Not a fan of looking up videos or articles to have a movie explained to me. I'd rather I grow separately from my cinematic experiences, in order for that growth to inform my reading of a film.
I do like your enthusiasm for Refn. It's refreshing to see someone being positive about something they just love.
Regarding OGF: I've been accused of many things but not taking the time to break down every single thing I watch? That's a first. I broke down OGF from whatever I could muster way back, even though I didn't care for it:
It's here if you can't find it, and I still think it ain't worth shit but the effort I put in:
I thought it was entirely, almost glaringly obviously, a Freudian nightmare. It takes almost all his theories and shoves them into one film. Julian is the younger child with the need to satisfy his mother (sexually, subconsciously), because the mother constantly reminds him of his true home, her womb. It is hinted that that their relationship stems from the Oedipal complex - the father died, probably by one of the sons (likely Billy) because they both wanted to screw their mother, and with that in mind killed their father. According to the Oedipal complex, a son kills the father fearing they will be castrated by him for wanting the mother sexually.
The mother hence manipulates them throughout their lives. Billy becomes the masculine one. Julian more subdued. This is clear in the scene where she humiliates Julian by comparing his penis to his older brother's. Once the older brother dies, Julian now has the chance to find his way back to his mother's affections. That's why he chooses to fight (and why she watches): his innate masculinity now has a chance to shine.
But he fails. So his masculinity is fruitless. It is useless. He gives himself one last desperate chance to return to her womb when she dies by slicing her uterus open and putting his hands in them. But it isn't enough. Knowing his masculinity is as good as useless, he goes to Chang for his punishment: symbolic castration (removal of hands in this world because in this world, it is the hands that denote power, in our world men feel powerful based on their penis sizes), which he should have received from his father in an Oedipal sense.
I saw Chang as God as well, a God of archaic justice, like you did. Now that his father was dead, who better than God himself (Chang) to allow him to rid him of his masculinity?
Trying is not a problem, for me. I'll dissect the shit out of toast if it's making a point. It's inherently more interesting to discuss something that doesn't tell all (Fury Road), but it's difficult to even start with a film whose mode of function is a literal subversion of function itself. It becomes a semiotic circle jerk, which is... OK, I guess? For instance, you could easily say I'm "wrong" in my interpretation of OGF, but the lack of actual cause-and-effect cinematic language would mean we're both right (and wrong), and that's only fun for so long.
I do understand it being a personal experience. Genuinely.
Fair enough. I'm admittedly the complete opposite. If I watch an "artsy" film and I feel i'm having a hard time deciphering certain things, I hop on the internet eventually to read discussions. Ironically though, the one film that it seems no one has really deciphered (Lost Highway) is one of my all time favorites, so I guess my relationship with films is somewhat inscrutable
Your interpretation seems pretty on point. If you can understand the film and still dislike it, cool, to each their own. Its just kind of absurd to me how many people there are who dismiss it before doing what you did. Whether by their own means or through other sources, deciphering the intricacies of the film.
Well luckily Ricky just did my job for me lol his analyzation is pretty spot on. I think the only thing he failed to put emphasis on that I thought was a HUGE part of the film was Julian's struggle with the love for his mother and knowing how wrong the life hes leading is. Thus the Chang fight scene, the metaphor for wanting to 'box with God' for the hand he is dealt, and the ending when Chang has washed away his sins through cutting off his hands and the background reflecting it as a positive experience for Julian
I used to really enjoy watching movies, but got out of it for a while. Had the urge to binge watch some so here are my thoughts on what I watched over the weekend:
10 Cloverfield Lane: Loved this movie. Well, like everyone else I guess I loved everything about it with the exception of the ending. Cut the last 10 minutes off and call it something different as far as I'm concerned and it would be even higher on my list. John Goodman nailed it. Seriously felt like he could snap at any moment and played the perfect tinfoil hat dude.
13 Hours: I liked this movie. I think it did a good job of painting a grim picture. I would put it somewhere between Black Hawk Down (high side) and American Sniper. It hits you in the stomach, but not as bad as BHD in my opinion. Its also good to see the guy from The Office play a role besides "Hey, I'm the smart ass from The Office."
The Hateful Eight: Love Tarantino and I dug this movie, but I wouldn't say its one of his best works. Looks beautiful, has the Tarantino feel, but it just is missing something.
The Revenant: I have to admit, during the first hour I thought to myself "Really, this is what he wont he Oscar for?" but then out of nowhere I was totally into it. First movie in along time that felt taxing to watch. By the end of it, I was just happy it was over, in a good way. You really felt for the character.
