is, in some ways, an unusual fit for a summer blockbuster - there are a lot of close-ups of people talking in rooms here. But that stuff can look as good as any big action setpiece, and in a way it's refreshing to see Nolan use a big cinematic canvas to tell a story that shifts so seamlessly between the historically monumental and the brutal intimacy of the people making those decisions.
Terrific fun and easily the best communal cinema experience since seeing Glass Onion in a full-house.
It's a giddy, goofy film first and foremost - overflowing with jokes, self-awareness and playfulness. It's a reminder of some of the big broad comedies of the 90s and technicolour musicals of the 50s and 60s, but really its well of cinematic references run a lot deeper. Some very overt references and homages to some unexpected (and named) films throughout, but it's also drawing on films as diverse as Toy Story, Hausu, The Brady Bunch Movie, Playtime and more in the way it presents itself. All bathed in garish pink, of course - it shouldn't be any other way.
But yes: incredibly funny film. So many great laugh lines and visual gags (and even maybe the funniest narrator intrusion I've seen in a film), and that's why I'd definitely recommend trying to see it at a busy screening if at all possible. Gerwig is a fantastic comedic director and writer, and her cast is packed with great comedic performances. Robbie is in some ways the most grounded and emotionally-demanding performance of the lot, but she gets plenty of moments to shine as a comedic actor though. But it's definitely Gosling who gets the really juicy stuff here - his Ken is a delightful idiot, especially in the second half of the film as he learns about his bizarre idiot-version of the 'patriarchy'. It might be too broad to go the distance, but really it's an award-worthy performance IMO.
It's definitely 'a Greta Gerwig film', rising above Mattel's cynical motivations to craft something that feels like a distinct and worthy film in a short but increasingly impressive filmography. From her sheer efficacy in being able to do a lot in a very short scene to her wonderful work with ensemble casts, she's a brilliant filmmaker. You know when people give out about a director's voice being drowned out in a Marvel movie? This is a good example of why a corporate blockbuster need not just be a 'for hire' gig.
There is a satisfying emotional core here, and the film almost gleefully embraces the complex social status of the Barbie doll and gender stereotypes - this is relentless in referencing, mocking and deconstructing it all. And of course it reflects its own status as a corporate product that's as much brand management as auteur cinema. But while it certainly has a point-of-view, the film is so endlessly good fun and good-natured and all-consuming in its satirical targets.
Will it hold up as well as Lady Bird or Little Women on repeat watch? Probably not. The film is so restless and busy with ideas some definitely don't land, and of course it can't overcome some of its own inherent contradictions. But I can only repeat that I had a magnificent time. And seeing it with a delighted crowd, laughing along with seemingly boundless enthusiasm, reminded me of that particular magic of the sold-out cinema experience. Sometimes all you need is that one first screening with a game crowd for a film to leave a long-lasting impression.
I love how almost every composition, every whip pan, and every aspect ratio change is a little joke or visual pun or running gag. No filmmaker since Tati has made such wonderful comedy out of cinematic language itself. And this is really bloody funny at times, including what may be, IMO the funniest sequence in the Anderson filmography (you'll know the one when you see it). Also, I adore the setting and how unabashedly Anderson embraces the theatricality of the piece - right up to framing it all as a 'play within a film'.
Was initially not sure about the framing story here, but I think as it progresses, it becomes a genuinely moving and uplifting story about the collaborative nature of art and storytelling and how something special can emerge out of all these people coming together almost by fluke. It also feels like a post-pandemic movie, in the sense of quarantine being such a central part of the 'a-plot', but also that sense of bringing all these amazing people together to just, well, make something. There's also a lot of heart in that 'a-plot' - it's as utterly deadpan and surface-level chilly as any Anderson film, but as it goes on it becomes full of burgeoning romance, surprising kinships, and even a look at people overcoming grief. If you thought French Dispatch was too clinical, there's probably more for you here.
That said, I'm not sure it'll have the extra-wide appeal of Grand Budapest, and it's an insular-looking film in some ways - there's certainly a sense of Anderson looking at and reflecting on his own creative process, and going deeper than ever on his stylistic eccentricities (it's a cliche to say it's the most Wes Anderson Wes Anderson has ever been... but the man only ever doubles down). There's a lot of film here to chew on, and it's a movie where some a-listers and brilliant character actors get only a scene (maybe even a shot) or two. Like every Anderson film, there's the sense that a rewatch is needed to full process the sheer volume of imagery and gags and - in this case - themes on display. But I for one couldn't get enough of it, and I'd easily put it in my top 3-5 Anderson joints.
