My favorite Ozu
“I cry a lot. My emotions are very close to my surface. I don't want to hold anything in so it festers and turns into pus - a pustule of emotion that explodes into a festering cesspool of depression.”
The man was an auteur unto himself. When I think of acting, I think of Grant.
Ozu and Hara pulled me out of the pitch black hole I've been falling into the last few weeks, and for that I'll be eternally grateful. I'm not sure I've ever had a richer emotional response to a film. Not one adjective, but all. Life. Ozu was the greatest.
The only music artist who evolves artistically while maintaining the spotlight in the 21st century worthy of Bowie, Dylan, and Prince. Yes.
Maybe it's just where my mind is right now, but I cant escape (hehe) the feelings of tragedy and melancholy in this film's bones. Underneath the entertaining genre exercise is a cold world where betrayal, death, and oppression are so ubiquitous that surprise isn't even a viable reaction. The most noble, honorable man is a self-described "asshole" who lets a woman be raped, who coldly observes death, who watches on with sad eyes. Plissken is both a brilliant genre riff and a tragic (anti)hero. Forget fucking Batman, Plissken is the hero the world deserves.
I have let this film fall to the side, forgetting about it. My rewatch reminds me that I should never think of this as anything less than a masterpiece. One of the essential, bitter rejections of Hollywood and the borderline-sadism of its artifice. As a genre fan, it behooves me to remember the lessons of this film. Also, it functions as one of the greatest 2000s tragic romances.
Carpenter's blood western, where the sand itself feels like dried plasma. The absolute cold world of the characters, the vicious, asshole nature of every single being, lends to this one of Carpenter's strongest atmospheres. His powerful Catholic-violence and hypocrisy subtext ultimately allow for a continuation of Prince of Darkness sub-themes, and lend resonance to his vision of an immoral West.
A 90s update of Seven Samurai. Remarkably. Dolph brings morality to the film as a whole. What could have been a pandering, condescending colonialist film a la Avatar becomes a watchable action film almost solely because of Dolph's moral guidance. The utter stupidity of the plot falters when he commands the screen. Again, the Dolph shines through.
Coheed is totally right in pointing out the supermarket seen. I consider it the most intelligent scene in cinema in depicting post-Vietnam veteran malaise/hopelessness. Otherwise, it is a Looney Toons variant on action cinema. Larger than life setpieces, an over-the-top Dolph, this is one of the 90s most entertaining films. Yet, one can already see the groundwork for the existential despair of John Hyams take on the franchise.
I honestly hate to say this, but this is shit (Dolph is director). Terribly paced, abysmal formally, and terribly written. Yet I recommend watching it. Why? Because, the Dolph. He, being one of the cinema's greatest performers, is ALWAYS worth watching. This may be one of his lower moments, but he still brings his "cool" (he is the coolest man since Cary Grant).
So goddamn terrible... and yet. Dolph provides an incredible portrait of a steadfast leader, stoically leading his group from disaster. Dolph as auteur (in that, no matter how bad the film, Dolph carries it into watchability).
Dolph vs. the color white ("it's all colors", whatever). An excuse for Dolph to wear shades is good in my book. Also, this allows for another play on Woo's favorite theme: duality. Here, the formal battle between black and white. Too much tv style, but Woo shines through in key moments. Dolph, meanwhile, proves yet again his singular genius, carrying his material on his back. The man can do anything.
Dolph as art. Whether he is awkwardly flirting or dispensing henchman in a hideous fashion, this is Dolph as Movie Star. I dubbed Dolph the "Classic Hollywood Star" of 80s action heroes, and this film proves it. He may be aging, but he's fully committed to this film both as star and director. Essentially a showcase for Dolph as a performer, and, frankly, there isn't enough of that in cinema.
There a lot of things I like about this film. The cast is exceptional, and deliver the dialogue with verve, and the humor is brisk and enjoyable. Chris Pine, in particular, is an extremely charismatic star, and in my opinion, could be Great. The popping colors on the blinding white Enterprise are also very pleasing. Alas, a great deal of it is committed to almost television-level form. The sterling setpieces scattered throughout remind one that Abrams has potential in the arena of cinema.
