The electric, inventive energy of the film makes it even less believable that it should have been Demme’s last, but if these shots of hammers and forklifts and pulleys had to be his closing coda, perhaps it’s an appropriate one: a collection of scenes showing all the tireless, good-humored effort and craftsmanship it takes to make a feature-length entertainment seem so graceful and so effortless.
The number of moving parts in Justin Timberlake’s stage show is so overwhelming that you can have a grand time watching the concert film Justin Timberlake + The Tennessee Kids with the sound muted, marveling at the expressionistic assembly of moving glass catwalks and geodesic screens that fragment and distort pointillist projections of faces.
It begins with a full-stage wide shot: our man’s alone in the centre of the frame, perfectly miniscule, as this colossal silhouette’s cast against the white-canvas backdrop behind him. Then the lighting changes—a lower-spotlight reaches up and cradles Timberlake’s face from below—and Demme cuts to a medium shot. Suddenly JT fills the screen, bobbing up and down with boyish glee. From grandeur to intimacy in an instant! It’s really something. And to me that’s director and star in harmony.
Paul Thomas Anderson’ın bu eşsiz belgeselinde, Radiohead’in gitaristi Jonny Greenwood, İsrailli müzisyen Shye Ben Tzur ve çok sayıda harika Hintli sanatçı bir araya geliyor. Bu samimi, çok sesli ve çok kültürlü yolculukta neşelenmeye hazır olun.