ethanj-41027 Reviews

Beasts of the Southern Wild (2012)

Independent Masterpiece

[9/10 · 16 June 2020]

Beasts of the Southern Wild (2012) - [9/10]

I did not expect this film to hit me as hard as it did. This is, without a doubt, one of the greatest independent films of all time. I went into Beasts of the Southern Wild (2012) expecting to see an Oscar worthy performance, but that's about it. What I didn't anticipate were the feelings that I felt, the beauty that I witnessed, and the thoughts that were produced throughout its 99 minute runtime. Beasts of the Southern Wild (2012) is definitely not for everybody. It is strange, poetic, and "indie". All of these attributes, however jarring they may seem, are what made this film so good. I think there are two words that can perfectly describe the Beasts of the Southern Wild (2012) experience: beautiful and original (or beautifully original). It is so weird that it becomes normal and lovable. This sense of originality was not the only attribute that makes it spectacular. The acting, directing, cinematography, soundtrack, and writing created this film's greatness. The entire cast performed wonderfully, but there are two performances that stick out like sore thumbs. Those two performances were from Dwight Henry and Quvenzhané Wallis. Both actors completed each other. On one hand (rather, on one thumb), Henry conveyed anger, dominance, fear, and was detached from what mattered most, but on the other, Wallis conveyed courage, fearlessness, strength, and love. Their performances and characters created human embodiments of the yin-yang philosophy. Wallis' performance is one of the best parts of this film. She acts at an entirely different caliber than most child actors, teenage actors, and adult actors. There is a reason that she became the youngest actress to ever be nominated for the Academy Award for Best Performance by an Actress in a Leading Role (she was just 9 years old!!!). Wallis carries the film on her shoulders, as she reaches for the sky. I cannot wait to see more of what she is able to do, because her future is brighter than the sun. I am astonished that I haven't heard of this film until last week. This is a film that isn't talked about, but a film that deserves to be talked about. It is very odd; the writing is unconventional, the cinematography is bizarre, and the soundtrack is abnormal, but all of these oddities create the film's authentic style. Beasts of the Southern Wild (2012) carries powerful messages about family, love, bravery, and the Earth close to its heart, to create a quite "indie" and a quite enjoyable film.

Trolls World Tour (2020)

Corporate Capitalism at its Finest

[5/10 · 19 May 2020]

Trolls World Tour (2020) - [5/10]

Oh my, oh my. I'm going to keep this one short - just like this film's runtime. Trolls World Tour (2020) is a film for a certain demographic, just one demographic, and if you don't fall under that category, you will not enjoy this film. If you're not a child under eight, I wouldn't advise watching this (I was going to give this film a 4/10, because my total score was a 36%, but I took into consideration the age that this film tries to appeal. If I was in that demographic, I would have probably enjoyed this film, so I added a little bit of leeway in that respect). It treats the viewer as if they are completely oblivious to any sort of subtlety, so the filmmakers have their characters explain multiple times the same piece of exposition and every other story element. It is like the filmmakers think we need to be spoon fed every piece of the story. Granted this may be because many members of the target audience are still being spoon fed their meals, but you would expect the film to at least respect the older audience that might watch this too. The story is filled with numerous plot holes, predictability, and unoriginal ideas (don't even get me started with the amount of story elements that were stolen from films like Avengers: Infinity War (2018) ). It's like the story was built around each of the 20 original songs and cover songs, so the film feels like an endless music video. If anything, this film represents corporate capitalism at its finest - they created an unnecessary sequel to sell songs. Those songs are one of the only redeeming qualities this film has (and the best ones are the original songs - not the cover songs. The covers are really quite bad). So, one of the best things about the film is the soundtrack, but the best thing about the soundtrack are the songs that are unattached to the film - quite interesting. The other redeeming quality is the animation. It's quite spectacular in most scenes, but the amount of color and "seizure-inducing" visuals make for an overwhelming experience. I think Trolls World Tour (2020) is a great example that visual style cannot make up for any amount of story substance a film is lacking. Overall, Trolls World Tour (2020) is pretty mediocre. If it didn't have the 20 songs in the soundtrack, it would have nothing. If it didn't have beautiful animation, it would be completely unoriginal. If it treated its audience members better, it would be much more enjoyable. I'm sure kids that are in its target demographic will enjoy Trolls World Tour (2020), but if you aren't in that age range... proceed with caution.

Scoob! (2020)

Scoob! (2020): Scooby-Doo for the New and Old

[7/10 · 16 May 2020]

Scoob! (2020) - [7/10]

This was the first film I watched that was premiered through VOD, and I'm really happy. It lived up to my expectations and in some ways exceeded them. Ever since I was a child, I have loved Scooby-Doo (1969 - ). I grew up watching every adventure with Mystery Inc. I could, and I think I can confidently say I've seen almost every Scooby-Doo (1969 - ) film and television show - it's a part of who I was and who I am now. I grew up with these characters, so to see a completely new animation style, casting, and story direction had me excited, yet nervous. I was excited to see the gang back together, but was nervous to see a "new" story. The idea of superheroes, super villains, and then Mystery Inc. scared me. I thought, "That's not Scooby-Doo (1969 - ). That's a corporation trying to cash in on the 'superhero trend' and revive a beloved series." Thankfully, I remembered that Scooby-Doo (1969 - ) has always had ridiculous adventures - from becoming literal samurai to getting trapped in a video game, and I realized that this was just another fun, outside-the-box adventure. The adventure in Scoob! (2020) is a fun one, filled with some twists, emotional moments, and powerful messages. That being said, not everything in this film is executed to perfection, and you can tell that some elements simply don't live up to the best of Scooby-Doo (1969 - ) television shows and films. One of the biggest worries I had with the film was the casting. Will Forte as Shaggy, Gina Rodriguez as Velma, Zac Efron as Fred, and Amanda Seyfried as Daphne. How could they replace the perfect Shaggy, Mathew Lillard?? Something just didn't sit right for me when I found out that he wasn't attached to this film, but then I heard Will Forte's take on good ol' Shaggster. I was pleasantly surprised. It lived up to Lillard's Shaggy and was quite original at the same time. That's how I felt for the rest of the cast as well, pleasantly surprised. They were able to balance nostalgia and originality in their performances, creating something enjoyable for new and old fans. This concept goes for the majority of the film, wonderfully balancing originality and nostalgia to both revamp and respect the Scooby-Doo name (1969 - ). The revamping came in many forms, some good and some bad, but overall was pretty effective. The first, of course, is the animation style. It is very different from the other animated styles seen in the series, but it is really good. It took a little while to get used to, but in the end it just felt right. Secondly, they revamped the story of Scooby and Shaggy. They take us back to a new origin story, one that doesn't involve a puppy farm or Coolsville, Ohio, but one that involves a lonely kid and a lonely stray. In some ways, this new origin story is more effective than the original, but in other ways it isn't. I wasn't very fond of how Scooby and Shaggy met Fred, Velma, and Daphne, but I thought that the way Scooby and Shaggy met was quite emotional. The world was also revamped, taking a modern (if not futuristic) setting. This makes a "retro" series feel new and fresh, creating the ability for the series to continue and impact future generations in the years to come - which is very exciting. I am happy to say that Scooby-Doo (1969 - ) will continue being classic Mystery Inc. for years to come, because of this film. Overall, Scoob! (2020) is very enjoyable. I loved when it would reference the original series and films through the use of iconic sound effects, imagery, and even the recreation of the legendary Scooby-Doo (1969 - ) intro. But, I didn't like how some of the characters were overshadowed, such as Fred, and underdeveloped, like Daphne. It's more of a story about Scooby and Shaggy than it is about Mystery Inc., so it kind of makes sense that they weren't as prominent (or developed). I also didn't like the pacing, there were moments that needed to slow down and moments that needed to last longer; I think a longer runtime might have helped in its pacing. I would have loved to see this film in theaters, but I think it was the perfect release for VOD. It is a chance for families to get together and watch something that is enjoyable for everyone, in the safety of their own homes. I think it has a really good message (especially if you're a dog lover) about friendship and family. I highly recommend checking out it out this weekend with family and close friends. Scoob! (2020) is original, yet familiar, bringing together the culmination of a couple generations - both new and old - to create a satisfying adventure for the entire family that will make you relive memories you had somehow forgotten.