One of the most profound contemplations of death in the cinema. It's gradual shift into abstraction as the certainty of death grows in the minds of the characters and audience is unlike anything in Hollywood cinema. The wolve's howls in the night become a funeral dirge, their aural calling card becoming death itself. All that remains of a man's entire history is his wallet. A masterpiece.
People are free to have whatever fucking opinion they want. There's no need for the haters to get belligerent with someone who was touched by it and to high-handedly inform them that they are "exaggerating". How about you agree to disagree, or maybe you think there is only one way for an intelligent person to feel. Or maybe you are just so jaded and desensitized that you are emotionally dead inside and pick apart everything.
Thanks Juliet. And Rusticmachine, I'm sorry if my opinion differed from yours, but I found this to be an incredible film. The action wasn't the slightest bit cheesy (Carnahan can build a sequence expertly) and the drama was exceptionally powerful. Also, there are shots in here that are among the best in contemporary American cinema.
Juliet, do I really need to point out the contradiction in lambasting my opinion by saying"people are free to have whatever fucking opinion they want"? Anyway... of course he's entitled to an opinion. I didn't and won't attempt to deprive him of it either. But liking something is not the same as the reasons given for liking something. A universal proclamation like "the most profound contemplations of death in cinema" or "among the best in contemporary cinema" is not an opinion statement, it's a factual statement. Perhaps toning down the poetics, and simply saying 'I liked this film because... " or "the cinematography in this film is amongst the best I've seen". Those would be valid opinions unlike a ridiculous nonsense statement like saying "the greatest film which will ever grace this earth".
These are tiny blurbs, used to express my overall feelings for a film. Specifics are for discussions I have with people. Perhaps, yes, I am too effusive with my blurbs, but they are always written in a moment of passion, in this case having just returned from the theater. That said, I stand by my statements, and consider the film worthy of the specific praise. If I think a film is that great, I don't have to change my diction to suit another person's (in this case, you) preferred way of writing ('blurbing") about films on this site. I feel this was a tremendous film, I feel that passionately, and therefore I praised it. And I didn't "like" the film, I loved it. Not trying to be confrontational here man, but I don't particularly think you have the right to decide how people should write these blurbs.
I agree with Juliet to a point but these "blurbs" as you call them that we post here leave all of our opinions up for discussion and critique. Actually, I'm pretty sure that's the point. For instance, it is perfectly reasonable for me to feel and to share that I think that if you thought THE GREY was the most profound contemplation on death in cinema history, you need to watch more movies. Cuz THE GREY hit on every survival thriller cliche known to man, most of it's "contemplations" on death were ripped right out of THE EDGE and THE DESCENT. And it all revolved around something that almost NEVER fucking happens, and certainly not at the extent in which the movie portrays it. I think it would have been much more profound if it dealt with reality!
Man, I'm not using this number to brag, but I've seen over 2000 films, and The Grey is one of the most profound meditations on death I've seen from any of those films, including many by canonized art directors. If you're talking about something "that almost never fucking happens" meaning the wolf fight then I honestly think you missed the point of the entire film. Honestly, you didn't find Diaz's suicide and the drowning of the other man effective? I have no idea how someone could shrug those off, they;re beyond powerful. And no, the blurbs, in my opinion, aren't about discussion. Maybe I'll start a Grey thread on the forum, then we can all have a better outlet for the discussion. And The Descent wasn't about death like The Grey is. The Descent is more psychological, about repression. In The Grey, it's men pitted against something both definite and abstract. And hitting on screenplay level cliches isn't particularly troubling if the form of the film itself transcends and speaks for itself, which I think it does here.