As a stylistic endeavor, Only God Forgives hits a mega cinematic sweet note for me. Like straight up Middle C yo. The Neon Demon is more of the same. Actually about to see it again for a third time in a few minutes. It may not end up being my favorite film of the year, but it will definitely be one of my favorite cinematic experiences of the year.
Also, can I just put this out there: Despite some of our rifts in the past, I totally love the way @Ricky13 writes about films, whether I agree or disagree.
Rewatched Hannibal bc the people I live with now hadn't seen it... I think Season 1 was the best overall, Season 2 had the best moments, while Season 3 declined... like, it was good as a follow-up, it was good if you just loved Hannibal already, but there was too much self-indulgence and too many artistic shots that felt forced in the beginning, whereas at the end of Season 2 they didn't feel forced.
Still, some of my favorite moments are from Season 3, ep6 when Will walks in, that music, then Hannibal telling him, "You dropped your forgiveness. You forgive like God forgives," and Will says, "Does God gloat?" And Hannibal smiles this shit-eating-grin, says "Often," with the most satisfaction ever. That might be my favorite moment of any show ever, but there's too many accents, and the dialogue is not as good as the first 2 seasons.
The end of Season 3 starts to pick up though, last 4-5 episodes, even though I don't care for the Red Dragon very much.
Just watched Pierrot Le Fou, thought it was really good and an interesting take on those sort of stories, the whole Bonny & Clyde, lovers on the run thing. When I was telling my mate to watch it I told him that it's kind of like Badlands but more...french, and absurd haha. I very much liked the style, the journal that Pierrot keeps the whole time, the narrators speaking over the top of each other and so on, it gave the film a very 'natural' feeling, not that the film was realistic in any way, but it had a certain kind of flow too it. Visually the film looked great too, it reminded me of Le Mépris and according to google it was the same cinematographer which isn't surprising.
Think I'll watch La Chinoise next, though tonight I am going to see Nostalghia in the cinema which should be good.
Also, can I just put this out there: Despite some of our rifts in the past, I totally love the way @Ricky13 writes about films, whether I agree or disagree.
Independance Day 2 is garbage. Garbage. Garbage. Garbage. Fucking garbage. Abysmal garbage. ****-sucking garbage. One of the worst cinema experiences of my life. I loathed every excruciating second of it.
It's worse than Thor 2!
And the sad thing is -- I voted to see Neon Demon. But nooooo. My retarded troglodyte "friends" all wanted to see Independance Day 2. Fuck that was unbearable. FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!!
Independance Day 2 is garbage. Garbage. Garbage. Garbage. Fucking garbage. Abysmal garbage. ****-sucking garbage. One of the worst cinema experiences of my life. I loathed every excruciating second of it.
It's worse than Thor 2!
And the sad thing is -- I voted to see Neon Demon. But nooooo. My retarded troglodyte "friends" all wanted to see Independance Day 2. Fuck that was unbearable. FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!!
Spotlight was sooooo boring. The amazing cast had hardly any conflict to work with, and when there's some it's basically someone telling Ruffalo that the documents are sensitive and "please don't look into it." They were also directed to speak weird as hell for some dumb reason.
This movie is incredibly average. Can't believe the universal praise.
Splurge post! Watched a lot lately so I need to get some thoughts down before they dry up.
First thing: I owed shadow a timely watch of a movie club movie so I hopped on board with Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? and fucking loved it. The way @HUNTERMANIA goes crazy for Black Swan is how I feel about certain dialogue-heavy romances (Closer being a good example, with the stage-to-screen adaptation commonality here) and this shot up the list after the first watch. I wrote a bit about it in the discussion thread that I'll post here:
First of all I'll say straight up - I loved George and Martha. For two people capable of being what each of them are to be together is a phenomenal thing, both for how they push each other and for the resulting fireworks that we get to be entertained by. Their dialogue is extraordinary and just so playful, in a tit-for-tat, one-upmanship kind of way. But it's a dangerous game and you wonder how far it will go once George really starts to take off and Martha shows she ain't about to back down. I knew neither of them would break through the film, but I did wonder right away whose principles would hold steadfast in the end and which ones they would be.
