Sweet Movie relies upon vulgar spectacles in order to receive favorable attention or any sort of critical uproar; this an unavoidable reality of Makavejev's cinema. If one were to remove a majority of the vulgar or provocative imagery from this film, we would be left with an anarchic vision of the world, full of heavy-handed political and economic metaphors, as well as a slew of liberal gut-reactions to fascism and sexual repression. There is a typical sort of critical cop-out here as well, in saying that Sweet Movie is dismissed for the wrong reasons. It's not so much that the film's vulgarity is stupid, rather that it's absymal stupidity is vulgar. Shooting footage of a Wilhelm Reich inspired commune, in which the member play with their food, shit, and urine, is not brilliant provocation or sexually liberating; it's just footage of a bunch of moronic savages with rather childlike, Rousseauian ideals of personal freedom, playing with their own waste and acting like children. The problem here isn't even so much a question of the vulgarity of all of this. What's truly insulting is how so many critics and scholars feel compelled to defend such a mindless spectacle under the assumption that a bunch Makavejev's rather vague thematic obsessions are brilliantly intentional, or even insightful. Sweet Movie embodies the most idiotic fixations of counterculture cinema; it's a deliberately vulgar spectacle of retarded sexuality, chalk full of childish political ideals and bad metaphors. It's really no surprise that this man made a documentary about Wilhelm Reich. This film almost makes William Klein's Mr. Freedom seem brilliant in comparison.

For now I will just say that I could watch a recording of the young Malcolm Macdowell playing solitaire alone, in a white room, and basically find it riveting.

Makes me wish that Kurosawa worked with Miyagawa on every single one of his films.

Ah marriage. That endles power struggle between two individuals who "love one another". As usual, Lubitsch's Mise en Scene is majestic, his actors charming to the point of awkwardness, and his jokes are timeless. Really, Chevalier is whimsical. Truly, one of the first great musicals, or one of the few worth watching anyway.

And we have a DVD transfer. Finally. God, I saw this on acid last weekend. There is something pleasantly haunting about this film.

Ingmar Bergman is a more or less perfect director.

Ugh. Fuck this. God, I'm designating this to be the one film that I criticize in this life without ever having seen it. Reitman is a sentimental schmuck. The trailers alone should've been enough to deter any reasonable person from sitting through this nausea-inducing, quirk-fest. Granted, I haven't seen it, but...c'mon people.

I don't know, I just don't appreciate late-period Fellini as much. While I find the majority of the film interminable, I did actually cry at the end. The ending was especially a little too wink-wink clever for my taste, even for 84'. Fellini is Fellini though.

It seems like many critics who praised this thing overlooked the fact that any or all of its charm lies merely in its aesthetic value, which Christopher Doyle is clearly responsible for. Van Sant is the worst sort of artistic thief. The "Gerry" trilogy is a flat out insult to Bela Tarr. Don't even get me started on the latent pedophilia inherent in almost all of his films.

This film is bound to get bad press. Here is some good press though. Jonathan Rosenbaum is a great critic. http://www.jonathanrosenbaum.com/?p=15562 I have my own two cents to put in about this one, especially ones that concern the similarities with Le Samourai. Until then...