When Eisenstein's clangour gets to be too much for me, Pudovkin's varied tonal palette -- always rooted in a quiet humanism that seems focused on tiny, tiny humans in an enormous and not very welcoming landscape -- seems like just the thing.
I don't think there was another director in silent Hollywood whose style was so immediately recognizable as von Stroheim's; the novelistic wealth of narrative detail, the grotesque elements around the edges of the diegesis complicating the simplistic wish-fulfilment/escapism that more straightforward entertainers aimed for, the associative-editing choices based on an idiosyncratic sense of what might be interesting or important at any give time... Erich von S and no-one else.
Lean and just the right amount of mean. A masterclass in shadow and suggestion - a potentially ridiculous premise is sold by much of the menace lurking just out of frame or obscured by darkness.
Shults does an impressive job at capturing the spiralling chaos of a family gathering: from the friendly, loud banter to a devastating emotional reckoning. Some great free-flowing camerawork and editing hammers it all home, although some incredible close-ups and a perfectly judged aspect ratio switch at key moments add some extra energy.
Occasionally does resemble an extended short - which it is - but a raw, uncomfortable watch on the whole
This has some magnificent sequences, but it's not the revelation to me that Strike or Ivan P1 were. Leaning a little too hard on the associative editing with constant insert shots of iconic statues that represent something (or other) that may be relevant to the onscreen action?
Also, it's a little wearying to be shouted at for two hours.
A case study in how a new perspective can beautifully enliven a familiar tale. A work fascinated by its characters, and always does right by them without glossing over their flaws. Bright, soothing and compassionate - simply lovely.
How I wish this was something released in cinemas! That magnificent sound work needs an auditorium-sized surround sound system to really do it justice. Thankfully it still works at home - been a while since a film so dramatically and relentlessly explores sound and silence, and with the goal of putting the viewer inside a characters’ traumatic experience.
The rest of the film is in some ways a conventional indie drama - not in a particularly bad way, but certainly it doesn’t quite have the same visual imagination as it does sound design. Nonetheless, it’s a genuinely tender and compassionate drama with an incredibly committed central performance. Some of the steps along the way may be predictable, but it all comes together for a rich and earned ending that felt natural and true to the character. As a drama it’s absolutely solid, but the commitment to adding that extra sensory layer allows it to rise above.
First things first, though: Carey Mulligan is extraordinary in it. She just has an absolutely perfect grasp on what's happening, even when the rest of the film doesn't.
Alas, there are plenty of moments when the film gets awkwardly lost in what it's trying to do. There's absolutely a film out there that can be a cheeky topical satire, study of trauma and playful revenge film all at once. But the tone often feels wrong here, stumbling between different registers and moods without fully landing the jumps.
The last act is where it all kind of falls apart.
The film undermines its own points with an ending that delivers one last twist of the knife to unconvincing effect. When Cassandra gets her revenge from beyond the grave, it felt like a hollow victory. Two women are dead - the film bizarrely undercuts that tragedy by literally ending with a winky emoji. When Cassandra's killed, it's a shocking moment where it seems as if these men will once again avoid repercussions - that's a bold, provocative idea. But it resorts to a more clichéd revenge ending that feels lazy despite its odd setup.
It's a shame things don't come together, because there's lots to like. As said, Mulligan is astoundingly good here and deserving of all the accolades. Fennell is an obviously promising director, and the vibrant colour palette and magnificent costume work are a joy to behold. There's a lot of really good scenes, too:
the first Cassandra drops her act; the dance scene; the squirmy scene in the Dean's office.
It's a film I definitely admired for trying to speak bluntly about tricky subject matter - society's attitudes towards rape and consent will always be worthy of critique and examination. But PYW can't quite navigate the thorny maze it puts itself in - it addresses its subject matter head-on, but can't wrap that into a coherent narrative. A valiant effort that takes some big swings, but a rather unsatisfactory film in the end.