That's where the film really blew me away. When George pulled the gun I thought "well that didn't take long, he's cracked, it's all downhill from here" and that was what? A third of the way in? Each had a lifetime of material to sling at the other and the pendulum swung ferociously, with George seeming to take the bulk of the damage. He broke a whole bottle he got so rustled, and (without batting an eye) she slammed him again even for that. But the visiting couples acted perfectly as rebounders for the main duo. George lured blondie outside and went at him with the clear intention to destroy. His constant antagonism and misinterpretations were both a keen set-up and just another, self-amusing game - I knew George was dangerous as soon as that started. His storytelling skill lent an air of disarming sincerity to his character, but trusting him was a big mistake. He spun tales so effectively it was almost like he really believed them, and they affected him. And they did, as we come to see in the end, but it takes a while to find the kernel of truth through the offensive bombardment. "No baby you almost think you're serious and it scares the hell out of you" was a chilling line. I thought he was gonna go full Hannibal and just kill the guy right there.
It's clear Nick's Achilles heel was his wife, and both George and Martha knew it, it was just a matter of how each would use that against the other. Martha spills the beans on the son knowing Honey will bring it up again. George takes aim at "angel boobs" at the dance club, but Martha's in full swing with Nick already by then. She seems to get the upper hand when she brings Nick back to the house, but George turns to Honey again as his false witness to the telegraph delivery for his counter-attack. Nick, already having lost with George out by the swing, in full knowledge that he's fucked after saying too much about Honey, seals the deal for himself when he bangs Martha (or doesn't). Reduced completely to a tool, he gets thrown into the same slot as George at the beginning of the movie ("get the door") but doesn't have the maturity to handle it, and is instead utterly defeated. Martha's romantic gestures toward her missing husband and move back onto his team once he returns are salt in the puppy's wound.
@europe1 nailed the reason for the drawn-out fiction I think, and I loved when George kept saying "truth or illusion" as things finally started to unravel. But instead of asking why they created the fiction, I'd like to ask why that the night happened the way it did. And I think the answer is an expression of full humanity that only two complex characters with amazing chemistry could bring. There is love, there is company, there is the flash of tenderness now and then, there is also challenge and deep resentment, but with a unique and valuable mutual understanding and transparency. Their relationship is invaluable, as broken as it is, and participating is synonymous with living for both of them. I think the bit had been done before, perhaps all too often, and I think the son may have been killed before, but a long time ago. "You know the rules, I can kill him if I want to."
So George seems to win by taking down the buoyant illusion and getting Martha right where he wanted to, but by then we're so exhausted it hardly matters, and anyway the victory comes with the crushing realization that they have no son and that that fact has crippled them both irreversibly, and you wonder if a resolution will be sought or if new playful fictions will spring up to take them through the days to follow.
George was my favourite character, but Elizabeth Taylor was overwhelmingly incredible. That much presence in a woman is intoxicating and intimidating. Her Martha was explosive in a measured way, irritatingly shallow at times but compellingly intelligent and lucid in others. Vulgar and indulgent but aware of what she was doing every step of the way, more than a match for George except for a few moments. Another one of George's shining moments, and just a great scene in my opinion, was when she finally seemed to express some sensitivity and George was having none of it. Actually the intense camerawork I mentioned earlier (starting while Martha describes their marriage at 43 minutes) happens again as she paces through the parking lot. "This crap!" Fuck her voice is great. And his cutting reply - "I don't believe you, I just don't believe you." Finally I thought we were getting a glimpse of what really held them together and George fried it up with no hesitation. I can't even talk about love in relation to this movie because it totally rejects such simple emotional motivations.
I'm not sure I can take a critique of marriage or the family from this. In the time it was made it might have been more powerful in that regard, but we're well aware now of the fragility of those institutions in the face of certain problems. And anyway George and Martha are peculiar characters and I would have a hard time generalizing from their bizarre arrangement. Wikipedia cites a comparison between the authenticity of the communication between George and Martha and between Nick and Honey which I like, and while the former lead in honesty I do think that they're driven by an intellectual playfulness and combativeness the other two just don't express at all. But I'm open to hearing other messages people got from it.
Sadly the most insightful part of the analysis was captured by europe1 before I was able to get it down, as he broke down the fictional keystone of the primary relationship. I also failed to mention Martha's other heartfelt scene of self-loathing which carried the complexity and splendor of her character even further. What a great watch, big thanks to the movie club for putting that in front of me.