The Social Network (2010)

21st Century Gold

[10/10 · 11 May 2020]

The Social Network (2010) - [8/10]

I am really close to review this as a 9/10. The Social Network (2010) is a fantastic film. I am a huge fan of David Fincher and Aaron Sorkin, and this film fuels the admiration I have for them. Fincher directs masterfully in this horrific biopic, coupled with Sorkin's elegant dialogue. Without Sorkin, the film wouldn't work. Without Fincher, the film wouldn't work. Two masters work together to create an amazing film. I really would like to give this film a higher rating, but there are a couple things holding me back. In my opinion, it lacks something spectacular. Whether that be from the emotional detachment of the main character(s) or the fact that some scenes feel unneeded, I think it misses something that could have made it perfect. One scene in particular was very strange. It involves a CG, but not CG, effect during a boat race. When I look back on this scene, in terms of the rest of the story, it's really out of place (the music choice is also quite strange). Thinking about it more, it's still very important for multiple reasons. So it feels out of place, yet deeply important... very conflicting ideas. Another issue I had, and it's actually part of why I like the film, is the pacing. For the most part, The Social Network (2010) is extremely fast paced. Dialogue races by with each shot. There are scenes that are short, but sweet with excellent cutting. But, because it is so fast (and complex), you can get lost in what is happening. Some of the most important scenes happen very fast and it's hard to digest, analyze, and remember everything. This is also a positive for The Social Network (2010). The fact that you need to watch it multiple times to pick up on every little complexity is genius (Sorkin is a master in that way). This was the fourth time I watched the film and, don't get me wrong, I really love it. I think it's one of the best biographical films that has been made, and its message is just as powerful - if not more powerful, today. The acting is exceptional (especially from our leads, Jesse Eisenberg and Andrew Garfield) but, there is quite a big emotional disconnect between this film and the audience (at least for me anyways). This is a result from our lead character, Mark Zuckerberg - played by Jesse Eisenberg, who just isn't likable. In fact, he is the villain of this story (rather one of them). For the most part we're against him, morally and legally. The only likable character is Eduardo Saverin - played by Andrew Garfield but, he is the supporting character (I could actually make an argument that he is the main character of the story and very well should be, but I digress). I think because of the choice to have only one hero, who is a supporting character, this film loses all the emotion it could have generated. The moments where Garfield stands in the spotlight are highly emotional, and I applaud his performance. It was really rewarding to see Garfield's talent when a great director utilizes it. I've always believed that he is one of the most underrated actors of this generation and if more directors see his potential, he could be one of the greats (similar to Adam Driver). Eisenberg is excellent in this film. He perfectly portrays an unapologetic, selfish jerk - alongside Justin Timberlake. Eisenberg is emotionless, and fits Zuckerberg's character perfectly. He is extremely detached from humanity and human emotion, yet he makes founds social media phenomenon that strives for human connection. It is so compelling, and Eisenberg makes it so. The cinematography of this film is stark, detached, and formulaic - just like it should be. The editing is fast paced, but sacrifices slow, emotional moments for orchestral dialogue. The writing is exceptional (and one of the reasons I want this film to be a 9/10). This film features one of the greatest scripts that was ever made. David Fincher directs with meaning, mastery, and minimalism. In the end, I really think the biggest problem this film faces is emotion. It tries desperately to conjure emotions (albeit it is able to conjure negative ones very easily), as seen with the very last scene of the film, but fails to do so in the long run. The Social Network (2010) is one of the greatest films released in the 21st century and is a must see for anybody that has ever heard the name, Facebook.

Documentary Now! (2015– )

Comedy Gold

[9/10 · 9 May 2020]

Documentary Now! (2015 - ) - [9/10]

I love this show. There are hundreds of reasons behind why I love Documentary Now! (2015 - ). Maybe I love it because of how it mocks legendary documentaries. Maybe I love it because I want to be a filmmaker - and they make fun of a lot of filmmaking tropes. Maybe I love it because it is exceptionally written. Maybe I love it simply because it is hilarious. Critics love it and audiences have never seen it. It is ridiculously smart, absolutely entertaining, and masterfully made. Anyone that has seen a documentary will find this show funny. Fred Armisen, Bill Hader, Seth Meyers, Rhys Thomas, Alexander Buono, John Mulaney, Lorne Michaels, and so many more are attached to this show - each contributing to the hilarity. It is crazy how detailed this show is. It dances across a thin line; it is so close to offending the original documentary, but it honors the original documentary (or documentary company) with each episode parodied. Many shots mimic the original documentaries' shots. In fact, they were able to get some of the equipment that the actual documentaries' used (lenses, sketch artists, etc.). After each episode, you want to see the original documentary, because they make jokes that will go over your head. I love it. The writing is exceptional. It is hilarious, crude, genius, and masterful. The creators are all veteran comedians, with backgrounds in SNL (1975 - ) and it works so well. Documentary Now! (2015 - ) is like a cinematic, thought out, and sincere SNL (1975 - ) sketch. Each episode is a hit, because of the writing. Whether from the source material, spoofing, or mockumentary style. They try not to mock legendary documentaries, but pay "homage" to them. There are Emmy nominated performances from each season. Fred Armisen and Bill Hader are masterful comedians. They fully become their characters, with different voices, looks, and quirks. Both of them have very dry, stark, humor and encapsulate what Documentary Now! (2015 - ) is. The guest stars are also hilarious. Owen Wilson is in a couple episodes, alongside Michael Keaton. Peter Fonda, Mia Farrow, John Mulaney, and so many more. Each episode requires a different role (or the same episode has multiple roles), and that just shows how great Armisen and Hader are. Everybody that has worked with this show are comedic geniuses. This show is a lot of fun. Some episodes aren't as strong as the others, but they're funny nonetheless. I've loved this show for awhile, and I can't wait for more seasons and episodes. Each episode has its own unique style (big props to Alexander Buono and Rhys Thomas' direction). Each episode is comedy gold. Each episode encapsulates what documentary filmmaking is. Documentary Now! (2015 - ) is uniquely original, perfectly spoofs classic documentaries, is sincerely made, and a show that every comedy fan must watch.

The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014)

A Cinematic Delicacy

[10/10 · 7 May 2020]

The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014) - [10/10]

I've spent a long time trying to word this review... and I can't. This film is amazing. It's spectacular. Every little thing about it is perfect (aside from a few continuity errors, but I only first noticed them on my fourth viewing) much like the exquisite mise en scène. It is beautifully written, masterfully directed, and wonderfully executed. I have nothing but compliments for The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014), so I'll keep this review short. With excellent production design, spectacular performances, and camera movements and shots that fill you with satisfaction, this film is a cinematic experience and masterpiece. It is rewatchable. It has small significant details that you won't notice until a second or third viewing, so it makes each viewing a new experience. Everything is perfect, just like Wes Anderson's symmetrical framing. Like the imaginary Mendel's Courtesan au Chocolat delicacies, The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014) is a delightful treat that you will not be able to get enough of.

The Sacrifice (1986)

The End of a Master's Work

[10/10 · 30 April 2020]

The Sacrifice (1986) - [10/10]

Tarkovsky's legacy and impact on cinema. This film is a masterpiece. Period, end of story. Every single scene is meticulously crafted and executed. Tarkovsky applies each and every technique that he has learned - and mastered - over the years and solidifies himself as a master of cinema. An artist. An expert. An auteur. I'd be lying if I said I did not cry. I cried twice. Once at the beginning, and once at the end. The opening credits hadn't even finished, and I was in tears. I don't know if it's because I realized that this was Andrei Tarkovsky's final film, his last mark on cinema history, or if it was because of the beauty that overcame my senses, from sound to sight. I cried at the end, because it was over. Tarkovsky's last film. It ends triumphantly, magnificently, and heartbreaking(ly). It is a legendary ending, juxtaposing the end of life and all we own (a house fire) and the beginning of life (a child caring to a young tree). This film marks the end of the Andrei Tarkovsky Appreciation Event, the end of Tarkovsky's filmography, and the end of a legend. But is it the end or just the beginning?

Tarkovsky's filmography will forever be immortalized in film history. Each of his seven films are masterpieces in their own ways. 0. The Steamroller and the Violin (1961): One of the greatest short films to come from a film student and proof that Tarkovsky had limitless potential. 1. Ivan's Childhood (1962): One of the best directorial debuts and wartime character studies. 2. Andrei Rublev (1966): One of the best biopics and historical epics in film history. 3. Solaris (1972): One of the greatest space and psychological journeys to cross the silver screen. 4. The Mirror (1975): One poetic piece of cinema in every way and an incredibly personal experience. 5. Stalker (1979): One of the finest science-fiction films of all time and a masterclass in filmmaking. 6. Nostalghia (1983): One of the most sincere and reflective films to ever be conceived. 7. The Sacrifice (1986): One of the best shot films and a beautiful end to a master's work. Every film Tarkovsky created is quintessential to cinema. Even though Andrei Tarkovsky passed away, he lives on. Someone somewhere, will discover his work. Someone somewhere, will be inspired by his work. Someone somewhere, will pay homage to his work (I will pay homage to him... one day). Tarkovsky may be gone, but his impact on cinema will never disappear.

