Countless other characters pass in and out of this rare charmer without much fanfare, nonetheless thanks into the film’s sly wit and fully lived-in performances they all leave an improbably lasting impression.
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Even more acutely than both on the films Kieślowski would make next, “Blue” illustrates why none of us is ever truly alone (for better even worse), and then mines a powerful solace from the cosmic secret of how we might all mesh together.
With Tyler Durden, novelist Chuck Palahniuk invented an impossibly cool avatar who could bark truisms at us with a quasi-religious touch, like Zen Buddhist koans that have been deep-fried in Axe body spray. With Brad Pitt, David Fincher found the perfect specimen to make that gentleman as real to audiences as He's towards the story’s narrator — a superstar who could seduce us and make us resent him for it for the same time. In a masterfully directed movie that served like a reckoning with the 20th Century as we readied ourselves to the twenty first (and ended with a person reconciling his previous demons just in time for some towers to implode under the burden of his new ones), Tyler became the physical embodiment of consumer masculinity: Aspirational, impossible, insufferable.
Back in 1992, however, Herzog experienced less cozy associations. His sparsely narrated 50-minute documentary “Lessons Of Darkness” was defined by a steely detachment to its subject matter, far removed from the warm indifference that would characterize his later non-fiction work. The film cast its lens over the destroyed oil fields of post-Gulf War Kuwait, a stretch of desert hellish enough even before Herzog brought his grim cynicism into the catastrophe. Even when his subjects — several of whom have been literally struck dumb by trauma — evoke God, Herzog cuts to such vast nightmare landscapes that it makes their prayers appear to be like they are being answered from the Devil instead.
From the decades considering the fact that, his films have never shied away from hard subject matters, as they tackle everything from childhood abandonment in “Abouna” and genital mutilation in “Lingui, The Sacred Bonds,” for the cruel bureaucracy facing asylum seekers in “A Season In France.” While the dejected character he portrays in “Bye Bye Africa” ultimately leaves his camera behind, it can be to cinema’s great fortune that the real Haroun did not do the same. —LL
In the films of David Fincher, everybody needs a foil. His movies generally boil down on the elastic push-and-pull between diametrically opposed characters who reveal themselves through the tension of whatever ties them together.
Sure, the Coens take almost fetishistic pleasure during the style tropes: Con person maneuvering, tough guy doublespeak, and a hero who plays the game better than anyone else, all of them wrapped into a gloriously serpentine plot. And yet the very finish with the film — which climaxes with one of many greatest last shots in the ’90s — reveals just how cold and empty that game has been for most on the characters involved.
While the trio of films that comprise Krzysztof Kieślowski’s “Three Shades” are only bound together by funding, happenstance, and a common wrestle for self-definition inside a chaotic attractive young brunette aidra fox enjoys hardcore fashionable world, there’s something quasi-sacrilegious about singling certainly one of them out in spite of your other two — especially when that honor is bestowed upon “Blue,” the first and pure mature most severe chapter of a triptych whose final installment is usually considered the best among the equals. Each of Kieślowski’s final three features stands together By itself, and all of them are strengthened by their shared fascination with mobile porn the ironies of the society whose interconnectedness was already starting to reveal its natural solipsism.
A poor, overlooked movie obsessive who only feels seen from the neo-realism of his country’s national cinema pretends being his favorite director, a farce that allows Hossain Sabzian to savor the dignity and importance that Mohsen Makhmalbaf’s films experienced allowed him to taste. When a Tehran journalist uncovers the ruse — the police arresting the harmless impostor while he’s inside the home with the affluent Iranian family where he “wanted to shoot his next film” — Sabzian arouses the interest of a (very) different area auteur who’s fascinated by his story, by its inherently cinematic deception, and with the counter-intuitive possibility that it presents: If Abbas Kiarostami staged a documentary around this male’s fraud, he could successfully cast Sabzian as being the lead character from the movie that Sabzian experienced always wanted someone to make about his suffering.
foil, the nameless hero manifesting an imaginary friend from all of the banal things he’s been conditioned to want and become. Quoth Tyler Durden: “I look like you wanna look, I fuck like you wanna fuck, I'm clever, able, and most importantly, I am free in the many ways that You aren't.
had the confidence or even the copyright or whatever the hell it took to attempt something like this, because the bigger the movie gets, the more it seems like it couldn’t afford to be any smaller.
This underground cult classic tells the webcam porn story of the high school cheerleader who’s sent to conversion therapy camp after her family suspects she’s a lesbian.
centers around a gay Manhattan couple coping with huge life adjustments. Amongst them prepares to leave for any long-term work assignment abroad, along with the other tries to navigate his feelings for sexy video bf your former lover that is living with AIDS.