After being enthused by such an old movie I threw on another adapted film, A Streetcar Named Desire. The films are obviously quite different and though I enjoyed Streetcar it did serve to reel in my excitement. Blanche was extremely grating and I had little-to-no sympathy for her tired elitism until the end, by which point she'd descended into hysterics anyway. I noticed in some old posters about the film that Brando was presented as the villain, and I guess after the final few events he moved into that role more definitively, but before that there wasn't much I could condemn Stanley for. It sucks because I'm a romantic guy, and Blanche's commitment to maintaining a sense of "magic" was one of the few of her qualities I did support, but when the fictions are spun to maintain an insecure and often hostile identity and culture it ruins the point of the whole activity.
Some of the changes from the play in the film may have altered my impressions of the characters significantly. Stanley striking Stella more aggressively and yet staying by her side in the final scene may have made his character more contemptuous. Obviously more than the mere implication that he raped Blanche at the end would do the same. Instead we a get a rough character dealing with an ungrateful intrusion into his domestic life and reacting accordingly - which makes the direction of the sympathy feel awkward. When it was over I just kind of hated everybody. This was the first of a few films set in New Orleans I want to watch before going there myself in August.
Last night I found myself re-watching Django Unchained with some friends. We didn't make it to the final shoot-out so I didn't get a chance to evaluate it again as a whole, but up until that point it's fantastic. I love how few fucks Tarantino gives about the comfort of the viewers - the pace is so slow and the tension so high that it's excruciating at times. Thankfully we get punctuated relief in the form of Django-pwnage, like when he drags the dude and the horse to the ground, which are just great. Having now seen Inglorious Basterds as well I appreciated the contrast between Waltz's role as the virtuous German and his previous dastardly Nazi.
After reading the discussion itt I watched Only God Forgives but though I was curious about Refn it sadly didn't do much for me either. It was like Drive except without all the shit that made Drive really cool, including Carey Mulligan being adorable, Brian Cranston, the old synth-y soundtrack and the scorpion jacket (aside - I saw someone on a bus once wearing the exact jacket who had no idea about the film). The Freudian themes were weirder than they were intriguing, and the old Thai cop in God-mode felt heavy-handed. I actually found it more interesting considering whether or not the mother represented the devil, though the typical Freudian mother has enough on her plate as it is. The emphasis on the hands was cool and the divine punishments were cool (moreso than the karaoke ceremonies LOL) but, maybe echoing @Ricky13, I couldn't figure out a purpose for the split-framed, dream-like sequences other than to disorient. I'd like to see less (or just better) metaphor and a little more plot next time, if the exquisite style can still be maintained with the shift in proportion.
The last one was from tonight - having found a taste for strong dialogue and looking for a plot including a cute girl I found Conversations with Other Women on a list somewhere. Given my own personal circumstances it was a pretty damn frustrating watch. Eckhart and Bonham Carter meet at a wedding party and strike up a romance, revealing through their conversations that they were married previously and moving through memories of their past, a sexual affair in the present, and imaginings of their respective futures. Funny enough this film also involves a bunch of weird frame-splitting that seems like it's trying to suggest alternate timelines but always settles back uncontroversially to the main one. I also found it strange that different actors who look nothing like Eckhart or Carter were chosen to represent their younger selves. I guess the old relationship was "a lifetime ago" but using entirely different people seems like going a little far to reinforce that.
The film was frustrating for me because it did a great job of capturing the little nuances of a truly intimate relationship without making much of a case for what should be done with that relationship. She's married to another guy overseas and though we find out she has kids in a suspect manner the weight of that detail never actually materializes, and nor do we get a concrete reason for the failure of their own marriage. This lack of execution is placed entirely in the lap of Carter's character, who so deftly avoids any comprehension of commitment or responsibility that you have to wonder if she isn't just some leaf blowing in the wind. Worse, to see the behaviour of my ex represented so accurately on-screen forces me to consider whether it's just a woman thing, which isn't a conclusion I especially like. It would be nice to imagine a few who could take a principled position and stick to it and find satisfaction with that rather than bouncing from one source of stimulation to the next and claiming unhappiness throughout. Bleah.
Anyway, I'm not sure if the rest of you have even seen this one or care about it at all but the dialogue turned out to be pretty dull, Eckhart's especially. I can't remember a film where I didn't find him insufferable. In this he comes off as the guy you don't worry about your gf meeting because she might go off with him, but because if she did it would reflect such poor taste in men that your own reputation would be shattered. She's pretty as hell though - plus Olivia Wilde makes a surprise appearance looking quite gorgeous herself.
