Heckerling’s witty spin on Austen’s “Emma” (a novel about the perils of match-making and injecting yourself into situations in which you don’t belong) has remained a perennial favorite not only because it’s a sensible freshening on a classic tale, but because it allows for thus much more over and above the Austen-issued drama.
We get it -- there's quite a bit movies in that "Suggested For yourself" area of your streaming queue, but How can you sift through every one of the straight-to-DVD white gay rom coms starring D-list celebs to find something of true substance?
Yang’s typically preset but unfussy gaze watches the events unfold across the backdrop of fifties and early-‘60s Taipei, a time of encroaching democratic reform when Taiwan still remained under martial regulation plus the shadow of Chinese Communism looms over all. The currents of Si’r’s soul — sullied by gang life but also stirred by a romance with Ming, the girlfriend of 1 of its lifeless leaders — feel nationwide in scale.
The terror of “the footage” derived from watching the almost pathologically ambitious Heather (Heather Donahue) begin to deteriorate as she and her and her crew members Josh (Joshua Leonard) and Mike (Michael C. Williams) get lost within the forest. Our disbelief was effectively suppressed by a DYI aesthetic that interspersed reduced-quality video with 16mm testimonials, each giving validity into the nonfiction concept in their have way.
The movie was encouraged by a true story in Iran and stars the actual family members who went through it. Mere days after the news item broke, Makhmalbaf turned her camera on the family and began to record them, directing them to reenact specified scenes dependant on a script. The ethical inquiries raised by such a technique are complex.
A married male falling in love with another man was considered scandalous and potentially career-decimating movie fare from the early ’80s. This unconventional (with the time) love triangle featuring Charlie’s Angels
The movie is a quiet meditation around the loneliness of being gay inside a repressed, rural society that, while not as high-profile as Brokeback Mountain,
Sure, the Coens take almost fetishistic pleasure during the genre tropes: Con person maneuvering, tough guy doublespeak, plus a hero who plays the game better than anyone else, all big asses of them wrapped into a gloriously serpentine plot. And but the very conclude with the film — which climaxes with one of the greatest last shots with the ’90s — reveals just how cold and empty that game has been for most on the characters involved.
No supernatural being or predator enters a single body of this visually affordable affair, though the committed turns of its stars as they descend into insanity, along with the piercing sounds of horrific events that we’re pressured to assume in lieu of seeing them for ourselves, are still more than ample to instill a visceral dread.
A poor, overlooked movie obsessive who only feels seen from the ashemale neo-realism of his country’s countrywide 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 tubsexer in the affluent Iranian family where he “wanted to shoot his next film” — Sabzian arouses the interest of the (very) different regional auteur who’s fascinated by his story, by its inherently cinematic deception, and through the counter-intuitive possibility that it presents: If Abbas Kiarostami staged a documentary around this gentleman’s fraud, he could effectively cast Sabzian as the lead character of the movie that Sabzian experienced always wanted someone to make about his suffering.
Disappointed from the interminable post-production of “Ashes of Time” and itching to receive out on the editing room, Wong Kar-wai strike the streets of Hong Kong and — in the blitz of pent-up creative imagination — slapped together on the list of most earth-shaking films of its decade in less than two months.
The ’90s began with a revolt against the kind of bland Hollywood solution that people might destroy to discover in theaters today, creaking open a small window of time in which a more commercially viable American impartial cinema began seeping into mainstream fare. Young and exciting directors, many of whom at the moment are dropmms major auteurs and perennial IndieWire favorites, were given the methods to make multiple films — some of them on massive scales.
Most likely it’s fitting that a road movie — the ultimate road movie — exists in so many different iterations, each longer than the next, spliced together from other iterations that together create a feeling of the grand cohesive whole. There is beauty in its meandering quality, its target not on the sort of conclude-of-the-world plotting that would have Gerard Butler foaming at the mouth, but within the comfort of friends, lovers, family, acquaintances, and strangers just hanging out. —ES
Time seems to have stood still in this place with its black-and-white Tv set hotmail sign in set and rotary phone, a couple of lonely pumpjacks groaning outside furnishing the only sound or movement for miles. (A “Make America Great Again” sticker on the back of the beat-up motor vehicle is vaguely amusing but seems gratuitous, and it shakes us from the film’s foggy mood.)