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Suna no onna (1964)
The title of Kōbō Abe's 1962 enigmatic novel "Suna no onna", from which Hiroshi Teshigahara's 1964 homonymous movie was taken, is translated into English as "Woman in the dunes". However, the correct translation of the original title "砂の女, Sand Woman" brings us closer to what this cinematic masterpiece is all about; whereas "Woman in the dunes" calls to mind a too much of a personal history of one'existence, "Sand woman" points to something that is beyond "the certificates we use to make certain of one another". Life is not in need of identification cards at all. Everything is fated, nothing depends on man, for he cannot find anything to depend upon either within or outside himself, "both completely buried under particles an eighth of a millimeter wide you can't fight it! It's hopeless!" Everything you'd have thought and brought up will be blown into the wind. Has there ever been anything man could control? "Are you shoveling sand to live or living to shovel sand?" Cinematographer Hiroshi Segawa's wondrous writing is intensely visual, is deeply sensual... A remarkable work, a movie experience you'll never forget.
One More GMO From Hollywood
Friedrich Nietzsche said: "The essential element in the black art of obscurantism is not that it wants to darken individual understanding, but that it wants to blacken our picture of the world, and darken our idea of existence." In her writings Mother Theresa speaks of God talking to her about becoming a sister of the poor: "You are I know the most incapable person, weak and sinful, but just because you are that I want to use you, For My Glory! Wilt thou refuse?". Scorsese's struggle with his cultural heritage all its imprinted Catholicism made him become a parody of himself; incapable and unfit to direct "Silence" (2016). This film comes with a sense of a void, it has an awful emptiness, woefully filled of sentimental Christian mysticisms. A sellout of everyone's neighbor love, a benedictus from the Catholic Church. If there was anything at all in the film, it made me discover Masahiro Shinoda's "Silence" (1971 - Original title: Chinmoku), a much more eloquent, impressive movie. The once 46 years young Scorsese came under criticism from bigoted Christians over "The Last Temptation of Christ" (1988)... what Pope Francis thinks about today's venerable Scorsese's missionary Silence I don't know, but to me it seems this Hollywood was made only "For the greater Glory of God".
La migliore offerta (2013)
Sold Way Overpriced
how to sway the audience's opinion that this very elegant piece of 'film' is nothing but an deceptive 'movie'. It is often said that revealing too much would ruin the surprises that come. But revealing the most possible reality is precisely what makes a good movie cinematically exist it is the movie's unique closeness to reality that reveals what the reality hides, not the other way around. Why insult the audience's intelligence? Tornatore made with "The Best Offer" (story and screenplay) a painfully trivial film, produced and -consumed again and again for passive, unthinking spectators. Perfectly forgettable assembled pieces of an roll your eyes automaton and even Morricone's looped strain dies of prostration. There is only one scene that is worth mentioning. It is when Geoffrey Rush strikes Sylvia Hoeks's locked door and admits that he is the one that was hiding in the room.
The Hateful Eight (2015)
Tarantino's? Call it, Self-karaoke
Tarantino's 'The Hateful Eight' never reaches the same level of excitement or acuity of Quentin's earlier cinematic intelligence. Remember the startling 'Reservoir Dogs' and its 'eight' crooks played by Harvey, Tim, Chris, Steve, Lawrence, Michael, Eddie and Quentin himself? I'd say Quentin is getting worse and worse keeping making Tarantino's film. I mean, this new talkie has a glorious opening act though
only up to an awful close-up, Samuel L. Jackson's face, as if he had come out fresh from a hairdresser parlor... well, from there on, the movie is just poorly directed. Despite it's been lovingly photographed on heroic 70mm film stock to me, it's a total lack of empathy, lack capacity for hope, fear, love, hate. Shallow emotions, why bother? He once remarked: "When people ask me if I went to film school I tell them, no, I went to films" that was Quentin at its best. Today's lesson for Tarantino: "if you do a pastiche don't do a pastiche of your own style".
The Thomas Crown Affair (1968)
A unique poetic cinematic montage
"The Thomas Crown Affair", 1968, a fantastic film by Norman Jewison. Hal Ashby as an editor and associate producer made a meaningful artistic contribution to the film. A lot of people remember this film as well because of Noel Harrison's song "The Windmills Of Your Mind" (music by Michel Legrand, lyrics by Alan & Marilyn Bergman). Two wonderful actors: Steve McQueen and Faye Dunaway, and many other remarkable artists gathered together. A time when experimentation and artistic freedom brought us captivating cinematic storytelling. Exciting, cynical, extremely beautiful, delicate and humorous until film-making felt in the hand of the corporations and their marketing departments.