Had been primed to expect some misery/poverty porn, but honestly don’t think it fits into that category. There’s a strong sense of defiance and even satisfaction from a lot of the people in the film. Sure they have tough moments and in many ways have been left behind by society, but there’s also a sense that they’ve chosen this nomadic life which is a strong counterpoint. It doesn’t wallow in misery, instead giving us an unsentimental look at the highs and lows of life on the road. The ‘it’s pro-Amazon!’ arguments strike me as unconvincing after watching the film - Zhao shows how these corporate jobs are a part of these characters’ lives, while also touching on the wreckage corporate America leaves in its wake. But I think a polemic is not the film she’s trying to make here; she’s much more concerned with the rhythms of these people’s everyday lives.
The American landscapes look great here obviously, but in a way that I think serves the point above. These are often frosty, desolate locations... but by the same token they’re also often beautiful and enticing. The cinematography doesn’t have the sheer lyricism of say a Terrence Malick film, but it does split the difference between that and documentary-style realism to frequently fetching effect. There’s a sequence of McDormand wandering through a house at the end which uses shadow and light alone to tell you everything you need to know about a big decision she’s about to make.
That said, there are moments when the style doesn’t quite gel together. I really admire the film giving the real life nomads so much space - indeed, the most impressive thing about McDormand’s performance is how she tones it all the way down to give them space while also hinting at her character’s own hopes, traumas and history. But there can be a hint of sterility to Zhao’s style at time, albeit one bit unique to this film: it’s something that crops up a bit in rural American dramas featuring non-actors. Still, it works overall, but sometimes in a way that left me at a remove of sorts. The film is quite tame and mild-mannered - sometimes to its benefit, sometimes to its detriment. It lacks the punch of Varda’s Vagabond - a great film that covers fairly similar ground.
Impressed on the whole, like I was with The Rider a few years back. There’s a few films I’d probably have liked to see sweep the awards season above or at least alongside this, mainly because I think Never Rarely Sometimes Always and First Cow were criminally overlooked. But certainly happy to see Zhao rise rapidly up the ranks: she’s made another confident, thoughtful film here and I hope against hope some of that can come through as she gets caught up in the MCU machine.
Certainly unique. The extremely apt title tells you a whole lot about what you need to know. The film is a freewheeling examination of 'intolerance' through the ages. There's four narratives running in parallel: one recounting the fall of Babylon, another retelling the crucifixion of Christ, a third set in 16th century France and focusing on the St Bartholomew's Day Massacre, and finally a 'modern day' (modern in 1916, anyway) tale about a loving couple constantly torn apart by cruel, unthinking authorities. Linked together through title cards, a recurring shot of an 'eternal' mother rocking a cradle and (more interestingly) editing, the stories reverberate with each other over the course of nearly three and a half hours. With the narrative crisscrossing and era-hopping near constantly, it resembles Cloud Atlas more than anything, albeit predating it by the guts of a century.
Ostensibly giving equal weight to the quartet of stories, the reality is only the modern and Babylonian stories truly matter here. The Galilean section might tie closely with the film's deeply Christian ideology and obsession with exploring the violent effects of religious intolerance, but it comes across as too obvious and even a little condescending in execution. The French story, meanwhile, is basically a glorified afterthought. Again, the thematic bridge is there, but it adds little of note, interrupting the more intriguing stories at almost random intervals. Generally speaking, the film is a wild melodrama that is an awfully long-winded way of presenting a pretty simplistic message. At times, especially in a borderline farcical epilogue featuring a chorus of angels forcing warring soldiers to drop their weapons, it all seems hopelessly, almost pretentiously naive in its good-intentioned but amateurishly straightforward message of Christian peace and understanding. Subtle Intolerance ain't.
On their own terms, however, the two core stories are actually quite endearing. Now, make no mistake, the first hour (or even hour and a half) is rough: establishing the various timelines and characters, it's a challenge to adapt to the film's unusual pacing, scope and early cinematic language. As shallow as it may sound, things improve significantly with a magnificent battle scene that acts as the centrepiece of the Babylon section. We can never forget this film was produced in 1916, so the sheer scale of it all - with its towering sets (later becoming an iconic Hollywood landmark), waves of extras and elaborate costumes - is still flabbergasting. As the film approaches its 100th birthday, the spectacle still impresses - the battle of Babylon being a notable highlight, but the stellar production design wows throughout. Knowing that it was all done with primitive technology makes it all the more remarkable - a trick CGI spectacles can simply never hope to repeat. It's also surprisingly visceral battle sequence, including more decapitations than I would have expected.
