brianberta Reviews

Home from the Hill (1960)

A powerful breakdown of toxic masculinity.

[9/10 · 20 April 2024]

This is one of the most interesting breakdowns of toxic masculinity I've seen in a long time. Part of the reason it packs such a punch is how cleverly it tricks you into warming up to Wade. What initially starts off as a silent battle between a married couple to have their son grow up under their influence soon fizzles out once the film fixates more and more on Wade while Hannah is pushed further and further to the sidelines. Seeing how Wade's influence causes Theron's reputation to grow amongst a group of hunters who initially didn't think much of him and how his life is improved from spending time around Rafe leads one to have faith that everything will turn out well and that Theron made the right choice after all. Wade's reputation amongst the town and the first scene though are hard to ignore and, the more hints which pop up (Albert's strong distrust of Theron), the clearer it becomes that the bubble we built up around Wade is about to burst.

Once the inevitable mid film reveal comes along, the film turns from really good to excellent due to a couple reasons. First, it fully realizes its critique of masculinity. Being a skilled hunter and the wealthiest person in town, Wade appears to have it all at first glance, but learning about Rafe's familial ties and Wade's cruel rejection of him due to his inability to commit to the consequences of his mistakes makes him seem like a pathetic person deep down who has all kinds of insecurities. Wade's points of "pride" are limited to him being a womanizer and the best hunter in the town. The group of hunters he spends so much time around don't have much to show for themselves either and largely exist somewhat in his shadow.

More significantly though, the second half reveal allows the film to branch out and explore the scope of the people Wade impacted. Because instead of just touching on the jealous husbands out to get revenge, it expands its scope to Wade's immediate family (and even his hunting dogs to an extent, given the boar hunt). The impact Wade has on Theron involves his hesitancy to commit to his relationship with Libby and progress up the social ladder since he'd have to leave Rafe in the dust in the process, who's far less fortunate than him. Their scenes in the final act contain a ton of humanity and the final couple conversations between them are especially powerful since it's clear throughout them that Theron wants Rafe to enjoy the life he initially had little chance of getting. At first, Hannah didn't stick out to me that much, but upon reflection, I was struck by how rough her situation is. Due to her strained relationship with Wade, saving Theron from his influence is all she can hope for, yet she lacks the strength to breach the barrier her husband has built up. Her best effort to fix everything only serves to cause more problems for both Theron and herself. There's also a lot to be said about the sheer contrast between Wade and Rafe. In spite of his lack of wealth and consideration for his well being, Rafe has a degree of nobility and genuine compassion that's sorely lacking in Wade. Financially speaking, Rafe lacks everything Wade has, yet is still twice the man he is on almost all levels.

Once the constant framing and reframing of the characters is all said and done, we get a nuanced ending which is hopeful only to some of the characters we rooted for. It's tragic in a sense, yet it gives another character a much better outcome than one might've expected. It's somehow the happiest ending one could expect from this setting.

The Zone of Interest (2023)

Though I have some issues with it, it's still very interesting.

[6/10 · 7 April 2024]

Does the zone of interest refer to the top or the bottom half of the screen? This is the question I started asking myself halfway into it and I still haven't found an answer. While I'm not as down on this film as some people are, so much of the environment Glazer creates boils down to the contrast between the two halves of the screen. On the bottom half lies a paradise. The vegetation is lush, the small swimming pool in the backyard and the frequent trips to the lake provide a great dose of fun to Höss's children, and the interior of the house looks rather pristine. The top half of the screen is where the reality of their surroundings peaks over the edge. Occasional sounds of screams and gunfire, smoke rising from the incinerators, and steam from arriving trains complicates the serenity down below. Any intrusions the top half has on the bottom half (human ash accumulating on flower petals, unseen dead bodies floating in the river, and concentration camp prisoners working/marching in the background), though fairly insignificant in the grand scheme of the environment, are hard to ignore (for us, at least) whenever the camera fixates on them. A weaker film would've given us a glimpse or two of what goes on over the walls and would've showed the human suffering up close, but Glazer is really careful at how he compartmentalizes us from the Holocaust, linking us aurally through sound rather than visually. With this, he's able to put us in the headspace of Höss's family fairly well, as if we're experiencing his house from their viewpoints.

That said, I felt I got the idea of the film fairly early on. The further I got into it, the more I was beginning to feel diminishing returns as the repetition was growing clearer and clearer. Which isn't inherently bad, but mixing repetition with the abundance of static characters who didn't react much to Auschwitz's intrusion on their lives didn't do it much favors. Hedwig Höss's mother reacting negatively to the burning crematorium was the only time the repetition came close to wearing me down and even that sub-plot was somewhat brief. I also took issue with a significant portion of the final act being set in Berlin and a SS party. Since I had grown largely tired of the film by that point, I initially welcomed the change in scenery only to find the new scenery to be comparably less atmospheric. Also, while I admired the bizarre soundtrack and the uncommon visual abstractions as a curiosity, I'm not sure they fit the tone of the film that well (someone may be able to convince me otherwise for this point though). I don't know if the film will grow on me if I sit on it for a couple days, but as it stands now, I found it to be a fairly mixed bag and I wish I could've responded to it better.

Saint Omer (2022)

Somewhat of a missed opportunity but still interesting.

[7/10 · 31 March 2024]

This was a fairly interesting courtroom drama about alienation and clashing cultures where certain parts of Coly's life were reflected in that of Rama's. Both women are Senegalese, are in interracial relationships, and have complex relationships with their mothers. Aside from a couple brief scenes here and there and a few quality close up shots, the film doesn't do a whole lot with Rama's connection to Coly. The scenes which occur outside of the courtroom which give us a personal look at how the court hearing is affecting Rama feel rushed through as the film is constantly eager to cut back to the lengthy courtroom sequences. Fortunately, what we get in that regard is quite thought provoking and layered. While watching it, I frequently thought about my experience reading "Native Son". While neither works attempt to apologize for the crimes of the respective characters in each, they instead portray the various factors which led to the crimes taking place and recontexualize the violent criminal trope which is used all too often and instead portray them more as everyday humans. The more Coly opens up throughout the film, the more we begin to understand the various factors which shaped her and led to her actions. The most telling bits for me was when her boyfriend (who's noticeably much older than her) was revealed to have gone through great lengths to hide Coly from his family and ignored her distress when she needed him the most. While understanding the nature of a crime is interesting though, so were the parallels between Coly and Rama. Given how much Rama's character existed on the outside edges of the film and how it kept seeming like we'd finally be given more to latch on to with her, there were some noticeable missed opportunities involved. The film had quite a lot of potential and capitalized on maybe 2/3 of it at best. Still though, the film sat decently well with me upon reflection and thinking about its themes and strategies later on was enjoyable. I think I preferred that over watching the film.