"Splurge post"!? This is obviously a copyright violation of my well-beloved and highly popular Mega-Posts. Let me introduce you to my kind-hearted friends... the lawyers!!!
I noticed in some old posters about the film that Brando was presented as the villain, and I guess after the final few events he moved into that role more definitively, but before that there wasn't much I could condemn Stanley for.
That's one of the things I liked about Streetcar. Stanley has the self-control and dispossition of an animal, yet he's also very insightful -- seeing through Blanche's charade, and he does seem to have a great emotional affection for Stella. It makes for a very tragic, engaging character.
Also, I just like the rythm of Streetcar. Initally, I found the performances to be campy fun. Brando is like "Female, I am SEX!" while Vivia is "Theater! Theater! Theater!". It's amusing. But then, slowly, the drama takes over, and some of the scenes are really great like Brando yelling "Stella!".
and Blanche's commitment to maintaining a sense of "magic" was one of the few of her qualities I did support, but when the fictions are spun to maintain an insecure and often hostile identity and culture it ruins the point of the whole activity.
That's what I found intresting about her. The problematic nature of her Southern Bell persona clashing with these working-class people was what I found intruging in the film.
The Revenant: I have to admit, during the first hour I thought to myself "Really, this is what he wont he Oscar for?" but then out of nowhere I was totally into it. First movie in along time that felt taxing to watch. By the end of it, I was just happy it was over, in a good way. You really felt for the character.
I know what you mean here, when you finish The Revenant you feel like you've just been through everything that Leo has been through. An exhausting cinematic experience to say the least.
Splurge post! Watched a lot lately so I need to get some thoughts down before they dry up.
First thing: I owed shadow a timely watch of a movie club movie so I hopped on board with Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? and fucking loved it. The way @HUNTERMANIA goes crazy for Black Swan is how I feel about certain dialogue-heavy romances (Closer being a good example, with the stage-to-screen adaptation commonality here) and this shot up the list after the first watch. I wrote a bit about it in the discussion thread that I'll post here:
First of all I'll say straight up - I loved George and Martha. For two people capable of being what each of them are to be together is a phenomenal thing, both for how they push each other and for the resulting fireworks that we get to be entertained by. Their dialogue is extraordinary and just so playful, in a tit-for-tat, one-upmanship kind of way. But it's a dangerous game and you wonder how far it will go once George really starts to take off and Martha shows she ain't about to back down. I knew neither of them would break through the film, but I did wonder right away whose principles would hold steadfast in the end and which ones they would be.
That's where the film really blew me away. When George pulled the gun I thought "well that didn't take long, he's cracked, it's all downhill from here" and that was what? A third of the way in? Each had a lifetime of material to sling at the other and the pendulum swung ferociously, with George seeming to take the bulk of the damage. He broke a whole bottle he got so rustled, and (without batting an eye) she slammed him again even for that. But the visiting couples acted perfectly as rebounders for the main duo. George lured blondie outside and went at him with the clear intention to destroy. His constant antagonism and misinterpretations were both a keen set-up and just another, self-amusing game - I knew George was dangerous as soon as that started. His storytelling skill lent an air of disarming sincerity to his character, but trusting him was a big mistake. He spun tales so effectively it was almost like he really believed them, and they affected him. And they did, as we come to see in the end, but it takes a while to find the kernel of truth through the offensive bombardment. "No baby you almost think you're serious and it scares the hell out of you" was a chilling line. I thought he was gonna go full Hannibal and just kill the guy right there.
It's clear Nick's Achilles heel was his wife, and both George and Martha knew it, it was just a matter of how each would use that against the other. Martha spills the beans on the son knowing Honey will bring it up again. George takes aim at "angel boobs" at the dance club, but Martha's in full swing with Nick already by then. She seems to get the upper hand when she brings Nick back to the house, but George turns to Honey again as his false witness to the telegraph delivery for his counter-attack. Nick, already having lost with George out by the swing, in full knowledge that he's fucked after saying too much about Honey, seals the deal for himself when he bangs Martha (or doesn't). Reduced completely to a tool, he gets thrown into the same slot as George at the beginning of the movie ("get the door") but doesn't have the maturity to handle it, and is instead utterly defeated. Martha's romantic gestures toward her missing husband and move back onto his team once he returns are salt in the puppy's wound.