Now onto The Sacrifice (1986). I really couldn't find much wrong with it (hence the 10/10 rating). Maybe the slow pace, but slow paced films don't bother me. This film has a lot of main characters in it, and it works. Each character is written originally, organically, and purposefully. At times the different personalities clash, and then moments later they blend. The overall chemistry of the entire ensemble is really great. Erland Josephson is the main (main) character. He is amazing in this film. From the very first scene, we are connected with him (even though the camera is distant, but I'll get to that later). That's really how it is with all of the characters in the film - we're connected with them. They're completely real, raw, and original. Josephson doesn't just carry the film, he makes it. Without him, the supporting main characters would not have worked. He is the common ground for the audience, between insanity and rationality. The performances were up to par with the quality of the film, but in the end some characters could have had a little more "stage presence." Such as Julia and Maria's characters (Valérie Mairesse and Filippa Franzén). They weren't as fleshed out as they could have been, and I think both of their performances weren't as strong (or noticeable) as the rest of the cast. Regardless, their characters still work. In the grand scheme of things, they did not need to be as present as the other characters, but it would have been nice to see. Overall, the ensemble cast (something Tarkovsky really hadn't done before) worked. The way these characters worked wasn't just because of the actors, but also because of the writing. Tarkovsky wrote such a complex plot for this film. He throws everything he has into it. Every stylistic device. Every metaphor. Every amount of personal-ness he can add. The Sacrifice (1986) was dedicated to Tarkovsky's son. The son who he had not been able to see for eighteen months. This is a love letter to him, and a message to all of human race (I know, big expectations to fulfill). The story serves as a warning to mankind: to not abandon our spirituality for materialistic goods because when you lose everything you own, all you have is your faith. I think this story is as important and impactful as it was back in 1986. It holds up on so many levels. From the historical allusions to the character attributes utilized. The plot slowly (very slowly) evolves from a normal day into dire circumstances (WWIII) to only devolve back into normality. It's hard to explain because the plot is simple, yet complex. Beautiful, yet devastating. Each line of dialogue is real, yet expositional and artistic. I learned a lot about how to write an effective film and how to write subtextual dialogue on the first watch. I wasn't even trying to learn anything, I was just trying to experience it. That shows how amazing the writing is. It captivates you. It intrigues you. And it makes you question yourself. Andrei Tarkovsky writes with such nuance, mastery, and experience (as in he puts his own experiences into the film), to craft a timeless piece of art named, The Sacrifice (1986). The cinematography is gorgeous. There are a total of 115 shots in this film. 115. That means that the average length of each shot is a minute and a half (not every scene is a minute and a half, that's just the average length of each shot for the 149 minute runtime). There are sequences that last upwards of 6 minutes long. The length of a scene doesn't mean a film is beautifully shot, but what it captures does (that isn't to say that the long takes aren't beautiful in themselves - they are). This film captures beauty in its purest form. It captures nature, humanity, kindness, faith, and much more... just through imagery. The shots Tarkovsky and Sven Nykvist choose to use, denote emotion. Every single shot has a purpose. Like the very end of the film, it directly parallels the opening to Tarkovsky's first film, Ivan's Childhood (1962). The Sacrifice (1986) ends focused on a tree, and Ivan's Childhood (1962) begins with a single tree in focus. I doubt that this was done purposefully, but this connection just ties his films together. Although, I wouldn't be surprised if this was in fact done purposefully. Regardless, all of Tarkovsky's films are shot beautifully, each with their own style, emotion, and composition. COMPOSITION! I completely forgot about the composition of this film. Each scene is staged to perfection. The camera revolves around each character, hitting marks that are just aesthetically pleasing. The composition of each scene is purposeful, as characters move around (in and out of frame) to reveal new things. The mix of scene composition and camera maneuvers just elevates this masterpiece.

The Sacrifice (1986): Tarkovsky's final film. This is the penultimate Tarkovsky film. It is the an incredible cinematic experience. I had very high expectations going into viewing this, and they were exceeded. This film is nearly perfect, marking the end of Tarkovsky, and places him within the ranks of the greatest filmmakers that ever lived. Seeing this final film makes me wonder... how different would film history be if Tarkovsky hadn't sacrificed his life for art. I'm sure he would have somehow outdone this film with an eighth feature, but we'll never know. We'll never know what he thought of today's masterpieces. If he really enjoyed The Terminator (1984), imagine what he would have thought of films like The Matrix (1999)? Or even films like The Shawshank Redemption (1994)? Marvel films? I would love to hear his opinion on these films, but I don't think I ever will. All we have are the films he made, books he wrote, and ideologies he established to communicate with him. His seven masterpieces. That is how we will continue to celebrate Andrei Tarkovsky's legacy. So as the month of April ends, Tarkovsky's birthday month, so does this event. The goal was to view every Tarkovsky film and to review them for a greater audience, and I can confidently say that I did so. I've had so much support on this, and I thank you. I thank every single one of you for simply viewing my posts, because now you've heard of Andrei Tarkovsky. And maybe, one day you'll decide to watch one of his films - and I hope you do. Andrei Arsenyevich Tarkovsky was one of the greatest filmmakers that ever lived, and a filmmaking hero of mine. I've really exhausted all of my opinions on his films, so I won't bother explaining them to you anymore... I'll let him do it. "My purpose is to make films that will help people to live, even if they sometimes cause unhappiness." -Andrei Arsenyevich Tarkovsky (April 4th, 1932 - December 29, 1986).

Nostalghia (1983)

Not your typical film...

[9/10 · 30 April 2020]

Nostalghia (1983) - [9/10]

This is one of Tarkovsky's most underrated pieces. It is melancholic, reflective, and sincere. It is full of emotion and full of vast amounts of meaning. Be it from excellent lines of dialogue, to the simplistic act of lighting a candle, this film succeeds. Nostalghia (1983) was Tarkovsky's first film outside of the USSR (after he was kicked out and exiled), and you can tell. The plot revolves around a Russian poet, and his time in Italy - away from his family and homeland. This poet's name is Andrei. Clearly, Andrei Tarkovsky pulls direct life parallels and places them in this film, as he also lived in Italy after his time in Russia. He yearned to return back to his homeland and family, but could not, so his faith was tested. Faith is the subject of this film. The discovery of faith, and the lack there of. Tarkovsky poses the question: Does faith make you "crazy" in our ever-evolving society? As people that have faith are ridiculed and titled insane. Tarkovsky ponders the idea of what happens when you have too much faith - full fledged, blind faith - and if this impacts those around you (this idea is embodied in the character Domenico, played by Erland Josephson) in the 125 minute runtime of Nostalghia (1983). I really enjoyed this film. From the slow pace, to the quietness that each scene produces. It is beautiful. Each scene lasts for a very long time, causing you to think about what is happening, has happened, and what will happen. That style of cinematography helps you to reflect on the characters, as well as yourself. This could be considered "boring" to some viewers and that's understandable. Nostalghia (1983) is not your typical film. It is extremely slow. It is extremely quiet. If you have any issues with either of these techniques, I encourage you not to see this film. I have no issue with a quiet or slow paced film, so this film captivated me. Silence was used as a way to illustrate what our main character, Andrei Gorchakov (played by Oleg Yankovskiy), is going through. He can't speak that much Italian, yet he is placed in a world where that is the main language, so he is silent. He also reflects on his own life throughout the film, so there are many moments of silence or almost absolute silence. The slow pace acts in the same way, having meaning as to why it is slow. It is slow because our main character has not figured out his own situation - he wants to have faith, but cannot find it. Tarkovsky masterfully writes and directs this film. He is able to make the minuscule moments of the film, enormous and emotional. He interweaves our characters past memories with present situations, and edits them seamlessly. Tarkovsky is able to capture emotion in everything, like sadness, just through imagery. Our character opens a window, expecting the view of an outside world, and finds the view of a stone wall. Why have a window if there isn't a view? This depicts the very sadness our character is feeling. Tarkovsky also captures the effect of time on our character through simple actions. The main character walks into the bathroom of a place he has been before, but forgets where the light switch is. He reaches to the wrong wall, expecting the switch to be there, but it isn't. This small moment shows how much time has passed since our character has been in this familiar place. He may remember it, but deep down he doesn't. It is the subtleties through imagery and actions that make this film good. I felt like the acting could have been better than it was (that's really the only thing holding me back from a 10/10). Oleg Yankovskiy was great as the main character, but he felt distant. I couldn't really relate to him as much as I wanted to. This was the same for most of the actors' performances. I just needed some more attachment and emotion from them than what I received. There were moments where I was completely and utterly attached to the characters, so those are some of the best scenes of the film. If only those moments made up the entirety of Nostalghia (1983). Anatoliy Solonitsyn (one of my favorite actors, and long time collaborator with Tarkovsky) was going to play the main character, but passed away from cancer in 1982 (this was from the filming of Stalker (1979). I think he would have brought what Oleg Yankovskiy's performance needed to this film. Solonitsyn's performance would have been amazing to see - it would have been a perfect casting, but Yankovskiy did great nonetheless. Overall, Nostalghia (1983) perfectly captures the feelings associated with remembering your past, as Tarkovsky recalls his life in Russia, life in Italy, and faith in modern times.