EO (2022)

A highly subjective and transcendental experience.

[8/10 · 29 March 2024]

Looking at how my Letterboxd friends have responded to this film, it appears that nobody has rated it above four stars. And yes, I know my rating is also a four, but I also haven't rated any films from the 2020's over four stars yet (a few rewatches are in order though). This isn't the most subtle film around and I can see someone walking away with "it's just a lesser Au Hasard Balthazar", but I was really enamored with it and figured I'd make a few points in defense of it. I was initially curious if it would be a poor man's version of Bresson's film, but I like how it found its own unique voice, as opposed to following in its footsteps. Bresson's film is largely characterized by mirroring Balthazar's life with Marie, while EO takes a different unique approach with the characters. EO is (almost) always at the center of the film. The camera stays by his side from beginning to end and, even when he's not in the frame, it finds various ways for his presence to loom in the background or hang over the shot to keep him at the forefront. For instance, a recurring style of subjective camerawork which captures the somewhat blurry motion of other figures (a group of horses running through a field and a soccer match) appears to be occurring from EO's point of view given the shooting style. Or take another lengthy scene of a truck driver transporting a group of animals which is bathed heavily in a bright red, a color which is associated with EO due to its prominence in some recurring hallucinatory sequences. The human characters in the film fall somewhere between secondary characters and background scenery (granted, a late film sequence with Huppert and Zurzolo briefly ruins the tone). The decision to zero in on EO makes this film a highly subjective experience. EO wandering through the landscape by himself is truly something else due to how the alien photography feels reminiscent, as a few other reviewers I've come across have noted, of Under the Skin. The film also turns transcendental when it bathes certain sequences in the aforementioned bright red color or includes a couple scenes which feel caught between fantasy and reality. And at the heart of all the technical craft lies the emotional core of EO's desire for freedom and perhaps to be reunited with his original owner. It's not the most complex of messages, but the film takes it in so many interesting places along the way I couldn't help but be fascinated.

Anyways, now I'm more eager to revisit Au Hasard Balthazar.

The Kid with a Bike (2011)

The Dardenne's have done it yet again.

[8/10 · 16 March 2024]

This is the fourth film I've seen from the Dardenne brothers and, while they're all somewhat on the same level of (high) quality for me, this film has dethroned "La Promesse" as my clear favorite. Like "La Promesse", while a central character in both films certainly causes problems for other people (Roger in "La Promesse" and Cyril in "The Kid With a Bike"), the insecurities which engender their actions are able to complicate and mitigate their bad behavior enough that they don't quite reach unlikable status. With "The Kid With a Bike", Cyril's betrayal by his father and his wish to be loved, albeit by the wrong people, got me to hold out a slight bit of sympathy for him, as challenging as he could be. He clearly felt isolated and lost with Samantha and the avenues he turned to as a last resort to get his life back on track were the culminations to his alienation. Since Samantha was a good person at heart though and genuinely had the best intentions for Cyril (contrary to the characters he turned to for comfort), retaining your sympathy for him can be quite the challenge. Ultimately, the final scene was a brilliant way to end the film. For a bit, I suspected it would end on a tragic, albeit somewhat contrived note, given it occurred directly after things started to look up. Fortunately, we instead get a more nuanced ending. Comparing Cyril's and Samantha's newfound good relations with the newsstand owner and his son (two characters you initially sympathize with) planning to cover up a potential murder highlights the moralistic difference between the two families and the changes they've both gone through. As Cyril rides away, you get the sense that all will be well going forward. I don't know if the Dardenne's will be able to top this film, but I'll keep tabs on their filmography regardless.

Dune: Part Two (2024)

Pretty good, albeit somewhat muddled.

[7/10 · 6 March 2024]

This won't read like a positive review since I'm going to be illustrating an element which I found unsatisfying for both this film and (to a lesser extent) the 2021 Dune, so before you read ahead, I'd just like to point out that I enjoyed the film on the whole and found it to be visually and technically impressive. It's definitely one of those "see it in the theater" movies which we rarely get nowadays.

I've asked and have seen other people ask variations of the question "Is Paul intended to be a power-hungry villain or a noble protagonist who genuinely wishes to help the impoverished people?" a handful of times and have seen a variety of responses across the board. I've seen some people say he is intended to be selfish and villainous, while some other people have argued that, though he betrayed Chani in the process of reclaiming his leadership, he's still a good person and wants the best for his people.

Where do I stand on this? I'm honestly not sure. I think his betrayal of Chani for one of the Shaddam's daughters is a main point of contention regarding his motivations as this is where I've read a great deal of arguments for his selfishness. As Paul explained in the 2021 Dune though, his reasoning for marrying one of the Shaddam's daughters was to hopefully prevent a civil war once news of the Shaddam's treachery would be widely known, so I don't think his actions here can be summed up in a black and white good or bad metric. They're far more nuanced.

Fair arguments can be made that being more upfront with Chani about his intentions would've been the noble way to go about it since she wouldn't have been given false hopes then, but this would've also introduced the threat of her turning on him much earlier and Paul potentially losing the support of the Fremen. Either way, don't the benefits of potentially preventing a civil war and saving countless lives outweigh the disappointment he caused to a single person along the way? For a second, I was confident this was how to read his character, but then the film ends on a cliffhanger where Paul intends to have the Fremen attack the Great Houses for opposing his ascendancy to the throne. So, he is intended to be power hungry after all? What does this say about his prior actions then?