@europe1 nailed the reason for the drawn-out fiction I think, and I loved when George kept saying "truth or illusion" as things finally started to unravel. But instead of asking why they created the fiction, I'd like to ask why that the night happened the way it did. And I think the answer is an expression of full humanity that only two complex characters with amazing chemistry could bring. There is love, there is company, there is the flash of tenderness now and then, there is also challenge and deep resentment, but with a unique and valuable mutual understanding and transparency. Their relationship is invaluable, as broken as it is, and participating is synonymous with living for both of them. I think the bit had been done before, perhaps all too often, and I think the son may have been killed before, but a long time ago. "You know the rules, I can kill him if I want to."
So George seems to win by taking down the buoyant illusion and getting Martha right where he wanted to, but by then we're so exhausted it hardly matters, and anyway the victory comes with the crushing realization that they have no son and that that fact has crippled them both irreversibly, and you wonder if a resolution will be sought or if new playful fictions will spring up to take them through the days to follow.
George was my favourite character, but Elizabeth Taylor was overwhelmingly incredible. That much presence in a woman is intoxicating and intimidating. Her Martha was explosive in a measured way, irritatingly shallow at times but compellingly intelligent and lucid in others. Vulgar and indulgent but aware of what she was doing every step of the way, more than a match for George except for a few moments. Another one of George's shining moments, and just a great scene in my opinion, was when she finally seemed to express some sensitivity and George was having none of it. Actually the intense camerawork I mentioned earlier (starting while Martha describes their marriage at 43 minutes) happens again as she paces through the parking lot. "This crap!" Fuck her voice is great. And his cutting reply - "I don't believe you, I just don't believe you." Finally I thought we were getting a glimpse of what really held them together and George fried it up with no hesitation. I can't even talk about love in relation to this movie because it totally rejects such simple emotional motivations.
I'm not sure I can take a critique of marriage or the family from this. In the time it was made it might have been more powerful in that regard, but we're well aware now of the fragility of those institutions in the face of certain problems. And anyway George and Martha are peculiar characters and I would have a hard time generalizing from their bizarre arrangement. Wikipedia cites a comparison between the authenticity of the communication between George and Martha and between Nick and Honey which I like, and while the former lead in honesty I do think that they're driven by an intellectual playfulness and combativeness the other two just don't express at all. But I'm open to hearing other messages people got from it.
Sadly the most insightful part of the analysis was captured by europe1 before I was able to get it down, as he broke down the fictional keystone of the primary relationship. I also failed to mention Martha's other heartfelt scene of self-loathing which carried the complexity and splendor of her character even further. What a great watch, big thanks to the movie club for putting that in front of me.
After being enthused by such an old movie I threw on another adapted film, A Streetcar Named Desire. The films are obviously quite different and though I enjoyed Streetcar it did serve to reel in my excitement. Blanche was extremely grating and I had little-to-no sympathy for her tired elitism until the end, by which point she'd descended into hysterics anyway. I noticed in some old posters about the film that Brando was presented as the villain, and I guess after the final few events he moved into that role more definitively, but before that there wasn't much I could condemn Stanley for. It sucks because I'm a romantic guy, and Blanche's commitment to maintaining a sense of "magic" was one of the few of her qualities I did support, but when the fictions are spun to maintain an insecure and often hostile identity and culture it ruins the point of the whole activity.
Some of the changes from the play in the film may have altered my impressions of the characters significantly. Stanley striking Stella more aggressively and yet staying by her side in the final scene may have made his character more contemptuous. Obviously more than the mere implication that he raped Blanche at the end would do the same. Instead we a get a rough character dealing with an ungrateful intrusion into his domestic life and reacting accordingly - which makes the direction of the sympathy feel awkward. When it was over I just kind of hated everybody. This was the first of a few films set in New Orleans I want to watch before going there myself in August.
Last night I found myself re-watching Django Unchained with some friends. We didn't make it to the final shoot-out so I didn't get a chance to evaluate it again as a whole, but up until that point it's fantastic. I love how few fucks Tarantino gives about the comfort of the viewers - the pace is so slow and the tension so high that it's excruciating at times. Thankfully we get punctuated relief in the form of Django-pwnage, like when he drags the dude and the horse to the ground, which are just great. Having now seen Inglorious Basterds as well I appreciated the contrast between Waltz's role as the virtuous German and his previous dastardly Nazi.