Christ, I pissed some people off(none of whom understood my point). First off, your response was founded upon a misinterpretation of my argument. I never said you can't write the way you do, nor did I say you can't like the film, and finally I never said you aren't entitled to an opinion. I don't see,however, how you being entitled to an opinion somehow disallows me from critiqing the way in which you expressed it. Take note, your opinion about a film is NOT the same as the way in which you express your opinion. Simple concept, eh? "Not trying to be confrontational here man, but I don't particularly think you have the right to decide how people should write these blurbs."---So then who are you to tell me how I should respond to blurbs?etc.(such a simple point, that I won't pursue it any more) If you "stand by" your first comment, then tell me, what makes a film a "profound contemplation", or what is a "shift into abstraction"? If you don't think you were just writing vague gobbledygook, you should be able to tell me, clearly, what those phrases actually mean. I'm of the standpoint that our opinions of films are largely based upon emotional reaction and the viewers individual experience and understanding.Those things scarcely related to a strict logical interpretation of art. There is very little to be gained from dishing out verbose dissection's of films beyond finding people who agree, and those who don't. What about a film critic makes his opinion about film more weighty than anyone elses? Nothing, most of the time they spout garbage. Just state what your reaction was, allow for disagreement and agreement, engage in any interesting topics that arrise due to the subject matter, and most importantly, keep your 'artistic' opinions in perspective.
Man, the only person I think is getting upset here is you, I'm honestly not angry in the least. But seeing the wall of text that has formed under this one blurb, I have decided to start a thread on the film tonight when I get back from class. I will address, in specifics, what I think made the film profound. I do think the film earns the praise, but, as I said, that will be up for discussion. If you don't want to join in, don't. But honestly, I have no problem with people ecstatically "waxing poetic" on a film in these blurbs. They're blurbs. I think the forum was made for the actually describing, so I'll be there. But please, let's keep it to the forum from here on out, this is getting ridiculous.
I didn't mean the wolf fight. What i meant was the fact that the entire movie revolves around the fact that, in the movie's reality anyway, wolves hunt and kill people, for fun, on a regularly basis. Which is simply not true and never has been. And there are certainly no snipers being hired by oil contractors to kill them off when they try to attack workers. That's awesome that you found something great in the movie, but I still think that if this is the most profound film about mortality you've seen, I think you have missed a lot of great titles. Me, I thought the movie felt very made-for-TV.
I'm certainly not "upset" at you liking the film, but perhaps a bit frustrated by having to re-explain myself two or three times to dead ears. It becomes exceedingly frustrating when people do not grasp the concept that there is no such thing as profundity,or great or good films unless they are in relative to people who view them. Debating the greatness or goodness of a film is a masturbatory exercise, so you could(but you probably won't) save yourself the time of starting a new forum to debate the attributes of the film if you just realized you are accomplishing nothing by doing so. If you liked it, then YOU liked it, if you thought it was profound, then it was profound to YOU. Give me a few reasons in the forum why it was profound and I will in turn tell you why it wasn't . This can go on and on. This is a simple fact.
Man, I'm starting the forum thread. But a great deal of what you said above makes a great deal of the most interesting threads this site has ever produced in your eyes useless. Of course they're my opinions, and yours are YOURS, and we may not every get the other to agree. Does this make discussion of it useless? Not in the damn least. Unless you absolutely don't factor other peoples' points into your thoughts on a film, which would be arrogant. Discussions allow for greater reflection, regardless if they change your opinion. And of course, the profundity or greatness of a film is incredibly subjective and personal, it doesn't mean we should say a film is not great. If I say a film is great, then it gives better insight into how I felt about it specifically, more than if I said I liked it. I suppose I adhere more to the classical Cahiers approach, rather than the rather cold outlook you're promoting.
I value other peoples opinions highly, not everyone's of course, but those of people I respect. However, they CANNOT change my base emotional reaction to a film, and nor can I. Your insistence upon still liking the The Grey aptly displays the aforementioned point. People who have similar life experiences and who are intellectually and emotionally similar to me, will share my opinions,and the converse is true as well. It would be very naive of you to think that perhaps through persuasion and discussion, and convincing others that a film is profound, that somehow the film becomes objectively profound. This is not to say that I think the world of opinions is a world of equal value. Quite the contrary, an opinion founded upon sound reasoning and facts is always stronger than a nonsensical diatribe. But that coincides with my initial point; If a film emotionally affected you, say that(in whatever words you like), and If you wish to debate your philosophical reasons for liking a film, great, but realize you aren't talking about the film any more, you are debating the value of your personal philosophies and how they related to you liking a film. You may find this film profound now, and ten years from now think it was philosophically vapid. That says much to the value of debating the greatness of films.