This is my issue with the film. While ambiguous character motivations aren't bad by any means, this is a case where Paul's motives are so muddled to the point they seem to contradict each other. If he is intended to be a villain and if he is intended to become a dominator in the ending, that would cancel out my interpretation of his relationship with Chani and, to be honest, I don't know how I'd read their relationship at that point. If he'll be revealed to have noble intentions by the time (or if) part 3 comes out, that will make a bit more sense but then the film could be argued as a white savior trope of sorts. Still though, I think the latter alternative would be the best option provided they include enough moral ambiguities in his process of saving the impoverished people (like his aforementioned betrayal of Chani, even if there was an understandable reason why he did that). As it stands right now though, that people can't seem to agree on whether he's good or bad says a lot about how unclear his motivations are.

Having watched part 1 less than a week before part 2 was released played a part in my enjoyment since I held out some confidence that part 2 would resolve my unanswered questions but it instead did the opposite. If they do manage to resolve everything in a seamless way, then kudos, but the journey leading up to it feels so muddled right now. Like I said at the start, I still enjoyed the film quite a bit and, if part 3 gets released, I'll probably be in the theaters for it. Hopefully, they're able to resolve this.

Memoria (I) (2021)

A sensual dream.

[8/10 · 26 January 2024]

This is a tough one to rate as, while I was certainly blown away by the time the credits rolled, I felt I didn't get fully on board with it until the final half hour. Before that, while I appreciated the unexpected, albeit uncommon moments of sound design (the recurring sonic booms) and the outstanding framing in certain scenes, its style still felt fairly standard for such an extended period of time (or, at least, less dream like than I was expecting given my experiences with some of Weerasethakul's other films). That said, a few scenes still stood out to a degree here and there, like a dog following Jessica around or her walking into an ensemble quartet. Once the action moved to the countryside though, it became one of the most sensually powerful films I've seen in a long time. With the inclusion of the fish scaler's motionless and extended 'sleep', the hand holding connection, or a particular genre changing set piece at the end which I won't dare reveal, the snail like pacing and gorgeous photography grew so surreal that the film became a sensual dream which froze time down to almost a standstill (as has been said of Joe's films numerous times in the past). Mixing audial and visual ambience with prolonged empty space won't work for everyone since the "nothing happens" crowd tends to trash these kinds of films (and to throw those people a bone, while I think their arguments are completely naïve, I will admit that I've struggled with a couple of Joe's films), but if you're able to get on board with the ethereal rhythms his films offer, you'll get such pleasing and unique results. Again, it wasn't until the final half hour where the film fully won me over. Given how moved I was by the final act though, I feel confident enough on this being improved by subsequent watches down the road to not mark its rating down. As an aside, if you don't think you'll be able to watch this in a theater, you should definitely watch it with headphones at the very least.

The Ballad of Narayama (1958)

Caught Between a Film and a Staged Play

[8/10 · 23 January 2024]

This is the second film I can recall seeing which feels caught between a film and a staged play (the first one is Olivier's "Henry V"). Given the reactions I've seen from some of my Letterboxd followers, not everyone will click with its incorporation of Kubuki theater, but I was very much on board with it. Given the narrative and the kinds of themes it covers (mortality and the questionable treatment of the elderly villagers), this could've easily fallen into schmaltziness or misery, but the visual abstraction of its style prevents it from dipping into those territories. Putting aside the artificial sets and the obvious handmade backdrops, probably the most divisive element of it is the voice over singing as I've seen plenty argue it grew tiring fairly quickly. That said, I found it to be the most unique element of the film. In spite of the dialogue describing what normally would've been emotionally blunt minutiae and character asides, I rarely got the sense it was trying to manipulate my emotions. In the context of the visual style, it fit very well in the film and helped the story find the right balance between alienating you from the proceedings and properly conveying the inner thoughts of the characters and the customs of the village really well. In spite of what I said though, the final act still managed to devastate me. It's hard to watch it without being moved in some way. The remake is pretty good and might click with people who couldn't get into the style of this film, but I prefer this one by a decent margin.

Mikey and Nicky (1976)

A compelling character study.

[8/10 · 1 December 2023]

I'm not sure I enjoyed this more than The Heartbreak Kid, which blew me away when I watched it a few years ago, but this film still lived up to my expectations. It chronicles a dying friendship on its last legs at the worst possible time for one of the two involved in it. Though Nicky initially comes off as panicked and not thinking straight due to his fear of being killed, the more you learn of his behavior (that he cheats on his wife, is openly racist, and assaults or threatens to assault most people he comes across), the clearer it becomes that he's a toxic individual who Mikey has been stuck with for years. Bearing witness to Mikey putting his own safety on the line to keep him out of trouble and putting up with his antics over and over again creates tension as to whether he'll finally reach his breaking point and betray his friend. Given the clear abuse and disloyalty Nicky shows to Mikey (as well as to the women in his life), it constantly seems like the film is about to build to this inevitable climax, yet in typical abuser fashion, Nicky appears to restore his relations by smooth talking and begging for forgiveness (and this pattern has likely gone on for years). But how long will these ingenuine apologies work? Since Nicky lacks empathy, the film could've just been a case of rooting for an inevitable ending from the start, but since Nicky's fate is basically in Mikey's hands, it puts him in a rough spot. He can either swallow his pride and stick by Nicky or sacrifice his morals and cause his death. Neither option is good and that Mikey is considerably more empathetic got me to hold out a bit of hope that he wouldn't lower himself. All these elements made Nicky's fate quite compelling to the point I was genuinely curious as to how the film was going to end. Overall, it was a really good character study and I'm glad to have finally watched something else in Elaine May's unfortunately small body of films.

The Piano Teacher (2001)

My favorite Haneke film.

[10/10 · 27 November 2023]

While I've enjoyed most of what I've seen from Haneke so far, my appreciation of his films mainly boils down to enjoying them more on a technical level rather than an emotional level (Cache and The White Ribbon have their moments though), so I was definitely not expecting this film to resonate with me as much as it did.

