Asia, if you read this, I'm still waiting for you...
My only complain is Haley Atwell's hairdo, which is not only ugly, but never seems to move, even when she's in battle.
Fedorchenko explores the disappearing Merjan culture of Russia, its customs and burial rituals. Fascinating and beautifully executed, except for an ending that seems more like an afterthought and overshadows everything that came before. Still worth the watch.
I wanted to like this film (Guillermo del Toro counts himself as a fan), but as interesting as the subject matter is, the visual style is flat, and the story never really surprises you. Unfortunate.
I saw the severely truncated version, but it's still fascinating. A history of Eisenstein's plan to film Marx's book, with different actors reading excerpts from his notebook. Eisenstein's plan to use Joyce's Ulysses as the narrative underpinning ideas of capitalism was formally audacious. Like Jodorowsky's "Dune", it's one of those dream projects never to reach fruition. We can only imagine. Or watch this film!
Sure that wasn't directed by Michael Radford?
The real title of this film was Drivel. Gosling can't project the silent stoicism of Delon, and his cutesy smiles were cringe-inducing. The violence in this film was unnecessary, although obligatory considering the director. Refn does with nuance what the Gosling character did to that guy in the elevator -- smashes it in the face repeatedly until it's a bloody pulp. I just didn't buy the pretentious artifice of it.
The references made comparing this to Melville's Le Samourai are absolutely absurd. Melville's Le Samourai is subtle, refined, and philosophical. Drive is nothing but trash masquerading as arthouse cool--poorly written and pretentiously directed with clumsy characters, flimsy plot, excessive graphic violence, and an overall style which is mind-numbing.
The hardest part of living is not knowing you are going to die, it's watching all the people who make you happy die before you.
Well, I resent the comparisons -- as when any filmmaker uses long shots, minimal editing, and seems attuned to a more natural rhythm... they say, "Oh, he's like Tarkovsky." Bartas was not spared this connection. I only wanted to point out their differences. Comparing him to Demille might seem like comparing Obama to Hitler. I didn't mean for it to come across so reactionary. But, if you watch Bartas, you will see that nothing compares to the silence, the stillness, quiet waiting, devotional tone, of Bartas. There's something somewhat irrational in Bartas that I don't find in Tarkovsky, too. Perhaps its because I've watched Tarkovsky too many times, but I don't think the hermeticism of his images is all that cryptic. It's easy to spot certain visual motifs and themes that keep arising, but less so with Bartas.
Bartas has redefined cinema for me. As much as Bresson did, or Tarkovsky. Tarkovsky comes across as Cecil B. Demille compared to Bartas, excessive and even vulgar. Bartas is even more naturalistic, nuanced, poetic. One day his oeuvre will be considered a quintessential part of cinematic history.
This film should be watched twice. To me, that's the greatest compliment to pay any film, since most are easily consumed and dismissed after the first viewing. What I love are Kiarostami's close-up's, which put us in the position of mirrors as the characters study themselves, or the opposing characters during intense conversations. I've never seen close-ups like these. They reveal hidden truths within the actors.