The modern story, meanwhile, is a slowburner but ultimately justifies the slow burn. After rambling around for an hour or so, it snaps into focus and develops as a melodramatic romance / legal thriller / anti-authority rant,. It's all pretty straightforward stuff, but handled well enough and entertaining. Things really pick up in the final hour (or 'Act II') when it all turns into a frantic race against the clock to stop an imminent execution. It is, like so much of Intolerance, straightforward and primitive, but entertainingly so. The happy ending - in which soul mates are reunited, unlike those poor Babylonian citizens so cruelly mowed down - feels hard-won, and a shame it's soured by the aforementioned obnoxious epilogue.
This extended chase sequence also illustrates the film's single most important innovation: its editing. As the film crosscuts more frantically, it links the stories in increasingly more compelling ways. This not only lends the film a momentum lacking in some of its more laborious stretches, but also shows themes and characters linked not through excessively overwritten title cards (and some of the very literal title cards on offer here are rather laughable: "Now, how shall we find this Christly example followed in our story of today?" is a personal favourite) but through cinematic form. Now, as previously stated, a lot of these ideas are simplistic to a fault, but as an early experiment in editing it's a deeply important one, and the kind of thing directors like Sergei Eisenstein would develop further and in the process change the way cinema worked forever. Although 'of its time' in so, so many ways, technically it's an astonishing achievement (Griffith also preempts Mizoguchi with his penchant of presenting rare but powerful close-ups).
Longer than even some of the more grueling modern epics, Intolerance will test the patience of many modern viewers, even those familiar with the aesthetics and language of silent cinema. It comes across like a sermon, a lecture, a class on the bleeding obvious, but also proves a valuable lesson in the language of cinema that can still educate us modern cinephiles. It's epic. It's dull. It's beautifully, jaw-droppingly extravagant. It's aged terribly. It's an ambitious failure and successful experiment. It's all these contradictory things at once. Say what you will about the film and its creator, but Intolerance at the very least is quite unlike anything else, and for all its deep-rooted flaws is still worthy of our attention. Just probably not more than once
Safe to say it isn't exactly Orson Welles' magnum opus, and the hatchet job the studio did with it is all too obvious (especially during the opening minutes). The plot is nonsense at times, if rather effective once it gets going. Welles also offers a spectacularly dodgy Irish accent. Nonetheless, it is a thoroughly enjoyable and idiosyncratic effort despite its clearly rough edges. Welles' singular visual style remains, if not as pronounced as some of his others works - all deep focus and deeper shadows. And there's the ending - a tour de force sequence, capturing a confrontation in a fairground that has enough visual energy to fuel an entire film on its own
Comments 1 - 18 of 18
Movie comment on Oppenheimer
MrW
I find it hard to go back to some of Nolan's previous films these days, as I find some of his filmmaking quirks - particularly his propulsive editing style and fondness for brute-force loudness - to be frustrating and even exhausting. I think Dunkirk addressed some of that with its temporal trickery, but Tenet - perhaps his worst film for a plethora of reasons - was maybe the worst offender yet.Which is important context, as I think it's exactly that particular style - flaws and all - that makes Oppenheimer work. Indeed, a time-hopping biopic is if anything the perfect fit for Nolan's restless storytelling style. Here, it drives forward and jumps from scene to scene with relentless forward momentum, only really slowing down for some killer extended scenes where everything comes together or simmering tension is allowed to boil over and erupt. Matched with the clever choice to switch between black & white and colour to illustrate the film's two key perspectives, this feels like Nolan turning what has been a filmmaking weakness of his into a strength. The sparing use of expressionistic effects shot is also very well done - beautiful images often staying on screen for just a second as a note of emphasis or warning.
Ditto his tendency to 'go loud'. This is another film seemingly designed to blow the speakers off, but it does so in a much more elegant way. The dialogue is suitably snappy and speedy, the ideas allowed to overwhelm and overlap. Göransson's soundtrack builds and builds and builds, only for Nolan to suddenly drain sequences of sound completely. The interplay between noise and silence is tremendously well done, and a reminder that good cinematic sound design is often defined by restrained use of total quiet. Oh, and the recurring use of foot-stomping, building up to maybe the film's best scene, is magnificent.