One of the more daring Hollywood films of the 2000s. It has a fitful and energetic sense of cinematic invention that can, in spirit, be compared to Hong Kong. Verbinski has a definitive surrealistic sense of humor and sequence construction that lends to the overall sense of relentless movement and shifting surfaces that make the film exceptional. one of the most wildly textured films of the aughts.
A singular genius that pop hasn't seen before or since. A jawdroppingly incredible musician (greatest guitarist of the 80s), who blends a vast amount of influences like no one else ever has. I'm tempted to call him the greatest pop artist after The Beatles. He sent a lightening bolt through music.
This is becoming Van Damme's missing Ambersons footage fast...
Quite simply, there is no better film about rock, about its original, defining principles. Anarchy, jovial sin, and laid-back hedonism, as well as a healthy contempt for the bourgeoisie. Lester's form provides the perfect outlet for the most powerful cultural force of the 60s. Matched with the obvious intelligence and hilarious wit of The Beatles, this film is one of the key 60s films, one of the most enjoyable ever.
Both War Horse and Tintin are disappointing following the most experimental, poetic, and resonant decade in Spielberg's filmmography. Both ultimately fail at their separate attempts at drama and adventure respectively. War Horse falls short of the pure emotional expressions of A.I. or Close Encounters, while Tintin does not have the intelligence and soulfulness that drove the Indiana Jones films. Regardless, both possess signature moments of virtuoso visual genius that none of 'Berg's contemporaries can match. I myself am not particularly discourage; there have always been short off periods between Spielberg peaks. On to Lincoln!
This film is so thoroughly thematically consistent with the other entries in the series that, in its progression from the earlier films, it becomes the skeleton key for the entire franchise. Not on the subject of Jones and family (though that is of course present), but of the division of the old and new world, of the spiritual and the secular, religion and rationality. Here, the figure of Western rationalism himself is dwarfed by modern man's own Ark of the Covenant. The rhyme of the nuke and the spaceship is one of the most profound codas in Spielberg's cinema.
At this point, this is the greatest and most mature Stone film I've seen.
Quite underrated. Some of Carpenter's finest widescreen compositions are on display here. Gradually, the invasion of space transforms from the suggested (masterfully illustrated by the first act), to the physical, gray shapes of the demonic children. Essentially, this is a fusion of The Thing and The Fog, both an abstract outside force and a destruction from within.
My Favorite Director. More than a poet, a philosopher, a chronicler, he is a mentor. Yet all I can keep thinking of is the character for "Nothingness" left on his grave. Only this artist of sake, tea kettles, tables, Hara's smile and Ryu's sigh could be so enigmatic. Every time I watch one of his films, I have to relearn every other one from scratch.
Really, really loved this. My favorite documentary about a filmmaker I've yet seen. I guess the truest measurement of its success is that I feel it actually gave me insight into Ozu and his craft.
The camera breaks free from man, floats through the bars, into eternity. There are few other shots in cinema as justifiably celebrated.
"How do you like your ribs?"
One of the most ambitious of American directors, with a truly tragic career. Cimino's epic and melancholic laments for a dying America, a compromised America, make him a key filmmaker in cinema's history. He was probably too honest to ever be popular in the States. No one since has had a better sense of the wounded soul of the nation. Indeed, he stands beside Ford in that regard. The Deer Hunter and Year of the Dragon are the finest, most complex, and most melancholy reflections on Vietnam and its legacy, while Heaven's Gate almost makes the search for the Great American Novel irrelevant.
Fincher's finally become as great as his reputation. His earlier work, in my opinion, is largely vacuous and often immoral (though I do like The Game). With Zodiac, he matured, and his filmmaking itself moved past his earlier atmospherics. Now a brisk, rat-tat-tat montage dominates his visions, a montage of evidence, occurrences, snippets of time, as he pursues something rather elusive. As pointed out in several wonderful essays, he is fascinated by process, and, strangely, finds humanity in his cataloging. His next work, about the construction of Captain Nemo's Nautilus, seems ideal for his new direction. With three incredible films under his belt (Zodiac, Social Network, Dragon Tattoo), I am finally comfortable in calling him a Great Filmmaker.
The Greatest Bassist of All Time. Absolutely, 100% no contest. Not even close.