Stalker (1979)

I'm speechless.

[10/10 · 30 April 2020]

Stalker (1979) - [10/10]

I am literally speechless. I have not said a single word about this film after viewing it - let alone wrote about it. I can't figure out how to put this (I think this will probably be one of my shorter reviews as a result). It's a masterpiece. Hands down, one of the best science-fiction films ever. Everything I've had issues with in my other Tarkovsky reviews have become mastered (besides Andrei Rublev (1966) because I had no issues from that). It perfectly - perfectly - balances entertainment and art. The story is so engrossing, I was on the edge of my seat the entire time. Each line of dialogue was informative, realistic, and poetic; being executed to perfection by the actors. Every performance was top notch. The cinematography blew my mind - there were moments (a lot of them) where I could not figure out how they filmed complex sequences. The amount of meaning in every shot, action, and detail in frame brought me to tears. Tears simply because of how incredible this film is. (I'm sorry but I really can't find the any other words to describe this film.) You can't describe the Sistine Chapel in words. You have to experience the Sistine Chapel (trust me I have). That's the feeling that was imprinted on me when I watched this film. You can't describe it, you have to experience it. And when you do, it'll leave you speechless. Great art doesn't require explaining, it requires feeling. This film has that feeling. Every person involved with this film sacrificed it all. Tarkovsky, his wife, and Anatoliy Solonitsyn (definitely one of my favorite actors of all time) sacrificed their lives to make this (see my Tarkovsky biography for more information). Stalker (1979) stands as a testament to what an artist is willing to sacrifice to create art. Art that pushes the boundaries of human nature, thought, and life. Tarkovsky has done it again.

Hail, Caesar! (2016)

Disappointing Adventure

[6/10 · 30 April 2020]

Hail, Caesar! (2016) - [6/10]

The Coen Brothers typically make really good films - typically. There are moments in this film that are great, but those are just moments. The rest of the film is mediocre. I was quite disappointed with this film, and I think most people were. It felt really incomplete and all over the place. There really wasn't a main character, and most of the characters felt emotionally detached from the viewer. I couldn't connect with any of the cast (aside from one, maybe two characters) and when I began to do so, that character would disappear. With more than a couple absurd jokes, strange "out-of-the-blue" twists, and a star-studded cast, Hail, Caesar! (2016) tries to be so much, but fails to achieve anything it set out to accomplish (get it "set" because a large majority of the film takes place on various different film sets). There are three things that are good about this film. The production design, the cinematography, and the dialogue. The rest of the components that create a feature film feel incredibly lackluster. The writing (aside from the dialogue) isn't good, the acting is undistinguished, the editing didn't work, and the directing is disappointing. From a Coen Brothers' film, I would have expected better. I always wondered why no one ever talked about this film, and now I know why: it is forgettable. I watched Hail, Caesar! (2016) yesterday (from when I post this review), and I've already forgotten a lot about it; aside from the three things that are actually quite well done. I even took notes while watching it. It's forgettable. When a film is forgettable, that is not a good sign (it's more that you want to forget about it after viewing the film). Production design. This film excels in creating beautiful sets, settings, and mood. Each of the different stages in the fictional production company's lot (Capitol Pictures) perfectly captures the essence of 50s cinema. Production designer Jess Gonchor did an excellent job in capturing that era in every single set. I got a lot - a lot - of Wes Anderson vibes. Simply because of how vibrant, original, and complex each setting was. The different settings that Gonchor brought to life, really helped this film establish a realistic world. I haven't really talked about production design in any of my reviews, so I hope I sort of explained it well. The role of a production designer is to create the visual look of the story that is being told, and Gonchor's designs make this film look visually pleasing (coupled with Roger Deakins' camera work). But films aren't just about looking beautiful, they have to be compelling, have depth, and engage their audience. This film stands as an example of the fact that films can look gorgeous, but lack true beauty in their story. The story is so incredibly strange. That is part of the Coen Brothers' style, but what made this film strange is the way it jumps around. In terms of genre, tone, and story. There are scenes that drag, and then other scenes that feel two short (it almost makes you question "why did we just watch this"). On top of that, there really isn't a main plot. There are a couple of main plots. Thinking about it now, this film would have been much better as a TV show. The Coen Brothers try to squeeze so many different stories into one larger story, and it doesn't work. We jump around constantly, from one story to the next, and get lost in what is actually happening. It also jumps genres as a result of the many different stories. From comedy, to drama, to musical, and then back to comedy. If each of the different stories had been their own episodes in the Hail, Caesar! (2016) TV show, I think it would have turned out differently, but instead we get 5+ different complex stories jammed into an hour and forty six minute film. The stories don't have time to truly develop, as they're also edited to be occurring within each other, and the characters don't have time to truly develop either. When characters aren't able to develop, the actors' performances are affected. I expected more from all of the actors in this film. Each and every one of them has had stellar performances before, and in this it is as if they hadn't. They felt like amateurs. This is definitely a result of the writing. It must have been so difficult as an actor to figure out who your character is, and who they grow into, when there is very little to go off of. The best performance of the film was Alden Ehrenreich as Hobie Doyle. He was actually extremely good in his role of Doyle, a country boy turned star who is forced by the studio to change his public image. I thought he was hilarious, having one of the funniest moments in the film, and was able to bring charm to this charmless film. Having actors such as Scarlett Johansson, Channing Tatum, Jonah Hill, and George Clooney would make you think that there would be a lot of charm - but there isn't. Their performances are emotionless, dull, and unsatisfying. Josh Brolin also gives a good performance as the man with all the solutions, Eddie Mannix. He also has some of the funniest moments in the film, and brings a greater level of talent than most of the other cast. Although Hail, Caesar! (2016) has a star-studded cast, the performances aren't as masterful as you would hope. Hail, Caesar! (2016) pays great homage to 50s cinema, whilst making fun of cinema itself, and attempts to tackle issues in the film industry (such as writer unappreciation, public image, Communism , you read that correctly], and talent agnst). It fails from pre-production to create a compelling story, altering actors' performances, and narrative feel as a result. The cinematography, production design, and dialogue are the best parts of the film, but looks aren't everything in Hail, Caesar! (2016).

Mirror (1975)

A Poetic Masterpiece

[10/10 · 19 April 2020]

The Mirror (1975) - [9/10]