The film is admirably blunt about the moral contradictions of the story: this is not afraid to call out the unspeakable evil that is the use of the nuclear bomb (the film's biggest villain is almost certainly Harry S Truman), while also embracing the rush of scientific discovery and accomplishment. Of course, the film ultimately is very much in the 'existential dread' camp, but it certainly does get at the humanity behind these momentous and some might say apocalyptic decisions.
Murphy is of course great, as are most of the ensemble, even those who don't really have much time to do anything. I was almost inclined to say Emily Blunt is underused here, but she has one scene that's so good later on that you're inclined to almost retrospectively forgive Nolan for keeping her on the bench up to that point.
I can see some of the structural decisions turning people off. This is a long film that becomes almost a second film at the two-hour mark. It takes a while to settle back in, and an already talky film grows even talkier at that point. I think the destination is ultimately worth a somewhat jarring swerve to get there - but it's definitely a big ask at a point when some audience members may be thinking about when they'll get to pee. Also, Nolan doesn't always do subtle - there are moments here it's fair to say are very, very on the nose.
But overall, I liked it a whole lot - in many ways, the most accomplished and consistent film Nolan has made since a lot earlier in his career. It is, in some ways, an unusual fit for a summer blockbuster - there are a lot of close-ups of people talking in rooms here. But that stuff can look as good as any big action setpiece, and in a way it's refreshing to see Nolan use a big cinematic canvas to tell a story that shifts so seamlessly between the historically monumental and the brutal intimacy of the people making those decisions.
Movie comment on Barbie
MrW
Terrific fun and easily the best communal cinema experience since seeing Glass Onion in a full-house.It's a giddy, goofy film first and foremost - overflowing with jokes, self-awareness and playfulness. It's a reminder of some of the big broad comedies of the 90s and technicolour musicals of the 50s and 60s, but really its well of cinematic references run a lot deeper. Some very overt references and homages to some unexpected (and named) films throughout, but it's also drawing on films as diverse as Toy Story, Hausu, The Brady Bunch Movie, Playtime and more in the way it presents itself. All bathed in garish pink, of course - it shouldn't be any other way.
But yes: incredibly funny film. So many great laugh lines and visual gags (and even maybe the funniest narrator intrusion I've seen in a film), and that's why I'd definitely recommend trying to see it at a busy screening if at all possible. Gerwig is a fantastic comedic director and writer, and her cast is packed with great comedic performances. Robbie is in some ways the most grounded and emotionally-demanding performance of the lot, but she gets plenty of moments to shine as a comedic actor though. But it's definitely Gosling who gets the really juicy stuff here - his Ken is a delightful idiot, especially in the second half of the film as he learns about his bizarre idiot-version of the 'patriarchy'. It might be too broad to go the distance, but really it's an award-worthy performance IMO.
It's definitely 'a Greta Gerwig film', rising above Mattel's cynical motivations to craft something that feels like a distinct and worthy film in a short but increasingly impressive filmography. From her sheer efficacy in being able to do a lot in a very short scene to her wonderful work with ensemble casts, she's a brilliant filmmaker. You know when people give out about a director's voice being drowned out in a Marvel movie? This is a good example of why a corporate blockbuster need not just be a 'for hire' gig.
There is a satisfying emotional core here, and the film almost gleefully embraces the complex social status of the Barbie doll and gender stereotypes - this is relentless in referencing, mocking and deconstructing it all. And of course it reflects its own status as a corporate product that's as much brand management as auteur cinema. But while it certainly has a point-of-view, the film is so endlessly good fun and good-natured and all-consuming in its satirical targets.
Will it hold up as well as Lady Bird or Little Women on repeat watch? Probably not. The film is so restless and busy with ideas some definitely don't land, and of course it can't overcome some of its own inherent contradictions. But I can only repeat that I had a magnificent time. And seeing it with a delighted crowd, laughing along with seemingly boundless enthusiasm, reminded me of that particular magic of the sold-out cinema experience. Sometimes all you need is that one first screening with a game crowd for a film to leave a long-lasting impression.
Movie comment on Asteroid City
MrW
This is **** magnificent.I love how almost every composition, every whip pan, and every aspect ratio change is a little joke or visual pun or running gag. No filmmaker since Tati has made such wonderful comedy out of cinematic language itself. And this is really bloody funny at times, including what may be, IMO the funniest sequence in the Anderson filmography (you'll know the one when you see it). Also, I adore the setting and how unabashedly Anderson embraces the theatricality of the piece - right up to framing it all as a 'play within a film'.