My initial takeaway was how well Huppert communicates the sexual repression and loneliness of her character. Erika's mother is domineering and expects perfection from her (interestingly enough, this behavior has strong parallels with her teaching style), yet she's unable to meet her high expectations. Since Erika has likely spent her entire life with her mother, her repression comes out in the form of porn addiction, paraphilia, and sadomasochism. With minimal contacts outside of work though, her tendencies turn out unfulfilled all too often, so there's no place for her to direct them but inwards. This leads to some disturbing set pieces of her urinating outside a car where a couple are making love and cutting her vagina with a razor. They tell you all there is to know about why she grows to latch onto Walter and demand so much from him.

Speaking of which, the love-making scenes between Erika and Walter are disturbing for reasons including but not limited to the paraphilic and sadomasochistic aspects of them. One thing which stood out to me is how Erik and Walter pursue their relationship at the expense of other people. The first half scratched the surface of this with the aforementioned urinating scene, but the second half shows the sheer lengths which the two of them go to satisfy their tendencies. Leaving a bathroom door wide open during a love-making session and having sex while Walter's hockey team members are right in the other room represent the lower end of extremity with this aspect. A more disturbing scene is a climactic scene of Walter forcing Erika's Mom into her bedroom so he can make love with Erika. Though Erika was clearly in a state of hesitancy at that point in the film, it's worth noting how she doesn't protest or speak up against Walter's rough treatment of her Mom at all. The most disturbing scene though is when Erika causes one of her students to cut her hand on broken glass for socializing with Walter. Though she clearly displayed a hard personality with her students prior to that, it's still a shocking moment, albeit one which feels true to her character.

What gave me the most anxiety though was how their hesitancy to commit to their sadomasochistic relationship gave a sense of escalation to the film. Erika and Walter are never on the same page on how to proceed with their relationship. Initially, Erika is the one eager to go along with it while Walter is hesitant. But then Walter begins to take Erika's role while she takes his, thus keeping an impasse between the pair. The frustration this causes them adds a sense of escalation to their relationship and gives the sense the film is building to something where either one of them or someone around them will be hurt. What we do get as a culmination may come off as abrupt, but the ambiguity it left gave me a couple disturbing outcomes to ponder over.

Overall, this is definitely my favorite Haneke film by a long shot and, given how well I responded to it, I'm tempted to revisit some of his other films to see if I'll warm up some more to them.

Sawdust and Tinsel (1953)

One of the Best Depictions of Human Suffering I've Seen

[9/10 · 14 November 2023]

Bergman depicts human suffering better than just about every director I'm familiar with and this is yet another reminder of his talents. I've seen the opening vignette argued as being the best part of the film by some reviewers and, though I wouldn't quite agree inasmuch to the extent I've seen some people argue this point, it's certainly a terrific sequence. In spite of the human suffering it depicts, Bergman also interjects humor into every frame of the opening, given the prominence of a clown bearing part of the blunt of this suffering. This doesn't overshadow the disturbing elements of it but rather acts as an ironic counterpoint. Though the tone of the succeeding film changes somewhat (in the sense that the humor is placed mostly in the background), the conflict between Albert, Anne, and Frans still maintain a handful of similarities with the opening, beyond the surface level pessimistic tones of both. In a vacuum, the emotional register of various scenes in the film should be blunt, but Bergman throws other contrasting elements into the mix which complicates what they get you to feel. For instance, Anne's mid film encounter with Frans should act as a euphoric release from her financial and relationship problems with Albert, yet his rough behavior confirms that he won't provide her with a way out. Also, the fight between Albert and Frans would normally be your typical "romantic hero beats up his lover's abusive partner" trope, yet the knowledge that Frans is just as bad, if not worse than Albert makes their fight surprisingly emotionally muted to the point you're not sure who to root for. Finally, Anne returning to Albert and giving him a faint smile seems to be done out of quiet resignation to her fate. Overall, it's an excellent film which I would rank pretty highly amongst Bergman's large body of films.

Arsenic and Old Lace (1944)

A perfect dark comedy.

[10/10 · 28 October 2023]

I was putting off watching this one for too long. Given all the great things I heard about it, I kept telling myself I would make room for it over the past couple Octobers, but I never watched it for some reason. Having finally seen it though, I can now confidently call it a new favorite. Like I expected, it's a memorable blend between horror and comedy, yet none of the characters blend into each other since they're all treated with different levels of levity. For instance, Aunt Abby and Aunt Martha make for a charming pair whose gleeful and lighthearted reactions to what they do act as a perfect comedic counterbalance to the horror elements to the film. Their explanation of how they've murdered a dozen people in an early scene, for instance, runs a fine line between ruining this portrayal of them, yet the punchline like way they go about revealing their true colors keeps humor firmly at the forefront of that sequence. Meanwhile, Teddy's lack of awareness over his role in the murders adds a subtle undercurrent of darkness to his lighthearted behavior which allows his character to blend both genres to a small degree. Jonathan, however, acts as the perfect counterbalance to the lighter elements of the film. Initially, I was unaware that a character like him would be thrown into the mix, but he came close to stealing the show. His creepy physical appearance/behavior, mixed with some great camerawork on his face, work in harmony to make him one of the most memorable horror film characters (or horror adjacent, depending on how you prefer to categorize this film) I can think of. Peter Lorre as Dr. Einstein didn't stick out quite as much by comparison, but his intimidation and sense of powerless over Jonathan caused him to leave a decent impact as well. This leaves Cary Grant who gives one of the best comedic performances I can think of. His exaggerated reaction to what goes on around him, shown in his eyes, facial expressions, and occasional shrieks, were priceless and got me in stiches more than a few times. Give the hype I heard about this film, I was worried it wouldn't be able to live up to my expectations, but it ended up surpassing them entirely.

Heimat: A Chronicle of Germany (1984)

A truly epic film.