Sculpting in Time (1984). Andrei Tarkovsky's novel about art and cinema, as well as his own films. Tarkovsky is fixated on time in this film. He uses time as an artistic style in most of his films, but not to the extent that he does in this highly autobiographical narrative. He investigates what time means, what it represents, and how it can be used. This fixation can be seen in the way he edits The Mirror (1975). He edits it for rhythm and meaning, not for "linear structure" (that's probably why this is the 33rd cut of the film - yes, it took 32 other cuts to get to this version). This non-linear structure works. In the film, three different time zones occur simultaneously as our Narrator, a dying man, recalls his past. His dreams, his experiences, and his feelings. The film is layered as if it were a memory - a combination of many memories rather. Memories that pass across the screen like the wind passes through the forest. The non-linear structure becomes a visual poem. Each stanza of this poem, that is The Mirror (1975), connects, in some way to the next - these stanzas being each image on screen. It is truly entrancing. The film's composition, coupled with absolutely beautiful cinematography, excels on many levels. One of these levels being the music choice. The pieces chosen carry such emotion and reflection that I couldn't help but sit back and feel the orchestral sounds touch my soul. These songs transport you into the world Tarkovsky has established. His world. The Mirror (1975) is his autobiography. He pulls direct names, experiences, and feelings from his childhood and inserts them into the film. Tarkovsky's father left when he was very little, and this is his reflection on that event. How it impacted him and more importantly, his mother. As an audience member, you feel connected to this film. It causes you to reflect on your own childhood; to look into The Mirror (1975) and see yourself. This film is extremely hard to describe. It's so very complex that it takes multiple viewings to understand the film - and even then you don't completely understand it. But in the end, you don't need to necessarily understand the film's structure - that's why Tarkovsky made it non-linear. He wanted you to understand the feelings, the emotions, and the experiences that are presented. Not to worry about when this story takes place or why things are the way they are (analysis can and should be utilized for second or third viewings if you're interested in understanding more then just those ideas - but not on the first viewing). He wanted you to be overcome by the captivating score. To observe the gorgeous cinematography. To let the poetic dialogue seize control. And to feel the power of a reflection. A reflection of his life, and of yours. This is one of the most artistic films I've seen. It's so powerful, and so unique. From what I've read, each person who has seen this film has had a different experience. They've had different interpretations, simply because no human being is the same. Tarkovsky once said, "A book read by a thousand different people is a thousand different books." That is applied for this film. The only issues I found myself having with The Mirror (1975) were the performances - well "one" in particular. I felt like Margarita Terekhova, who played the Mother (and some other characters) was too distant. Sometimes I connected with her deeply, but other times I couldn't. This is probably associated with the fact that she does play multiple different characters in the film (each with different names, ages, and looks). It's confusing at first, but when you begin to think about why she plays multiple characters, it clicks. By the end of the film, I had some sort of comprehension as to why she played the characters she did, and it makes sense why I had trouble with the connection. All other performances are pretty good (to see Anatoliy Solonitsyn make a cameo was awesome. Even though he had a very minuscule role, it was perfectly executed). I absolutely loved how this film was layered, written, shot, and directed. I'm interested in rewatching this film to see how different it is a second time. If certain themes are more prominent, and if it's a completely different experience (I have a feeling it is, because of how layered it is). What I find really interesting is the influence this film has had. There is a scene involving a decoy grenade that looks oddly similar to a recent mainstream film's use of a decoy grenade. That film is Captain America: The First Avenger (2011). The set up and the way it was used show some pretty similar parallels. I wouldn't be surprised if The Mirror (1975) inspired Captain America: The First Avenger's (2011) use of this decoy grenade situation. (That's probably a stretch, just because I would think that both those situations have happened in real life, but who knows?) The Mirror (1975) forces you to reflect on yourself, and on our character's lives. It has the power to bring you to tears. It is a truly remarkable piece of cinema that is full of complexity, depth, and beauty. The best way to describe this film is to watch it. Tarkovsky holds up a mirror to his audience, himself, and the world around him in an original, artistic, and life changing way. The Mirror (1975) is a poetic masterpiece.

Solaris (1972)

Tarkovsky's "Artistic Failure"

[8/10 · 17 April 2020]

Solaris (1972) - [8/10]

I am disappointed. This film could have been so much better than what it was - it had so much potential. Solaris (1972) was Andrei Tarkovsky's least favorite film that he made, and I agree. I gave this film an 8/10 but in reality I gave it a 78% (I just round up or down when converting the percentage into my ?/10 ratings). My reasoning for that rating is the fact that it lacked emotion that was needed, style, personal-ness, and (most importantly) art that Tarkovsky religiously includes in his films. It was very entertaining, thoughtful, and overall quite great, but it wasn't a "Tarkovsky" film (for the record all Tarkovsky films are really, really good. Some are simply more amazing than the rest, and some are just less amazing. Regardless, they're all considered to be spectacular works of cinema and I highly recommend watching at least one in your lifetime.) Solaris (1972) was the film that put Andrei Tarkovsky on the map, and this saddens me. If only Andrei Rublev (1966) hadn't gone through so many issues in being showcased globally (as well as throughout the Soviet Union in most places). That could have been the first film that introduced the world to Andrei Tarkovsky, but it wasn't. I consider Andrei Rublev (1966) to be a perfect masterpiece, and I think it's probably one of my favorite films ever made, so to see this film and put myself in the place of someone who had never seen a Tarkovsky film, let alone even heard his name, makes me upset. They would have gotten a completely different definition of who Andrei Tarkovsky was than if the world could have been introduced to him from Andrei Rublev (1966). Solaris (1972) wasn't made for the right reasons. Andrei Rublev (1966) had cost so much time, money, and stress for Tarkovsky because it hadn't made back any of it's budget - because it hadn't gotten a wide release (!!!!). To add insult to injury, the film Tarkovsky wanted to make at that time (and the screenplay he had written) was rejected - he would later make that film as The Mirror (1975). This placed Tarkovsky in a tough spot. He couldn't make the film he wanted to make, and the film he spent years making hadn't made a dime (it was later released globally in 1973). So, he had to make a choice: adapt the highly successful novel, Solaris (1961), that guaranteed commercial success or to not make a film for a very long time - and obviously he chose the former. I don't blame him at all for choosing to make Solaris (1972). He set out to bring emotional depth to the science-fiction genre (of which he really didn't like in the first place) with this film. It was received exceptionally well, and it makes sense. On one side of the spectrum, there was Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) and then there was Andrei Tarkovsky's Solaris (1972). Tarkovsky did not see Kubrick's film until after this comparison was made. He felt that 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) was too lifeless and sterile. Both films are made quite well and tell different stories about space. Kubrick tells a story of humanity (and the loss of it) through space travel, and Tarkovsky tells a story of love (and the loss of it) through space. There are certain aspects about both films that I prefer over the other (and some that are even similar to each other), but I think to compare them is impossible. Solaris (1972) has excellent cinematography (from Vadim Yusov of course), a very complex story, and some good performances. But overall something doesn't sit well with me. (I'm sorry I haven't really talked about the film too much, and if this review doesn't really help in explaining whether or not you should see it, definitely do. It's a slow burn, but totally worth it. If you're into Sci-Fi, it's a must see. Picture The Shining's (1980) hallucination scenes in space.) I think the best way to describe how I feel about this film (and I think how Tarkovsky felt filming this) is one particular scene. Kris Kelvin (Donatas Banionis) tries to wrap his head around what is truly happening to himself and fellow crew mates, as a result of the planet Solaris. We cut to him standing against a shelf, his entire body shifted towards an none other than an Andrei Rublev icon. He stares at this icon with an expression difficult to describe. An expression of sadness, but with a sense of regret, longing, and despair. A "What have I done?" look. Given all the circumstances around this film, Tarkovsky is clearly trying to tell us something. He's pained with the fact that his masterpiece, Andrei Rublev (1966), hasn't been released to a greater audience and is saddened by the fact that he has to make the very film he dislikes (Sci-Fi films) to make The Mirror (1975). He included this scene because he regrets choosing to film Solaris (1972), an "artistic failure" (his words not mine), and not being able to film The Mirror (1975). (Even the quote I chose can be compared to my claim that Tarkovsky did not like this film. He writes that "We need a mirror." to be held up to the human race, not to look to other worlds.) I think the biggest issue Tarkovsky had was that all of his iconic shot techniques were taken away with the setting of space. Typically Tarkovsky includes metaphors of nature and Earth in his films, but how are you able to do that in space? How are you able to capture the beauty of nature in a place devoid of that very thing? His poetic cinema style was forced to be replaced with techniques that did not "transcend its genre". Andrei Rublev (1966) is able to balance entertainment and art, creating an incredibly involved epic as well as an incredibly artistic film. Solaris (1972) is very entertaining (at times I was on the edge of my seat), but it sacrificed art for entertainment. Solaris (1972) is a science-fiction classic that captures a unique story of love and mystery, but fails to produce the same artistic style, emotion, personal-ness , and mastery that Tarkovsky is known for.

