Basquiat tells the story of the meteoric rise of youthful artist Jean-Michel Basquiat. Starting out as a street artist, living in Thompkins Square Park in a cardboard box, Jean-Michel is "... See full summary »
Benicio Del Toro
A look at the life of Alfred Kinsey, a pioneer in the area of human sexuality research, whose 1948 publication "Sexual Behavior in the Human Male" was one of the first recorded works that saw science address sexual behavior.
In the 1960s, British painter Francis Bacon (1909-1992) surprises a burglar and invites him to share his bed. The burglar, a working class man named George Dyer, 30 years Bacon's junior, accepts. Bacon finds Dyer's amorality and innocence attractive, introducing him to his Soho pals. In their sex life, Dyer dominates, Bacon is the masochist. Dyer's bouts with depression, his drinking and pill popping, and his satanic nightmares strain the relationship, as does his pain with Bacon's casual infidelities. Bacon paints, talks with wit, and, as Dyer spins out of control, begins to find him tiresome. Could Bacon care less? Written by
"Love Is The Devil" stirs me to scope out James Bond now, Daniel Craig's an exciting choice I must say: content over celebrity.
In response to the viewer who complained about the dislocated scenes that may or may not be relevant to the whole, the distorted lens... this is a film about a real painter. What is so brilliant about this work, is that they found a way to visually bring Bacon's paintings to life - they are exploring the man, the life, the love through the filter of his own paintings. Audacious attempt. Expertly Accomplished. One of the few films about painting that honestly pays true homage to the art form. This is not a suburban film about a painter - and who he was and what happened to him and what he did - rather... This Is A Painter's Film. There are graceful, indelible moments here that have scraped a little unused previously untouched part of my brain I did not know was there and scarred and these irrelevant vivid images, these haunting shots that only exist to soar and be seen without a net of linear context have affixed themselves into my memory to reappear at whim and always make me gasp. and clamor to savor, they slip away again. and the world, oh yea, here. That last amazing scene I'm trying so hard not to copy in my own creations, but - that - last - amazing - scene - seems - stronger - than - my - own - will -
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