[8/10 · 6 October 2023]

Edgar Reitz blends the scope of the political history his film spans and the sheer breadth of the characters who occupy it better than any film I've ever seen. Nothing I can think of, not The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, not Little Big Man, not The Battle of Algiers, not The Travelling Players, is able to match the history of a country (over 60 years worth, in this case) with an enormous, branching cast of characters quite as seamlessly as this one. As the initial family we're introduced to in the opening grows up, branches off into numerous directions, and starts their own families, the film's scope continues to increase in scale. This culminates in the final episode where we see the full outcome of how much the initial family tree in the first episode has branched out (sobering shots of gravestones and family albums in the last episode contain a strong level of emotional weight). Though billed as the main character and listed first in the credits of each episode (for the 7 part release I watched, at least), Maria is clearly just as secondary as the next character and is often overshadowed by other characters in certain episodes. Making her a supporting character in her own film though is just a way to emphasize the film's scope by providing someone to remind you of the family's size whenever she reenters the film. Aside from the scope, the vivid personalities who occupy the film also remained fresh in my mind throughout the several days I spent with them. From the one eyed boy whose disability makes him a perfect sharpshooter, to the romanticized portrayal of the pedophilic relationship between Hermann and Klärchen which is born from centering that sub plot from both their perspectives, to the somewhat mysterious character of Paul who's unable to commit himself to Maria and spends most of his life away from her, to the elderly narrator who keeps us on top of the various stories and sub stories in the film, their colorful personalities contain such a wide variation of emotions which kept the film fresh, all in spite of the episodes topping 15 hours. Even the cinematography's shifts between black and white and color, though Reitz said this was done randomly to fit whichever palette would suit each scene/shot the best, add an extra layer of variation to the film (some shots also predate Sin City's visual style by several years). This isn't the easiest film to track down (it's virtually impossible to find online and some DVDs for it can be $50 or more), but if you're able to come across it, I would highly recommend giving it a go.

The Deer Hunter (1978)

One of the most powerful films ever made about PTSD

[9/10 · 18 September 2023]

NOTE: This isn't my first time watching this film, nor was this a rewatch. I first watched it a year or two ago and decided to repost a summary I wrote on it on Movie Forums.

...it excels at portraying the dehumanizing effect of war and the various long-term effects it has on those who survive it. I think the main criticism the film gets is that it takes too long to get going, but the point of the first hour (as with Cimino's Heaven's Gate to an extent), is to establish the rhythms of the town and give us a sense of what's going to be disrupted. Without it, the final scene (plus some other significant scenes in the final hour) would have nearly no emotional weight. You need to get a feel of De Niro's relationship with his friends before we see it challenged. The second hour doesn't warrant quite as much defending as the emotional intensity of the war scenes, mixed with De Niro's performance, tell you all you need to know about how war is hell. No exposition is necessary for you to figure out that De Niro and his friends won't ever be the same again. Though I had seen parts of the Russian Roulette sequence prior to watching the film, it still managed to disturb me. The only aspect which warrants some defending is the admittedly one-sided depiction of the war. All the Americans soldiers, while not necessarily portrayed as noble, are portrayed in a positive light, while all the Vietnam soldiers (as well as the civilians) are portrayed in an unflattering way. I've always been torn on this aspect. On one hand, given how PTSD is a central theme of the final act, it makes sense to portray their experience in Vietnam as pure, unrelenting terror (including scenes of the Vietnam soldiers/civilians acting noble would've diluted the power of the final third). On the other hand though, it wouldn't have hurt the film to portray bad/unhinged behavior from the American soldiers as well. In short, I'm not as vehement with this criticism as some people are (on a visceral level, I was moved), but I do understand why people would take issue with it. The final hour probably requires the least amount of defending. This is where the carefully constructed portrait of the town and the relationships De Niro had with all the characters from the first hour slowly falls apart and is challenged by his experiences in the war. The reason the final hour holds so much weight is because of the first hour. If it wasn't for that (or if it was shortened), seeing De Niro's PTSD challenge his relations with the same people he was so close to in the first hour would've been too emotionally cold to watch. The first hour was exactly what the film needed to suit the final hour and solidify its status as a great film. Really though, if you look at the film as a whole and consider how the combat scenes during the war (their arrival in Vietnam and the Russian Roulette sequence) last no more than 20 minutes, it should be obvious that depicting wall-to-wall action wasn't the point of the film. In order for one to fully appreciate what Cimino did, you need to look at it through the lens of a non-combat war film.

The 47 Ronin (1941)

Not an easy watch, but fascinating when you factor in historical context.

[7/10 · 10 September 2023]

Not an easy watch and not the kind of film I can see myself revisiting anytime soon, but as a subversive film which broke just about every rule I expected it to follow when I first discovered it, I found it pretty fascinating. Reading the plot summaries for the film, one may find potential for it to predate "Seven Samurai" in terms of scope, but what you instead get is practically no action and nearly four hours of conversations about what's either going to happen or what has already happened offscreen. Reading this, you've likely already written the film off, but while I wasn't always engaged by the unrelenting theatrical conversations, I still enjoyed witnessing the breadth of details discussed in the film, like the numerous characters both directly and indirectly involved in the plot, the intricacies of them planning their revenge, or the way their plan conflicts with their code of honor. This manages to give the sense that the environment is fully formed, even if you don't get to see much of it. Which is a rather impressive feat given this is essentially an action-less action film. If you're still baffled by the film's tone though, reading up on the historical background provides some additional context to its uncompromising style. During WWII, Mizoguchi was forced to create this film by the government. They wanted it to be a propagandistic film which would double as a morale booster and as justification for the expansionism and imperialism Japan was involved in during the war. Given this background, completely omitting action from the film could be read as a subversive move by Mizoguchi so that he could simultaneously comply and disobey his orders by the government. This also gives a double meaning to the opening preface of "Defend the Homes of Those Who Fight for a Greater Asia" in the opening, in the sense it's referencing the Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere (GEACPS), a pan-Asian union which was formed in an attempt to resist the threat of imperialism during WWII. So, while I'd still put this film in the "I enjoyed thinking about it later more than actually watching it" pile, I would still recommend it if you think you're up for the task.

Hacksaw Ridge (2016)

How not to make an anti-war film.