Was initially not sure about the framing story here, but I think as it progresses, it becomes a genuinely moving and uplifting story about the collaborative nature of art and storytelling and how something special can emerge out of all these people coming together almost by fluke. It also feels like a post-pandemic movie, in the sense of quarantine being such a central part of the 'a-plot', but also that sense of bringing all these amazing people together to just, well, make something. There's also a lot of heart in that 'a-plot' - it's as utterly deadpan and surface-level chilly as any Anderson film, but as it goes on it becomes full of burgeoning romance, surprising kinships, and even a look at people overcoming grief. If you thought French Dispatch was too clinical, there's probably more for you here.
That said, I'm not sure it'll have the extra-wide appeal of Grand Budapest, and it's an insular-looking film in some ways - there's certainly a sense of Anderson looking at and reflecting on his own creative process, and going deeper than ever on his stylistic eccentricities (it's a cliche to say it's the most Wes Anderson Wes Anderson has ever been... but the man only ever doubles down). There's a lot of film here to chew on, and it's a movie where some a-listers and brilliant character actors get only a scene (maybe even a shot) or two. Like every Anderson film, there's the sense that a rewatch is needed to full process the sheer volume of imagery and gags and - in this case - themes on display. But I for one couldn't get enough of it, and I'd easily put it in my top 3-5 Anderson joints.
Toplist comment on 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die
MrW
Hopefully, the newer additions and removals will be updated here soon.Movie comment on The Life of Emile Zola
MrW
I swear that’s Alec Baldwin on the poster.Movie comment on Potomok Chingis-Khana
MrW
When Eisenstein's clangour gets to be too much for me, Pudovkin's varied tonal palette -- always rooted in a quiet humanism that seems focused on tiny, tiny humans in an enormous and not very welcoming landscape -- seems like just the thing.Movie comment on Foolish Wives
MrW
I don't think there was another director in silent Hollywood whose style was so immediately recognizable as von Stroheim's; the novelistic wealth of narrative detail, the grotesque elements around the edges of the diegesis complicating the simplistic wish-fulfilment/escapism that more straightforward entertainers aimed for, the associative-editing choices based on an idiosyncratic sense of what might be interesting or important at any give time... Erich von S and no-one else.Movie comment on Cat People
MrW
Lean and just the right amount of mean. A masterclass in shadow and suggestion - a potentially ridiculous premise is sold by much of the menace lurking just out of frame or obscured by darkness.Movie comment on Krisha
MrW
Shults does an impressive job at capturing the spiralling chaos of a family gathering: from the friendly, loud banter to a devastating emotional reckoning. Some great free-flowing camerawork and editing hammers it all home, although some incredible close-ups and a perfectly judged aspect ratio switch at key moments add some extra energy.Occasionally does resemble an extended short - which it is - but a raw, uncomfortable watch on the whole
Movie comment on Oktyabr
MrW
This has some magnificent sequences, but it's not the revelation to me that Strike or Ivan P1 were. Leaning a little too hard on the associative editing with constant insert shots of iconic statues that represent something (or other) that may be relevant to the onscreen action?Also, it's a little wearying to be shouted at for two hours.
Movie comment on Empire
MrW
The airplane was my favorite character.Movie comment on Minari
MrW
A case study in how a new perspective can beautifully enliven a familiar tale. A work fascinated by its characters, and always does right by them without glossing over their flaws. Bright, soothing and compassionate - simply lovely.Movie comment on Sound of Metal
MrW
How I wish this was something released in cinemas! That magnificent sound work needs an auditorium-sized surround sound system to really do it justice. Thankfully it still works at home - been a while since a film so dramatically and relentlessly explores sound and silence, and with the goal of putting the viewer inside a characters’ traumatic experience.The rest of the film is in some ways a conventional indie drama - not in a particularly bad way, but certainly it doesn’t quite have the same visual imagination as it does sound design. Nonetheless, it’s a genuinely tender and compassionate drama with an incredibly committed central performance. Some of the steps along the way may be predictable, but it all comes together for a rich and earned ending that felt natural and true to the character. As a drama it’s absolutely solid, but the commitment to adding that extra sensory layer allows it to rise above.
