— and it hinges on an unlikely friendship that could only exist from the movies. It’s the most Besson thing that is, was, or ever will be, and it also happens being the best.
It’s tough to describe “Until the tip of your World,” Wim Wenders’ languid, considerably-flung futuristic road movie, without feeling like you’re leaving something out. It’s about a couple of drifters (luminous Solveig Dommartin and gruff William Harm) meeting and un-meeting while hopping from France to Germany to Russia to China to America over the run from factions of law enforcement and bounty hunter syndicates, nevertheless it’s also about an experimental technologies that allows people to transmit memories from one particular brain to another, and about a planet living in suspended animation while waiting for your satellite to crash at an unknown place at an unknown time And maybe cause a nuclear disaster. A good part of it's just about Australia.
A.’s snuff-film underground anticipates his Hollywood cautionary tale “Mulholland Drive.” Lynch plays with classic noir archetypes — namely, the manipulative femme fatale and her naive prey — throughout the film, bending, twisting, and turning them back onto themselves until the nature of identification and free will themselves are called into concern.
It doesn’t get more romantic than first love in picturesque Lombardo, Italy. Throw in an Oscar-nominated Timothée Chalamet for a gay teenager falling hard for Armie Hammer’s doctoral student, a dalliance with forbidden fruit and in a major supporting role, a peach, and also you’ve bought amore
Back in 1992, however, Herzog experienced less cozy associations. His sparsely narrated fifty-minute documentary “Lessons Of Darkness” was defined by a steely detachment to its subject matter, considerably removed from the warm indifference that would characterize his later non-fiction work. The film cast its lens over the destroyed oil fields of post-Gulf War Kuwait, a stretch of desert hellish enough even before Herzog brought his grim cynicism towards the disaster. Even when his subjects — several of whom have been literally struck dumb by trauma — evoke God, Herzog cuts to such vast nightmare landscapes that it makes their prayers look like they are being answered from the Devil instead.
Side-eyed for years before the film’s beguiling power began to more fully reveal itself (Kubrick’s swansong proving for being every inch as mysterious and rich with brandi love meaning as “The Shining” or “2001: A Space Odyssey”), “Eyes Wide Shut” can be a clenched sleepwalk through a swirl of overlapping dreamstates.
The reality of 1 night may never be able to tell the whole truth, but no dream is ever just a dream (nor is “Fidelio” just the bdsmstreak name of a Beethoven opera). While Monthly bill’s dark night with the soul may possibly trace back to the book that entranced Kubrick as being a young gentleman, “Eyes Wide Shut” is so infinite and arresting for a way it seizes on the movies’ power to double-project truth and illusion in the same time. Lit by the St.
James Cameron’s ebony porn 1991 blockbuster (to wit, over half a billion bucks in worldwide returns) is consistently — and rightly — hailed as the best of your sprawling apocalyptic franchise about the need to not misjudge both Arnold Schwarzenegger and Linda Hamilton.
They’re looking for love and sexual intercourse from the last days of disco, on the start on the ’80s, and have to swat away plenty of Stillmanian assholes, like Chris Eigeman for a drug-addicted club manager who pretends to be gay to dump women without guilt.
I have to rewatch it, since I am not sure if I got everything right when it comes to dynamics. I'd say that definitely was an intentional move via the script author--to enhance the theme of reality and play blurring. Ingenious--as well as confusing.
Tailored from the László Krasznahorkai novel of the same name and maintaining the book’s dance-encouraged chronology, Béla Tarr’s seven-hour “Sátántangó” tells a Möbius strip-like story about the collapse of a farming collective in post-communist Hungary, news of which inspires a mystical charismatic vulture of a man named Irimiás — played by composer Mihály Vig — to “return from the lifeless” and prey about the desolation he finds Among the many desperate and easily manipulated townsfolk.
You might love it for the whip-wise screenplay, which gained Callie Khouri an Academy Award. Or possibly iporn tv with the chemistry between its two leads, because Susan Sarandon and Geena Davis couldn’t have been better cast as Louise, a jaded waitress and her friend Thelma, a naive housewife, whose worlds are turned upside down during a weekend girls’ trip when Louise fatally shoots a person trying to rape Thelma outside a dance hall.
This underground cult classic tells the story of a high school cheerleader who’s sent to conversion therapy camp after her deep nude family suspects she’s a lesbian.
Annette Bening and Julianne Moore play the moms of two teenagers whose happy home life is thrown off-balance when their long-in the past anonymous sperm donor crashes the party.