[3/10 · 2 September 2023]

This film should be used as a model example of everything you should avoid when making an anti-war film. This is what results from someone who's clearly never read or understood François Truffaut's musings on anti-war and doesn't understand that the tone of an anti-war film, as well as its themes, both need to be anti-war for this to work. There is a clear disconnect between the excitement and high energy of the action scenes and the anti-war themes which run throughout the film. Not only is the action exciting though, but I'd also describe it as over-the-top given the abundance of slow motion and the occasional ridiculous set pieces such as using a dead soldiers body as a meat shield, destroying entire bunkers with explosives, waves of soldiers being consumed by a wall of fire, or grenades being swatted out of the air (yes, I know Doss actually did this in real life, but not in dramatic slow motion like he did in the film). Simply put, you can't pass your film off as anti-war, while simultaneously including lengthy sequences of action which feel like a blend between a superhero movie and a Zach Snyder film. Granted, virtually all the action occurs in the second half, but the first half didn't impress me much either. The building romance between Doss and Dorothy in the first half hour is hobbled by some cheesy dialogue, much of which comes off as corny pick-up lines taken straight out of a chick flick. On the plus side, the second half hour at the boot camp is probably the strongest portion of the film (or the least glaringly flawed) since the conflict between Doss and the rest of his recruits was somewhat engaging to watch (even though I wasn't in love with this sequence or anything). Also, while I generally don't pay attention to acting, I felt Garfield's soft-spoken voice fit his character really well. As a whole though, the bad far outweighed the good and, given a couple war films we got in the years after this was released like "1917" and "All Quiet on the Western Front" which actually understood anti-war, this film seems pretty unremarkable and disposable by comparison.

The Sun Shines Bright (1953)

Ford's heart is in the right place, but the message is naive.

[6/10 · 23 August 2023]

An atypical John Ford Western. Not solely due to the strong de-emphasis of gunfighting, but also due to the fractured sense of community. Plagued by racial tensions and economic disparity, those elements serve to test the comradeship of the town. While Bill Priest is portrayed as the agent of change, what's made clear is that turning the town around requires more than just the efforts of one man. Everyone else needs to find forgiveness in each other and recognize their mistakes in order for there to be an understanding. Such themes are complicated when the film adopts some somewhat sterotypical depictions of the black characters in the film (such as the disproportionately spooked black character trope), and I also found a central romance sub-plot unnecessary, but I don't know that Ford's primary goal was to necessarily create a masterpiece so much as correcting a prior mistake. Though I don't believe this was billed as a remake (someone can correct me on this if that's untrue), "The Sun Shines Bright" adapts some of the same material in John Ford's earlier film "Judge Priest", along with some of the same characters. Calling "The Sun Shines Bright" a retread of the earlier film's themes though misses the point as there's a crucial difference between both films. Ford initially wanted to include a scene of an attempted lynching (as well as a condemnation of the act) in "Judge Priest", but this scene was cut by 20th Century Fox. Once studio intervention was no longer a threat nearly two decades later though, Ford then went on to direct the film he originally intended to make, along with the aforementioned scene.

While I respect what Ford was going for though and while I recognize that his heart was in the right place, his intentions came off as naive. The film establishes early on that women and people of color in the town are walking on thin ice and one small misstep could put their lives in danger. Take an early scene where a black character has to stop another black character from unknowingly playing a Yankee song to a group of Confederate veterans. This should set you up for the tone of the rest of the film. Unfortuately, we instead get an outdated idea that an authority figure with a good sense of morals and justice is all that's needed to fix the hierarchical and systemic problems with the town and turn it into a utopia, and this idea is just pure fantasy. If anyone from the upper class wishes to provide a perfect solution to systemic racism, they first need to recognize their complicity in the hierarchical system which still exists today. Ford didn't properly do this. After the two main conflicts are resolved in the film, the resulting, supposed fixed society is still hampered by the same hierarchy and status quo which engendered those issues in the first place. Overall, Ford certainly has good intentions. His message just wasn't well-thought out.

Fish Tank (2009)

A powerful character study.

[8/10 · 29 July 2023]

It's not hard to understand Mia's fixation of Connor. Whether you're referring to her conflict with her younger sister, the lack of attention she receives from her mother, or her isolation from other people her age, finding someone to latch on to was important for her. Connor was the exact person to do that and act as the parental figure she needed since he showed her more kindness than her family did. Or, at least, this is your initial impression of him. The more you see of his behavior (giving her money to buy alcohol underage, killing a fish around her, having varous one-night stands with her mother, touching her suggestively when carrying her to bed), the more rough around the edges he seems. Though subtle at first, his questionable behavior culminates in their sex scene and his reaction after the fact which makes the film's emotional core all the more profound. Mia needs love and attention more than anything, but nobody she comes across is able to provide her with such, nor act as an appropriate role model or parental figure. In fact, few scenes have gotten to me as much as her synchronized dancing session with her family at the end. It's the first time in the film the three of them bond together, showing they could've potentially gotten along with each other in the right setting, except it happened too late at that point. While Mia isn't the most likable character, you still feel sympathy for her as her compassion (caring for the safety of a horse) and her ambitions (starting a successful career as a dancer) are made clear and act as counterpoints to her rough-on-the-surface, volatile behavior. Overall, it's a powerful film which I won't be forgetting about anytime soon.

Heaven's Gate (1980)

Not without its flaws, but a compelling film nonetheless.

[7/10 · 16 July 2023]

Given its sprawling, padded out runtime, it's not hard to figure out why this is one of the most divisive cult films out there. Did it have to be 3.5 hours long? No. Was there a ton of padding to draw out the film? Of course. Are these inherently problematic elements though? Not necessarily, no.

While one could certainly call the film slow (as much as I hate using that word), I prefer to describe it as patient. There are multiple ways to tell a story. Not every film should be required to follow the same narrative progression to get to the end. Having the pacing meander is another valid approach to storytelling. Is there a line where this could go too far? Probably. Am I one to determine what that line is? Absolutely not. Trying to come up with a set in stone rule for how long a film can be allowed to meander before it becomes a flaw (especially if you're trying to nail down an exact number of minutes the film has to commit to) would be ridiculously hard to determine, vary depending on the attention span and taste of the person deciding it, and quite frankly wouldn't be worth the effort of doing so.