Knight of Cups (2015)
The Missing Jack of Spades
Knight of Cups a film by Terrence Malick, a film edited by A.J. Edwards, Keith Fraase, Geoffrey Richman, Mark Yoshikawa
commissioned, produced, empowered by two hundreds other people lugging one thousandth of a meter behind
Mr. Malick, how could you have allowed this to happen? didn't you have the insight or that achieved mastery to prevent it? Who knows (no question mark here). Knight of Cups is a pure shiver of love to film making, but a monstrous thing took place, your people tricked you - everything happens for a reason - and with this boring truth they pilfered your vibrant motion pictures, in pieces, out of word out of feel, out of peace, out of one's lifetime, all because that was needed for their yours? heavenly announced choir. Dear Terrence I welcome you, call me at any time of day or night, it will not take us more than three weeks and I'd help you, if you like, to turn your monotonous, hopeless shine - silver - screen to rust.
A Stickiness, That cannot be washed.
You take something unfamiliar like the fear of the unknown, tailor it to the common assumption of the audience so that you don't force them to think too hard
and you'll get an uninspired film tours the world withal animate acclamation and trophies and prizes by the apparatus of the official state culture. In this ruinous process, and with the complicity of obtuse moviegoers who desire precisely not to see the unfamiliar, cinema can no longer exist in the way it has always reinvent itself film after film. Cinematography was the sincere desire of reproducing the movement of the world, of men and women's language, of life. There was no cinema without love and it never had the power of parading soldiers or academic scientists or television people of today; Yôjirô Takita's "Departures" lacks any vital issues that could damage revenues and harm the film's commercial prospects, no payoff for you, you are bought if of any interest "Okuribito" is an apt metaphor for human-to-citizen-to-consumer-to-consumed.
Den brysomme mannen (2006)
Whatever it is, That's not a film
The subject matter of Jens Lien's "The Bothersome Man" is clear: we ought to live on as brainwashed citizens even after death. So what if the director himself abide such a Hades? Someone was singing years ago Where do the children play? Let's admit it, "Den brysomme mannen" is a dull pettiness of banality both in its production and its directional joke What other joke could bring a film to life? Let them eat cake! Few are the eyes able to see the horror of the current filmmaking environment, the forced subjugation and cultural extermination of the current social and economic arrangements. Who are those who make movies today? Do children play anymore? For someone who's able to love would it be possible for him to pay for love? Watch out, you are trained to life as dogs to walk.
I basilischi (1963)
The Italian, American Graffiti
Lina Wertmüller's directorial debut "I Basilischi" (The Basilisks or The Lizards) is a 1963 little known wonderfully written and directed masterwork of Italian Neorealismo. This keenly satiric and galvanizing movie features simplicity in both its story and execution; so unique so special. It sparkles with cinematic magic unlike any other film today. Wertmüller's lean, sharp graffito seduces and functions almost like a parable, in a number of remarkable ironic insightful vignettes, pure motives which alone drive the narrative of the picture forward. Filmed in a detached pictorial black and white, Gianni Di Venanzo, post-war cinematographer, made fundamental contributions to Lina Wertmüller's first success as a filmmaker. The magnificent and beautiful Ennio Morricone scores the scenes.
Django Unchained (2012)
This Pulp Is The Worst Fiction Ever Made
One out of the worst money-movies these times. Quentin is keeping exterminating his own film-making; burnt out, there's little chance of recovery. He lost his innocence and the genuine investment of the real geniuses that have lived. That's it. I have already written about that not long ago; there's nothing more to do for Tarantino than to laugh his way to the bank. What a loss for all involved. I can understand that Christoph Waltz, Leonardo Di Caprio, Morgan Freeman and Jamie Foxx and many others allow themselves to become involved in the making of a new film and, perhaps, in a performance, in a project with a filmmaker who proved he was somebody... but this garbage is denigrating the art of cinematic storytelling, this is compromising the ability for the young moviegoers to never enjoy in the future any resource and representation of life. What's your name? Django Can you spell it? An exchange between Jamie Foxx and Franco Nero, the man who first played Django in 1966, a Damned Great Movie, that time has left behind, which happened, for a sterile profit-only engagement, to fit the name. Today, Quentin Tarantino is not and probably ever will, be able to spell 'Movie' once again The 'Director' is silent I know that, strikes Corbucci's Django.