After reading the discussion itt I watched Only God Forgives but though I was curious about Refn it sadly didn't do much for me either. It was like Drive except without all the shit that made Drive really cool, including Carey Mulligan being adorable, Brian Cranston, the old synth-y soundtrack and the scorpion jacket (aside - I saw someone on a bus once wearing the exact jacket who had no idea about the film). The Freudian themes were weirder than they were intriguing, and the old Thai cop in God-mode felt heavy-handed. I actually found it more interesting considering whether or not the mother represented the devil, though the typical Freudian mother has enough on her plate as it is. The emphasis on the hands was cool and the divine punishments were cool (moreso than the karaoke ceremonies LOL) but, maybe echoing @Ricky13, I couldn't figure out a purpose for the split-framed, dream-like sequences other than to disorient. I'd like to see less (or just better) metaphor and a little more plot next time, if the exquisite style can still be maintained with the change in proportion.
The last one was from tonight - having found a taste for strong dialogue and looking for a plot including a cute girl I found Conversations with Other Women on a list somewhere. Given my own personal circumstances it was a pretty damn frustrating watch. Eckhart and Bonham Carter meet at a wedding party and strike up a romance, revealing through their conversations that they were married previously and moving through memories of their past, a sexual affair in the present, and imaginings of their respective futures. Funny enough this film also involves a bunch of weird frame-splitting that seems like it's trying to suggest alternate timelines but always settles back uncontroversially to the main one. I also found it strange that different actors who look nothing like Eckhart or Carter were chosen to represent their younger selves. I guess the old relationship was "a lifetime ago" but using entirely different people seems like going a little far to reinforce that.
The film was frustrating for me because it did a great job of capturing the little nuances of a truly intimate relationship without making much of a case for what should be done with that relationship. She's married to another guy overseas and though we find out she has kids in a suspect manner the weight of that detail never actually materializes, and nor do we get a concrete reason for the failure of their own marriage. This lack of execution is placed entirely in the lap of Carter's character, who so deftly avoids any comprehension of commitment or responsibility that you have to wonder if she isn't just some leaf blowing in the wind. Worse, to see the behaviour of my ex represented so accurately on-screen forces me to consider whether it's just a woman thing, which isn't a conclusion I especially like. It would be nice to imagine a few who could take a principled position and stick to it and find satisfaction with that rather than bouncing from one source of stimulation to the next and claiming unhappiness throughout. Bleah.
Anyway, I'm not sure if the rest of you have even seen this one or care about it at all but the dialogue turned out to be pretty dull, Eckhart's especially. I can't remember a film where I didn't find him insufferable. In this he comes off as the guy you don't worry about your gf meeting because she might go off with him, but because if she did it would reflect such poor taste in men that your own reputation would be shattered. She's pretty as hell though - plus Olivia Wilde makes a surprise appearance looking quite gorgeous herself.
Can never understand plot criticisms for OGF. There is so much substance in the underlying details of Gosling's character, and his inner struggles are outlined by the progression of the story. Don't get what "more plot" means.
Refn's story telling has become more unconventional than ever with OGF and Neon Demon, but to say theres not enough of a plot always seems like a surface level criticism to me
"Splurge post"!? This is obviously a copyright violation of my well-beloved and highly popular Mega-Posts. Let me introduce you to my kind-hearted friends... the lawyers!!!
Martha's embedded in it though. Her domestic life is elite intellectually, if not economically. The stimulation that George provides, even when it's blatant antagonism, keeps her going.
Not only is Blanche not in Kansas anymore but she packed same character flaws that obliterated her social standing in her old town along with her. It's downright annoying and does less for me without a proper intellectual adversary. When she messes with Mitch it comes off mean instead of playful, where Martha can bring both at once.
That's one of the things I liked about Streetcar. Stanley has the self-control and dispossition of an animal, yet he's also very insightful -- seeing through Blanche's charade, and he does seem to have a great emotional affection for Stella. It makes for a very tragic, engaging character.
Exactly, I didn't know what to make of Stanley. His language wasn't noticeably unsophisticated and his little blow-up about being called a Pollack was straight destruction. Too bad he had to get all rapey in the end.
Also, I just like the rythm of Streetcar. Initally, I found the performances to be campy fun. Brando is like "Female, I am SEX!" while Vivia is "Theater! Theater! Theater!". It's amusing. But then, slowly, the drama takes over, and some of the scenes are really great like Brando yelling "Stella!".
I can appreciate such iconic moments for sure. But the film in it's entirety just isn't one that grabbed me this time.
That's what I found intresting about her. The problematic nature of her Southern Bell persona clashing with these working-class people was what I found intruging in the film.