While one could argue that this film goes too far pacing-wise, the more pressing question I ask myself when watching meandering films is whether they offer enough in the way of mood, style, feel, etc. To keep me engaged. All things considered, this film did an alright job at that. First things first, I think the main argument one could make towards its length is that it serves to paint a vivid portrait of the town's rhythms and give us a sense of what's going to be disrupted (the same argument could be made for the divisive first hour of The Deer Hunter). While I admired what Cimino did, I think The Deer Hunter handled this pacing style better. Since the threat of Canton's posse was made clear before the big chunk of padding, taking focus away from that and shifting to a more relaxed tone took me out of the film for most of the middle act since a significant amount of narrative tension was lost in the process. This wasn't an issue with The Deer Hunter as, while the first act had the inevitability of the Vietnam War, it mainly loomed in the background while the relaxed and rhythmic vibes of the town were at the forefront.

Still though, the prolonged middle act was able to keep me on board for a few reasons. For instance, with the exception of The Searchers, it's probably the most gorgeous Western I've ever seen (it's a shame the film wasn't on the Criteron Channel when I watched it). The landscape/panoramic shots are beautiful to look at and, with the abundance of flowers in some shots, bordered on fantasy at times. Given that Westerns are more reliant on the scenic qualities of their environments than most other genres, this is a big strength. A few of the side characters were also decently compelling. Nate Champion's arc is well-done, John Hurt gives his character enough humanity to balance out his pathetic aspects, and Ella Watson's able-bodied portrayal fit the action-centric second half really well. Jim Averill is perhaps the least colorful of those characters, but this didn't bother me much. The action scenes in the second half probably don't warrant much defending (aside from the unfortunate on-set animal cruelty). They're tehnically impressive, differentiate from each other significantly in terms of set pieces, and in the case of the wood wagon fight at the end (how did the immigrants even build all that in one night?), rather jaw-dropping given the amount of craft on display.

I originally gave this film a slightly lower rating, but in retrospect, I decided to bump it up a notch. I think the "too slow" criticisms levied at it aren't entirely fair or sound, so even though it's not without its flaws, I'm okay with giving it this extra bit of support. Really, if you loved The Deer Hunter, you should find plenty to enjoy with this film.

The Swimmer (1968)

A complex film full of dread.

[8/10 · 10 July 2023]

I had this film on my radar for quite a while as I heard nothing but great things about it. Having finally watched it, it lived up to my expectations as, from the first moment of the fluid camera work and the juxtaposition of Lancaster's burly demeanor and his gentle curiosity as he explored the woods, I was hooked. The subtle undercurrent of dread grabbed me right away and refused to let up. The first act, for instance, matched Ned's emotional journey very well. Though everything about it seemed serene at first glance, something felt off the more I thought about it. The opening credit music felt somewhat melancholy, the energetic swells of the soundtrack when Ned jumped into the first pool hinted that he had already reached his emotional climax, and the perplexed reaction Ned's friends had towards his plan suggested they knew troubling things about his past which Ned himself seemed to be in denial of. Since the various pools he frequented throughout the day provided us with more insight towards his prior mistakes, it's as if a dark cloud constantly loomed over him. Considering how every pool added to his disillusionment and that he had to descend to get to them (he started out at the top of the valley), the film became an allegory about the dark side of the American dream. The further he moved down the valley, the more his pristine dropped until he got to a point where he no longer fit into society. Like many other people of his social status, finding success means you may become absorbed in egotistical and material shallowness in the process. Though you may be living a dream at one point, it can quickly turn into a nightmare once you give into unethical and self-destructive urges. This became clearer for Ned the further he descended. Given the casting of Burt Lancaster (an actor who was famous for his looks), the film also doubles as a critique of masculinity. Ned's tough guy demeanor seems to represent masculinity or manliness (in addition to how he spends practically the entire film in his swim trunks), but the more you learn about his past, the more pathetic he seems and the clearer it becomes that his rough outer appearance is used as an attempt to mask his flaws. The final scene could be criticised as being too literal, but I think the culmination to the film was inevitable and the only true ending it could've had. Topped with some gorgeous nature photography and cross-dissolves, this film was right up my alley and I definitely look forward to revisiting it at some point.

La Terra Trema (1948)

Simultaneously oppressive and sensual.

[8/10 · 14 June 2023]

"La Terra Trema" is a sobering reminder about the inescapable nature of capitalism. Though you can hope to break free from the oppressive restraints of the system, you'll likely find something new to be worried about due to the lack of alternative options. Antonio and his family tried to find freedom but were punished for it. Visconti matches these themes very well with a highly oppressive atmosphere which hangs over the film. Virtually the entire film takes place inside the fishing village and there's hardly a scene where we get to venture outside of it. Of course, the outskirts of the village are referred to with the prison and bank scenes, but the camera stays locked in place. Even the fishing scenes themselves are often shown from the perspectives of the shorelines overlooking the ocean rather than the boats themselves (admittedly, I would've liked to see the storm sequence up close, but thematically speaking, I understand why it was shot the way it was). As a result, this rigid formalism frequently feels like it's suffocating the characters and infusing the village with a subtle undercurrent of claustrophobia. There's a certain kind of sadness which looms throughout the film, both thematically and stylistically, and we hardly get a break from it. In spite of these themes though, Visconti also observes the fishermen with a level of sensuality. This is far from his only film which does this as a handful of male actors Visconti worked with throughout his career, like Burt Lancaster, Alain Delon, Farley Granger, and Jean Marais, were iconic for their looks. Antonio Arcidiacono is, of course, far less well-known than all of them, but the same could be said for him in this film. Piloting boats in the sun, hauling in loads of fish, returning to the shore covered in sweat - Visconti doesn't forget to find elegance in such an oppressive environment. The depiction of men doesn't boil down to them being sexualized though. Rather, you get the sense that he has an innate understanding of their physicality - as well as the emotional/situational characteristics thereof - which is able to move you in a certain way which most other director's aren't quite able to capture. In 1962, Sight & Sound ranked this as the 9th best film ever made, but from a modern standpoint, it's slowly becoming a forgotten classic. Here's hoping it someday sees a resurgance though as, while it isn't quite my faorite Visconti, I would definitely consider it as a close second pick.

Ariel (1988)

A dark and deadpan comedy.

[8/10 · 31 May 2023]

Did anyone else immediately think of The Little Mermaid after reading the film's title or was it just me?