The Steamroller and the Violin (1961)

The Beginnings of a Master

[8/10 · 15 April 2020]

The Steamroller and the Violin (1961) - [8/10]

This is Andrei Tarkovsky's film school diploma awarding short. This film is vastly important. Important because it is the reason we have the seven feature films Tarkovsky made before his untimely passing in 1986. Without The Steamroller and the Violin (1961), Tarkovsky would have never found future work. He would be lost. Lost in his own Voyage in Time (1983). This film is overlooked. I think it's one of the finest short films (as well as student films) I've seen. Everything about it screams potential. Potential on all fronts, but especially from Tarkovsky. Although it runs at only 46 minutes, each minute features Tarkovsky finding his style. From experimentation with mirrors to beautiful reflections, each shot is gorgeous. Each line of dialogue has a purpose - it isn't expositional, but realistic. And the story is remarkable - it shouldn't work but it does. With all these things and more, Tarkovsky strongly believes that cinema is an important art form and The Steamroller and the Violin (1961) stands as a testament to just that. Tarkovsky started out extremely ambitious with this short. He challenged his fellow students, doubling the length of their other diploma films, and even tried to hire an award winning cinematographer (Sergei Urusevsky) to work on it. The goal of this short wasn't to earn his diploma (well part of it was), but to become a valuable member of the Soviet film industry. And that he did. After this film, he was able to make his first feature film, Ivan's Childhood (1962). There's a lot of "good" in this film, but it isn't perfect. Much like Tarkovsky's own style, he is only just developing and the film reflects that. The staging of each shot is amazing. Characters stand, move, and drive steamrollers across the screen like it is a ballet. All the while, the camera is the ballet master. It moves with the characters, against the characters, and watches the characters. One of the best parts of this film is the cinematography because of this character-camera relationship. The cinematography also reflects Tarkovsky's own artistic style. At this point it was only just developing - his long, unbroken takes, mirror shots, rain symbolism, unique angles, and daydreaming sequences - but it is amazing to see this developing style in action. The camera and cinematography really becomes another character in this film and it works. It works really well. The only imperfections I found in the cinematography were when I could see the shadow of the camera, and even that is hardly noticeable. The other best part about this film is its story. Andrei Tarkovsky, Andrey Konchalovskiy, and S. Bakhmetyeva collaborated to write this film. The story is so tight. Everything is wrote with such complexity. There is vast symbolism and other artistic devices in each line of dialogue. Yet at the same time, each line feels completely realistic. There aren't many lines of dialogue in this film (Tarkovsky was a minimalist filmmaker, only using dialogue when he absolutely had to. He would use it to propel the plot forward and give important information but otherwise, he would use the "show don't tell" concept religiously.) but each line of dialogue has meaning (and the absence of of dialogue has meaning as well). Meaning not because the audience has given meaning to the film and have tried to find symbolism, foreshadowing, etc. but because Tarkovsky made it with meaning; he made it as art. The story shouldn't work. A film about a seven year old boy and an adult steamroller's growing friendship is not your typical story. I think if this hadn't been a student film, it would never have been made. Kids are supposed to stay away from strangers, especially adult strangers, but in this film the two become friends. Stranger and child. It sounds very unorthodox on paper, but on film it is beautiful. Tarkovsky juxtaposes violin to steamroller, youth to age, and poor to "rich". He spearheads the message that friends come in strange places, and that two things that seem to oppose each other often need each other to live their lives in harmony. I wish this film was longer because it felt incomplete. It wrapped up rather quickly and I wanted to see even more from our complex characters (Sasha and Sergei). There was also one sequence that wasn't executed too well. There were tons of continuity errors and fast cutting (something Tarkovsky grew to especially dislike). I was actually taken aback by that sequence. It makes complete sense when you think about the sequence afterwards, but it feels out of place altogether. This film was the birthplace of one of the greatest auteurs in film history. The Steamroller and the Violin (1961) is an excellent place to start when trying to figure out Tarkovsky's beginnings, style, and love for cinema. It isn't perfect, but it has traces of perfection layered throughout its 46 minute runtime. Perfection that will be mastered and improved upon in later films. It is brilliant to witness Tarkovsky develop his own style throughout the course of this film and a great place to start for the Andrei Tarkovsky Appreciation Event.

Ivan's Childhood (1962)

Not a Masterpiece, but a Film that is created by a soon-to-be Master

[8/10 · 15 April 2020]

Ivan's Childhood (1962) - [8/10]

Ivan's Childhood (1962) was the directorial debut of Andrei Tarkovsky to mainstream cinema. This film is probably one of the greatest directorial debuts, as well as war films, in film history (Damien Chazelle with Whiplash (2014) and Orson Welles with Citizen Kane (1941) also are up there with really amazing first feature films). Ivan's Childhood (1962) is extremely interesting. It is not your typical war film, focusing on characters and their relationship with war; its effects on the human psyche. War strips away everything good in humanity. Children have to grow up. Adults have to fight. And the Earth weeps at the damage we sow across its face. Usually war films will focus on the "action" of war, the fighting, explosions, and death. Ivan's Childhood (1962) focuses on, not the "action", but the "reaction" of particular events. In some (if not most) instances the audience sees all the events leading up to a particular "action", but then the film cuts away, showcasing how this unseen event changed our characters. For the most part this technique really worked. There was only one or two instances where I felt the film would have been better if we saw this "action" because characters seemed to change a little too drastically without much mention of what "happened". But this film goes against mainstream war films' cliches and accomplishes something unique, original, and meaningful. Part of how it accomplishes this is through Andrei Tarkovsky's signature cinematography. Vadim Yusov worked with Tarkovsky on The Steamroller and the Violin (1961), so as Tarkovsky's own style developed, so did Yusov's relationship with him. The cinematography is breathtaking. There is so much symbolism between our characters (Ivan played by Nikolay Burlyaev, Kholin from Valentin Zubkov, Galtsev by Evgeniy Zharikov, and Katasonov from Stepan Krylov) and how this film is shot. At important moments, the camera would perform complex movements - long, sweeping, tracking shots - or it would stay completely still for a period of two minutes as the actors would bring this story to the screen. The diversity of different shots and when they're used is how filmmaking and cinematography should be. There should be a lot of meaning in everything, beginning with how you capture a scene. Tarkovsky and Yusov clearly believed this. Every type of shot is used, from close ups to beautiful wide shots. These shots are enhanced with how the scenes are staged, acted, and designed. The choice to film in black and white was a wise one (color film was accessible at this time, Tarkovsky had used color in The Steamroller and the Violin (1961) ), as it captured the contrast between light and darkness. That darkness encompasses a majority of the screen, truly showing how dark war is. It is contrasted with Ivan's childhood, filled with light and nature, so when the opening of the film jumps from joy to a depressing, war torn world, it works (Ivan's Childhood (1962) features an amazing opening). Tarkovsky oozes potential with this first film. Techniques he used in The Steamroller and the Violin (1961) were expanded upon and mastered. He began trying out new stylistic devices that became part of his signature with Ivan's Childhood (1962). He utilizes dream sequences that are entirely metaphoric, minimal edits, the dripping of water in the sound design, fire versus water imagery, and rich, symbolic, dialogue. This film is also very personal for Tarkovsky, and you can feel it. He grew up during WWII, much like Ivan did. He clearly feels that when war strikes, everyone's humanity, childhood, and sanity disappears. The most human moments a person can have are forced (the legendary trench kiss) unwillingly upon recipients with war. Our childhoods disappear, only but remnants of our past. Childhoods feel as if they were simply dreams of a time when everything was better, lighter, and happier. Children are forced to grow up, and in some cases mature faster than adults (Ivan is more tightly wound than most - if not all - the adults in this film and actually commands some of the adult characters what to do). The way humans are able to think is stolen. We are driven insane with war. Be it from revenge consuming our every thought (Ivan) or from the loss of everything material and spiritual (the man with the chicken), war steals the very thing that makes us human - our ability to think clearly. All of these ideas and more encompass this film. Tarkovsky influenced many other films with Ivan's Childhood (1962), most notably Come and See (1985) which pulls direct parallels from his first film. He was also influenced by many other filmmakers, Stanley Kubrick for example. There is a trench scene that quite resembles the many in Paths of Glory (1957), and it works. The best artists steal to make their art. Art that will consistently change over time, will be stolen from, and will change lives. Tarkovsky created a new type of war film with Ivan's Childhood (1962) and a new type of filmmaking. A sincere, poetic, and symbolic type of filmmaking. This film doesn't feel like a directorial debut. It already has a clear sense of style and storytelling. It's incredible. Tarkovsky started out extremely ambitious with his first feature film, and it payed off. Most directors would choose to play it safe. Make a film that would do well, but a film that isn't as unique or stylistic as other, established directors', films. This ambition and confidence paid off. Ivan's Childhood (1962) may not be a masterpiece, but it is made from a creator who is a soon-to-be master of filmmaking.