If she was a proper representative of her culture rather than an exile I'd say that was true. But maybe she is supposed to represent some of its problematic aspects, in the sense that her failure to maintain the right virtues (beauty, chastity) ultimately dooms her.
Can never understand plot criticisms for OGF. There is so much substance in the underlying details of Gosling's character, and his inner struggles are outlined by the progression of the story. Don't get what "more plot" means.
Refn's story telling has become more unconventional than ever with OGF and Neon Demon, but to say theres not enough of a plot always seems like a surface level criticism to me
More plot means more plot, not more characterization. Refn established this super cool foreign setting but I felt like he used it only minimally to emphasize his Freudian blah, which was a poor trade-off.
At least in Drive we had a budding relationship that anchored the protagonist's redemption. We had villains that didn't just exist to kill or be killed. We had Oscar Isaac, bro. We had a reason to give a shit and a universe we interacted with. When the Driver stomped that guy's head in the elevator I was like "bro, in the elevator? Your woman lives there ffs". In OGF I had no stock in who won and I wasn't drawn in to where things were happening either. Sure the fight brought us back to the gym but I hadn't been emotionally tied to the gym previously, so I didn't feel the drama I would have liked to.
Another reason I liked the foreign setting that I forgot to mention before was because it tripped me up when it came to taking a side. I pegged Gosling as the hero at first but he ended up being the white guy bringing drugs and trouble into a foreign land. So while I was rooting for him to beat God's ass a little I also recognized that he kind of had his own beat down coming too.
It's the less refined version, since I can't actually think properly about these things unless I'm writing or conversing about them for some reason
Martha's embedded in it though. Her domestic life is elite intellectually, if not economically. The stimulation that George provides, even when it's blatant antagonism, keeps her going.
Not only is Blanche not in Kansas anymore but she packed same character flaws that obliterated her social standing in her old town along with her. It's downright annoying and does less for me without a proper intellectual adversary. When she messes with Mitch it comes off mean instead of playful, where Martha can bring both at once.
Exactly, I didn't know what to make of Stanley. His language wasn't noticeably unsophisticated and his little blow-up about being called a Pollack was straight destruction. Too bad he had to get all rapey in the end.
I can appreciate such iconic moments for sure. But the film in it's entirety just isn't one that grabbed me this time.
If she was a proper representative of her culture rather than an exile I'd say that was true. But maybe she is supposed to represent some of its problematic aspects, in the sense that her failure to maintain the right virtues (beauty, chastity) ultimately dooms her.
More plot means more plot, not more characterization. Refn established this super cool foreign setting but I felt like he used it only minimally to emphasize his Freudian blah, which was a poor trade-off.
At least in Drive we had a budding relationship that anchored the protagonist's redemption. We had villains that didn't just exist to kill or be killed. We had Oscar Isaac, bro. We had a reason to give a shit and a universe we interacted with. When the Driver stomped that guy's head in the elevator I was like "bro, in the elevator? Your woman lives there ffs". In OGF I had no stock in who won and I wasn't drawn in to where things were happening either. Sure the fight brought us back to the gym but I hadn't been emotionally tied to the gym previously, so I didn't feel the drama I would have liked to.
Another reason I liked the foreign setting that I forgot to mention before was because it tripped me up when it came to taking a side. I pegged Gosling as the hero at first but he ended up being the white guy bringing drugs and trouble into a foreign land. So while I was rooting for him to beat God's ass a little I also recognized that he kind of had his own beat down coming too.
Its a character driven piece, what you are viewing as the centrical plot is vehicle to further who Julian is and the existential conflicts he is dealing with. Its your opinion, but to criticize a film cause you want 'more plot' sounds like you want a traditional story telling outline in your films, which you won't get from Refn.
The use of the setting is another criticism I see for Refn films sometimes which makes no sense. Its used to stylized the movie in a unique, artistic way with nightmarish undertones to parallel the dark story that is being told. Would you rather it was more bland visually? I don't get it. Seems like you're looking too deep into things that shouldn't be, and not deep enough into the things that require more thought.
I can't make any sense out of this paragraph about Drive. No offense, but you seem like the type to favor mainstream movies over independent artistic pieces. OGF isn't about cheering for a protagonist, its not about a romance, and I don't get where you're going in regards to the gym. Its all about the inner conflict of Julian and how it comes to a forefront through the film's events.
You almost have found an understanding in the last paragraph. There is no black and white here, its all grey. There is no hero, just a man navigating his inner demons and surroundings and what hes looking for in life in contrast to what he has been given.
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