The Match Factory Girl is the only other film I've seen from Aki Kaurismäki and, while I wasn't quite sure what to make of it at the time, this film helped me to get a better grasp on his style of dark and deadpan comedy. In the first 15 minutes, Taisto loses his job, his father commits suicide, and his entire life savings are stolen from him. And that's only the beginning of his troubles! While Robert Bresson has a similar style of depicting characters suffering/being hurt repeatedly, both directors are able to depict this without wallowing in misery. From a stylistic standpoint at least. Throughout this film and The Match Factory Girl, Kaurismäki mainly focuses on the reactions, or lack thereof, of the main characters. Taisto is stuck in a low-paying job, he's constantly on the move, and it's unlikely he'll ever dig himself out of his rut. In spite of every adversity he goes through though, he emerges from them seemingly unharmed. Which isn't to say he's devoid of emotions by any means (his dreams of finding a better future are made clear at a few points in the film), but that he's no longer 'impressed' by them. His misfortunes, though they clearly pile up and weigh on him, are an everyday reality for him. One scene, for instance, shows Taisto lying on a beach while his jeans and leather shoes are resting right smack in the water. It's a weird and uncomfortable position to rest in for sure, but he had already been through much, much worse at that point, so what's the big deal of getting his clothing wet? Given this, one could watch the film and laugh at Taisto's misfortunes, but I would argue this misses part of the film's point. Because Kaurismäki also displays a great deal of empathy for his struggles. He's stuck in the lower class, has little hope of improving his social status, and (like most people, I would imagine) wants to live a good life. Except bad decisions and misfortunes constantly ruin his dreams time and time again. Regardless of whether you've experienced the same misfortunes as him, his dreams and worries are all too relatable to not feel sympathy for his plight. But Kaurismäki never goes overboard with this since Taisto's stoicism prevents the film from dipping into sentimentality. I imagine Kaurismäki will be an acquired taste for most people since the contradictory elements of his style won't gel with everyone, but I think the tonal clash between the onscreen misery and Taisto's stoic reaction throughout it pair very well together.

Raising Arizona (1987)

A great film about the anxieties of parenting.

[9/10 · 27 May 2023]

This is yet another Coen brothers film I would consider great. While the overall kidnapping plot is memorable, I also found myself taken in by the smaller moments in the film which reaffirmed the various difficulties/anxieties of being a parent. Whether you're referring to H. I. attempting to take a family portrait, Ed's reaction to seeing their baby for the first time, or Glen's unruly family causing problems throughout H. I.'s property, there's a lot which leaves an impression on you. In addition to these small moments, a wide array of colorful characters populate H. I.'s and Ed's lives. There are prison escapees Gale and Evelle, furniture magnate Nathan Arizona, Glen's aforementioned unruly family, and a mysterious biker who attempts to rescue Nathan's kid. All these characters are vital to the plot as they all directly interfere with and complicate H. I.'s and Ed's wishes to start a family in one way or another. These subscenes and characters suit the film's parental themes really well and pair nicely with the anxieties/guilt H. I. and Ed have from the kidnapping. Speaking of which, though they're not the most likable characters, we at least get the only true ending for them (and some of the other side characters) which the film could've had, in typical Coen brothers fashion. The balance of hope and uncertainty we get suits their remorse over their crimes very well. The film is also quite fun as the various chase/fight scenes spread throughout are well-choreographed and consistently inventive with the set pieces and tension on display. Overall, this film really struck a chord with me and I wouldn't mind rewatching it sometime in the future.

Death Proof (2007)

It has its critics, but I'm a big fan.

[8/10 · 13 May 2023]

While this is often considered to be Tarantino's worst film (even Tarantino himself admitted it's his weakest film), I've always had a strong appreciation for it. Most negative reviews I've come across praise the climaxes to both halves, Kurt Russell's performance, and the grainy look of the film, but criticize the film for being too talky and too slow. I don't think these criticisms are entirely sound though and don't matter a whole lot in the grand scheme of what the film gets right.

My main takeaway was the contrast between the girls in the first half and those in the second half of the film. The girls in the first half seem rather standard for lack of a better word and don't seem much like threats for Mike. Due to this, he's easily able to kill them and, by the end of the first half, they just feel like some other ordinary kills for Mike. The characterizations of the girls in the second half though are vastly different. Two out of the three girls involved in the car chase are stunt actors themselves and their behavior (leaving one of their friends behind to presumably be sexually assaulted, driving at a high speed while one of them is fastened to the car's hood, and going full vigilante in the final act as they pursue Mike, all the while endangering the lives of multiple other people in the process) is far more insane than what we see from the girls in the first half. That they out-crazy Mike (or, at least, do a much better job at matching his unhinged behavior) is why they survive, while the first set of girls all perish.

I also consider Stuntman Mike to be a great horror villain as, like Dracula and the villain in The Vanishing, he presents himself as a normal person in public. He seems friendly, he's talkative, and the girls in the first half find him charming. The way he lures his first victim into his car with his charm and snappy dialogue is rather unnerving to watch unfold. This buildup makes both him revealing his true colors to Pam and especially his breakdown in the final act all the more shocking.

An element which doesn't require much defending is the technical craft (even most naysayers tend to agree it's one of the film's strengths). The aforementioned grainy look of the picture does a fine job at matching the cheaply-made look of grindhouse films and, pared with the leisurely pacing, it's hard not to think Tarantino knocks it out of the park. Also, the climactic action scenes to both halves are equal parts intense and thrilling. The car chase at the end, in particular, is one of the best car chases I've ever seen in film.

Overall, I would definitely include this in my top 3 Tarantino films and, while I get that some viewers may find it too slow, I think it does a handful of interesting things and there's quite a bit to unpack from it which isn't often brought up.

Hapax Legomena III: Critical Mass (1971)

An excellent representation of senseless argumantation.

[9/10 · 9 May 2023]

Prolonged scenes of yelling usually wear me down, but the stylistic elements Frampton utilizes here convey the meaningless of arguments between couples really well. The repetition of the dialogue matches the repetitive nature of their yelling. The audio not matching up with the picture represents how, though the couple is saying a lot of words, they're not meeting eye to eye or saying anything of substance. The various cuts to black represent how they're just blindly yelling at each other (the improvised dialogue matches this element really well). Overall, it's my favorite film I've seen from Frampton so far.