Movie comment on Promising Young Woman
MrW
Had a very mixed response to this one, alas.First things first, though: Carey Mulligan is extraordinary in it. She just has an absolutely perfect grasp on what's happening, even when the rest of the film doesn't.
Alas, there are plenty of moments when the film gets awkwardly lost in what it's trying to do. There's absolutely a film out there that can be a cheeky topical satire, study of trauma and playful revenge film all at once. But the tone often feels wrong here, stumbling between different registers and moods without fully landing the jumps.
The last act is where it all kind of falls apart.
It's a shame things don't come together, because there's lots to like. As said, Mulligan is astoundingly good here and deserving of all the accolades. Fennell is an obviously promising director, and the vibrant colour palette and magnificent costume work are a joy to behold. There's a lot of really good scenes, too:
It's a film I definitely admired for trying to speak bluntly about tricky subject matter - society's attitudes towards rape and consent will always be worthy of critique and examination. But PYW can't quite navigate the thorny maze it puts itself in - it addresses its subject matter head-on, but can't wrap that into a coherent narrative. A valiant effort that takes some big swings, but a rather unsatisfactory film in the end.
Movie comment on Nomadland
MrW
Liked it a lot, without quite loving it.Had been primed to expect some misery/poverty porn, but honestly don’t think it fits into that category. There’s a strong sense of defiance and even satisfaction from a lot of the people in the film. Sure they have tough moments and in many ways have been left behind by society, but there’s also a sense that they’ve chosen this nomadic life which is a strong counterpoint. It doesn’t wallow in misery, instead giving us an unsentimental look at the highs and lows of life on the road. The ‘it’s pro-Amazon!’ arguments strike me as unconvincing after watching the film - Zhao shows how these corporate jobs are a part of these characters’ lives, while also touching on the wreckage corporate America leaves in its wake. But I think a polemic is not the film she’s trying to make here; she’s much more concerned with the rhythms of these people’s everyday lives.
The American landscapes look great here obviously, but in a way that I think serves the point above. These are often frosty, desolate locations... but by the same token they’re also often beautiful and enticing. The cinematography doesn’t have the sheer lyricism of say a Terrence Malick film, but it does split the difference between that and documentary-style realism to frequently fetching effect. There’s a sequence of McDormand wandering through a house at the end which uses shadow and light alone to tell you everything you need to know about a big decision she’s about to make.
That said, there are moments when the style doesn’t quite gel together. I really admire the film giving the real life nomads so much space - indeed, the most impressive thing about McDormand’s performance is how she tones it all the way down to give them space while also hinting at her character’s own hopes, traumas and history. But there can be a hint of sterility to Zhao’s style at time, albeit one bit unique to this film: it’s something that crops up a bit in rural American dramas featuring non-actors. Still, it works overall, but sometimes in a way that left me at a remove of sorts. The film is quite tame and mild-mannered - sometimes to its benefit, sometimes to its detriment. It lacks the punch of Varda’s Vagabond - a great film that covers fairly similar ground.
Impressed on the whole, like I was with The Rider a few years back. There’s a few films I’d probably have liked to see sweep the awards season above or at least alongside this, mainly because I think Never Rarely Sometimes Always and First Cow were criminally overlooked. But certainly happy to see Zhao rise rapidly up the ranks: she’s made another confident, thoughtful film here and I hope against hope some of that can come through as she gets caught up in the MCU machine.
Movie comment on Intolerance: Love's Struggle Throughout the Ages
MrW
Certainly unique. The extremely apt title tells you a whole lot about what you need to know. The film is a freewheeling examination of 'intolerance' through the ages. There's four narratives running in parallel: one recounting the fall of Babylon, another retelling the crucifixion of Christ, a third set in 16th century France and focusing on the St Bartholomew's Day Massacre, and finally a 'modern day' (modern in 1916, anyway) tale about a loving couple constantly torn apart by cruel, unthinking authorities. Linked together through title cards, a recurring shot of an 'eternal' mother rocking a cradle and (more interestingly) editing, the stories reverberate with each other over the course of nearly three and a half hours. With the narrative crisscrossing and era-hopping near constantly, it resembles Cloud Atlas more than anything, albeit predating it by the guts of a century.Ostensibly giving equal weight to the quartet of stories, the reality is only the modern and Babylonian stories truly matter here. The Galilean section might tie closely with the film's deeply Christian ideology and obsession with exploring the violent effects of religious intolerance, but it comes across as too obvious and even a little condescending in execution. The French story, meanwhile, is basically a glorified afterthought. Again, the thematic bridge is there, but it adds little of note, interrupting the more intriguing stories at almost random intervals. Generally speaking, the film is a wild melodrama that is an awfully long-winded way of presenting a pretty simplistic message. At times, especially in a borderline farcical epilogue featuring a chorus of angels forcing warring soldiers to drop their weapons, it all seems hopelessly, almost pretentiously naive in its good-intentioned but amateurishly straightforward message of Christian peace and understanding. Subtle Intolerance ain't.