Andrei Rublev (1966)

The Journey that is Andrei Rublev (1966)

[10/10 · 15 April 2020]

Andrei Rublev (1966) - [10/10]

I typically take notes when viewing films that I will review or analyze, but for this film I did not. I did not take notes so that I could experience this film. Experience Andrei Rublev (1966) like it was meant to be experienced. No distractions, complete patience, and an open mind. After viewing the film, I realized something... I did not need to take notes to write this review. I know exactly what this film did well, and what exactly it didn't do well: it did everything perfectly. I am so glad that I viewed this film with complete and utter focus because it was a jaw-dropping experience. It is a cinematic masterpiece on all fronts. From cinematography to acting. From set decorating to directing. From writing to sound design. Everything is and was perfect. If you can't tell, I'm absolutely astounded by this film. Hopefully I can portray exactly how I felt viewing this masterpiece in the following review and, that being said, let's start with the Writer/Director himself, Andrei Tarkovsky. Ivan's Childhood (1962) was his first feature film. It was bold, ambitious, and very good. Andrei Rublev (1966) was his second feature film. It was bold, ambitious, and amazing. He excelled in everything that he had set out to do. The things that weren't as well developed in Ivan's Childhood (1962) were mastered in this film. Every little thing is masterful. It isn't pretentious (which I feared going into watching this for the first time) but it is art. Tarkovsky converts life into art. Because after all, art mimics life. He takes one man's life story - his triumphs, struggles in faith, and the destruction of the world around him, and makes it something personal and universal. It's amazing. He splits this man's life (Andrei Rublev) into eight significant parts. Each spanning a variety of years apart from each other. We see the beginning, the middle, and the end of Andrei Rublev's life. It is a character study of extreme proportions. Some of the eight parts only feature Rublev for a small amount of time, yet it all contributes to his story and development. Alongside Rublev, there are other interweaving characters. Each have their own character studies that are extremely important to the plot. To accomplish multiple character studies that contribute to the main character's (and title of the film's) own development is amazing. This is only a portion of the film's complexity. The amount of direction that went into this production is jaw-dropping. Tarkovsky converted 20th century Russia into 15th century Russia. There are 360 degree pans in this film, showcasing how much work went into designing a real, functioning, 15th century Russia. There is a sequence that features hundreds upon hundreds of extras (as well as horses) and each extra is acting to the best of their abilities. I actually rewound this part to see if an extra was off or not doing something, and not a single one wasn't a part of the scene. Not a single one. Each extra contributed to the greater whole of that sequence. Everything in frame is purposeful and expertly directed and, most importantly, crafted with care. The cinematography keeps getting better. With each film, Tarkovsky and Yusov improve, this film featuring tons of beautiful one shot takes, complex camera movements, and shots that leave you wondering, "How did they do that?" There is a lot of meaning behind every frame of this film, and that subtlety adds to the overall experience of Andrei Rublev (1966). One of the main examples of the meaning behind each shot is the choice to film in black and white. At the very end of the film, it switches (similar to The Wizard of Oz (1939) ) from black and white to color. It's absolutely beautiful and has so much purpose and meaning - it is an excellent ending to this masterpiece. (The film is so well done and when I could feel the ending coming, I was really scared that the ending was going to be terrible and ruin the film. It wasn't. It was perfect.) The majority of each frame also features our main characters: Anatoliy Solonitsyn as Andrei Rublev, Ivan Lapikov as Kirill, and Nikolay Grinko as Danil. Each performance is spectacular and way before its time, but most notably from Anatoliy Solonitsyn. Andrei Tarkovsky discovered him, so this was his first feature film. Watching his performance, you would never think that. He was born to play this role - and to become an actor. From the moment we are introduced to our main character (Solonitsyn) we become attached to him. He caries himself with such soul and emotion, you can't help but sympathize with him. For some portion of the film, he does not talk. Andrei Rublev enacts a vow of silence for the sin(s) he has committed. Solonitsyn is able to portray exactly what Rublev is thinking, feeling, and dreaming without uttering a single word. In the rest of the film (when Rublev talks), each line of dialogue is perfectly executed. Solonitsyn has become one of my favorite actors with this performance. Andrei Tarkovsky brought Anatoliy Solonitsyn's potential to the screen, and pushed his talents to where they needed to be to carry the film. Andrei Tarkovsky and Andrey Konchalovskiy co-wrote this epic film. They wrote the other films I have reviewed as well (The Steamroller and the Violin (1961) and Ivan's Childhood (1962) ). This is a humongous step up from those previous films. Andrei Rublev (1966) has such a complex story and such meaning, perfectly encapsulating the "show don't tell" methodology. As a writer, I cherish this film. Each line of dialogue is purposeful, but not at the surface. Only after 5-10 minutes of each line of dialogue (or even the end of the film) do you realize the purpose of particular lines. A lot of this film is like that: you don't realize the significance of what you're watching until it hits you. It hits you like a slap in the face, but at that point there are so many more significant parts of the film that you're still trying to process that you can't help but keep watching, to decode even more. I absolutely love the complexity and meaning of this film. I cried a total of three times during this 3 hour and 25 minute epic. All three times for different reasons. The first, because of the emotion and depth of one particular sequence. The second, because of the sadness and struggle our characters are put through. And the third, because of the beauty this film is - I didn't want it to end. If you're looking for an entertaining film, you can still watch this film and have a good time. But if you're looking for a complex film, you can watch this film and it can change your life. In my opinion, this is cinema. The balance between art and entertainment. A film that can be watched multiple times and feel like it is the first time. A film that can change your perspective, open your mind to new ideas, cultures, and people, and become apart of you. Tarkovsky takes you on a journey. A journey of faith, destruction, and hope. That journey is Andrei Rublev (1966).

Last Call (III) (2019)

See this film.

[7/10 · 6 April 2020]

Last Call (2019) - [7/10]

Wow. This film was absolutely remarkable. I went into Last Call (2019) expecting the worst, and got the best short film I think I've seen (definitely a 9/10). It is incredibly emotional, tense, as well as artistic. The one-shot take was not used as a gimmick (like I feared it would going into the film) but, enhanced the viewing experience. The split screen composition of the film was a bit unique in the beginning of the film, (just because we've never really seen that before) but it made absolute sense. Gavin Michael Booth created an extraordinary short, but I don't review short films. I review features. So, I am going to treat this review (and film) as if it were a feature film.

With that being said, let's start with the very beginning - the screenplay. Gavin Michael Booth and Daved Wilkins (also the co-star of the film) did a really good job writing this story - a story that needed to be told. Each piece of dialogue, even from the very beginning of the film, serves a purpose and is brought back by the end of this extremely realistic narrative. At times the dialogue can come off as a tad expositional and on-the-nose, but those moments don't come close to the number of times I said to myself, "That's a great line." Booth and Wilkins evolve this complex story in a unique way. A way that makes you question how they were in fact able to do so. At a certain point in the film, all that we've seen story-wise begins to click together. We begin to predict what will happen next, but at that point Booth and Wilkins' writings are two steps ahead of us. With the subject matter this film was focused on, it is easy to become predictable. And this wasn't predictable. From the beginning of the film, we can't even imagine how these characters are going to cross paths - rather cross telephone lines. It's really good. They tell a very important story and are able to portray an important message in doing so. The writing is the heart of a film and without a great director, feelings that come from the heart can be lost. No feelings were lost in this film.

Gavin Michael Booth showcased great directorial talent in this emotional film. Each emotion was carried out. One minute you were punched in the gut because of what happened on screen, and the next you were beginning to tear up because of our characters. I really felt like some moments could have pushed to be more emotional, pushing the envelope of what we see onscreen, but I can see why the decision was made not to do so. What it must have come down to is the choice to have constant emotion or the choice to build emotion in large crescendos only then to decrescendo into nothing; he chose the latter. I have a lot of respect for Booth. The amount of staging and blocking that went into the film must have been immense, but it definitely payed off. The characters were never really doing nothing, and if they were, it didn't feel boring. Be it from the rich dialogue or from the excellent camera movements (I'll talk about that more later), we were constantly engrossed in the film. I feel like sometimes our characters were moving a little too much. Constantly doing stuff, only to make it obvious when they weren't doing stuff. This would then open a space for emotional moments to hit. It makes a lot of sense why they were doing stuff, but I would have liked a little more moments of "just talking" without movements. The director is only able to conjure as much emotion as the actors are able to portray, so the role of the actor is to make these emotions dance across the screen.

There were really only two characters in this film, Beth (Sarah Booth) and Scott (Daved Wilkins). Both of these actors give quite good performances - Sarah Booth especially. She was able to give a completely raw and emotional performance that this film needed. As a direct contrast to Booth, Wilkins portrayed a distant and emotionless Scott perfectly in order to make this juxtaposition to happen. Sarah Booth is a definite standout in this film. She serves as a point of reference for the audience, and it works. From the very first scene, we associate ourselves with her and begin our journey. I found myself completely astounded at the emotion she was able to bring to the screen - at one moment in particular I got goosebumps. Wilkins portrayed his character like he needed to - emotionally distant and frightened with himself. I really liked the moments where we would get to see the "Real Scott." As if he would wake up from his intoxication, we would see who this guy really is (and who he could be). Very good performance by Wilkins. The actors are only able to portray emotion when it is captured by the camera. In that way, the camera movements have to translate this emotion for the audience to see.