On their own terms, however, the two core stories are actually quite endearing. Now, make no mistake, the first hour (or even hour and a half) is rough: establishing the various timelines and characters, it's a challenge to adapt to the film's unusual pacing, scope and early cinematic language. As shallow as it may sound, things improve significantly with a magnificent battle scene that acts as the centrepiece of the Babylon section. We can never forget this film was produced in 1916, so the sheer scale of it all - with its towering sets (later becoming an iconic Hollywood landmark), waves of extras and elaborate costumes - is still flabbergasting. As the film approaches its 100th birthday, the spectacle still impresses - the battle of Babylon being a notable highlight, but the stellar production design wows throughout. Knowing that it was all done with primitive technology makes it all the more remarkable - a trick CGI spectacles can simply never hope to repeat. It's also surprisingly visceral battle sequence, including more decapitations than I would have expected.
The modern story, meanwhile, is a slowburner but ultimately justifies the slow burn. After rambling around for an hour or so, it snaps into focus and develops as a melodramatic romance / legal thriller / anti-authority rant,. It's all pretty straightforward stuff, but handled well enough and entertaining. Things really pick up in the final hour (or 'Act II') when it all turns into a frantic race against the clock to stop an imminent execution. It is, like so much of Intolerance, straightforward and primitive, but entertainingly so. The happy ending - in which soul mates are reunited, unlike those poor Babylonian citizens so cruelly mowed down - feels hard-won, and a shame it's soured by the aforementioned obnoxious epilogue.
This extended chase sequence also illustrates the film's single most important innovation: its editing. As the film crosscuts more frantically, it links the stories in increasingly more compelling ways. This not only lends the film a momentum lacking in some of its more laborious stretches, but also shows themes and characters linked not through excessively overwritten title cards (and some of the very literal title cards on offer here are rather laughable: "Now, how shall we find this Christly example followed in our story of today?" is a personal favourite) but through cinematic form. Now, as previously stated, a lot of these ideas are simplistic to a fault, but as an early experiment in editing it's a deeply important one, and the kind of thing directors like Sergei Eisenstein would develop further and in the process change the way cinema worked forever. Although 'of its time' in so, so many ways, technically it's an astonishing achievement (Griffith also preempts Mizoguchi with his penchant of presenting rare but powerful close-ups).
Longer than even some of the more grueling modern epics, Intolerance will test the patience of many modern viewers, even those familiar with the aesthetics and language of silent cinema. It comes across like a sermon, a lecture, a class on the bleeding obvious, but also proves a valuable lesson in the language of cinema that can still educate us modern cinephiles. It's epic. It's dull. It's beautifully, jaw-droppingly extravagant. It's aged terribly. It's an ambitious failure and successful experiment. It's all these contradictory things at once. Say what you will about the film and its creator, but Intolerance at the very least is quite unlike anything else, and for all its deep-rooted flaws is still worthy of our attention. Just probably not more than once
Movie comment on The Lady from Shanghai
MrW
Safe to say it isn't exactly Orson Welles' magnum opus, and the hatchet job the studio did with it is all too obvious (especially during the opening minutes). The plot is nonsense at times, if rather effective once it gets going. Welles also offers a spectacularly dodgy Irish accent. Nonetheless, it is a thoroughly enjoyable and idiosyncratic effort despite its clearly rough edges. Welles' singular visual style remains, if not as pronounced as some of his others works - all deep focus and deeper shadows. And there's the ending - a tour de force sequence, capturing a confrontation in a fairground that has enough visual energy to fuel an entire film on its ownMovie comment on The Day the Clown Cried
MrW
LOL at 7 people checking a film they likely haven't watched yet.