This film was really immersive, in the way 1917 (2019) and Rope (1948) are, but without the hidden cuts. It is all filmed in a one-shot take and it serves a purpose. I feared that this film would simply use the technique as a way to make itself standout, but it didn't. It was really purposeful. It really helped bring the tension and emotion onscreen, as we were really with our two characters; we were with our two characters because of the split screen. It was really an ingenious idea to use split screen because without it, this film wouldn't have worked. If it wasn't one-shot I don't think it would have worked as effectively either. That being said, there were moments where close-ups and alternate angles could have helped the film (and probably improved it), but because it is one-shot it wouldn't have worked. It was better to sacrifice these alternate shots and angles then to sacrifice the immersive nature of the one-shot take. Seth Wessel-Estes did a great job finding moments that were beautiful. Be it from finding clever framing or perfect shots for both different locations. It's incredible to think about how they made this film. It was filmed in two separate locations at the same time, yet they were able to film moments where it was as if they weren't. The only issue I had with some of the cinematography was that it was a little too shaky. It was kind of disorienting when one section of the screen was shaky, but the other wasn't. Also, there were moments when I could see the reflection of the cameraman, but that's really hard to get around. Overall the cinematography was really effective in portraying this story in a unique way. The cinematography is able to portray emotion through sight, but what we are able to hear is an incredibly different sense.

The composer, Adrian Ellis, did an excellent job with the music. The soundtrack ties this film together. Our characters are not always talking, so in comes the soundtrack. It perfectly portrays the mood of the film. Really great job from Ellis.

With all of these different skills combined, Last Call (2019) is able to create a living, breathing film. It squeezes all emotion out of you (as well as its characters) and aside from a few errors (like time period technology. It wasn't clear when this film took place, and some set pieces contradicted others i.e. flip phones vs rooms full of desktop computers) this film is really good. When the phone rings, you never know who might be on the other side, needing your help. When Last Call (2019) begins, you never truly know how it will impact you, until it does.

Lawrence of Arabia (1962)

A Timeless Classic

[10/10 · 3 April 2020]

Lawrence of Arabia (1962) - [10/10]

Now this is an epic. An epic of epic proportions. To make a 3 hour and 48 minute film in the 60s, that didn't have many stars, no sort of love story, minimal action, a budget of 15 million dollars, and film it completely in the deserts of the Middle East is a feat in itself. It was shot in 285 days, won 7 Academy Awards, and has an actual intermission! Films simply aren't made like that anymore. Steven Spielberg once said that to film a similar film like this today would cost around 258 million dollars. It's extraordinary - just like T. E. Lawrence. I love this film, and so do many others, Steven Spielberg, Martin Scorsese, James Cameron, David Fincher, and Roger Ebert. There's a reason why we are infatuated with this film. It's timeless. This film holds up today, 58 years later, because it was filmed completely naturally. No sort of CGI backgrounds, remote location filming, or absurd action sequences; it was all real. They actually blew up trains in the desert, flew planes through rocky plateaus, and traveled across the desert on camelback. That's why it took 285 days to film! There are plenty of scenes where our characters travel across the scorching desert, and there isn't a human being in sight - let alone prior footprints (it's the small things that really tie this film together). It's spectacular.

Let me begin with one of the many things this film is praised for, the cinematography. It is gorgeous. That is the reason I chose to use 17 pictures in this recommendation (and I wish I could've used more). Not a single shot isn't perfect. The cinematography, from F. A. Young, inserts us into this foreign world (and foreign story) of Arabia with the long, sweeping takes of the desert. Simply seeing the sun rise over the desert is an amazing experience. In (probably) the best shot of the film, we witness a mirage. Up to this point (I can't recall any other films with mirages), no film had ever captured this optical illusion. It's beautiful. A lot of the shots in Lawrence of Arabia (1962) are taken for granted. Just think about having to lug a Super Panavision-70 film camera (it's pretty big) out into the desert and film these complex crane shots, tracking shots, and extreme wide shots. Just the opening sequence is complex, they filmed a motorcycle POV scene. By today's standards that isn't complex at all, but can you imagine having to mount a gigantic camera on the front of a truck, operate it, and film the road in the 1960s?? Revolutionary. The average length of each shot in this film is also fairly long. That has a purpose; it cements us into the desert with our characters. Like I said, it's the small things that tie this film together. The things you may not think about. Those are the extraordinary things about Lawrence of Arabia (1962).

David freaking Lean. What an amazing director. He had a vision, to tell a story that was lost in time, and to tell it with utmost respect for historical accuracies. He's the one that pushed everything to the next level. To film in the desert. To film everything real. He was able to manage all these moving parts, capture small amounts of emotion in large landscapes, and create a masterpiece of filmmaking. There are sequences (many actually) that I sat there and wondered, "How on Earth are they doing this?" There are countless amounts of extras, camels, horses, and sets in this film. I have never seen so many moving parts onscreen. He is a new inspiration for me as an aspiring director. He is the reason we have filmmakers like Spielberg, Scorsese, Cameron, and Fincher. And he is the reason we have this masterpiece that is Lawrence of Arabia (1962).

I need to talk about the score. Maurice Jarre composed the titles that would be performed by the London Philharmonic Orchestra, and it is beautiful. Never have I really been moved by a score like this one. The opening of the film is just a black screen for a period of about 5 minutes. In that five minutes, we hear the Overture of the film. Oh how it places you into this film. The black screen allows you just to imagine what you're going to see on screen and what you imagine is what this film ends up being. If there was ever a sound I would associate the desert with, it would be what we hear in the film. It is beyond iconic and one of the greatest scores in film history. It completely adds to the astonishment and experience that Lawrence of Arabia (1962) is. Listening to it again, I can feel the film playing in my soul. It's brilliant.

The casting is beyond perfect. If you look at actual pictures of the real Lawrence of Arabia, T. E. Lawrence, and Peter O'Toole, it is uncanny. They are pretty much the same person. Alec Guinness actually plays an Arabian Prince in this film, and it is believable (times were different back then, as he was brown-faced). In fact when they were filming, some of the people that actually knew Prince Faisal (Alec Guinness' character) believed it was really him. I would say that is pretty great casting as well (regardless of whether or not it is culturally sensitive right at this time, Alec Guinness was really good in his role as Prince Faisal). Anthony Quinn as Auda Abu Tayi and Omar Sharif as Sherif Ali are spectacular. A lot of the performances are really above their time. This was Peter O'Toole's first mainstream role and he killed it. He carried the story extremely well, and was able to be the imperfect, larger-than-life, T. E. Lawrence. Whenever Alec Guinness was onscreen, you knew he was there. He had such authority in the film and really gave a great performance. The chemistry throughout the entire cast is golden. Especially O'Toole and Sharif. They work off of each other and you can't help but smile when you see them together. You can't help but smile throughout this entire film.

The writing is above its time as well. Spielberg stated that this script is probably the best in film history, and I agree. It is really good. Story elements, important plot points, and key narrative ingredients are set into action within the first 30 minutes if the film. It's perfect. The dialogue is also extremely natural (probably because it was based off of T. E. Lawrence's own writings) but, at the same time expositional. You don't know you're getting these important details until they happen. At 268 pages of script, you would think the story would have moments where it slows down - you would think that. It doesn't. It just builds and builds and builds. I found that the runtime just flew by, and it wasn't a problem at all. I was so engrossed in this amazing narrative that it didn't matter. I guess time really does fly when you're having fun.

The last thing I'll touch on is the editing - you do not notice it. According to Scorsese, the best editing isn't noticeable. I 1000% agree. The editing in this film isn't noticeable. It's timed perfectly. Great work by Anne V. Coates. I can't imagine having to look at all the footage that they filmed and trim it down. There are moments in this film that you can't even see the cuts. It's not noticeable, and that's how it should be.

A lot is said in this film without the utterance of a single word. Be it a glance from Peter O'Toole or the heat seen radiating off of the desert floor, a lot is said. The soundtrack serves as the words to the audience's ears. The Arabian landscape serves as the structure of each soundless sentence. The actions and visuals of each character serve as the punctuation at the end of each of these sentences. All of these devices form the sentences that are spoken in Lawrence of Arabia (1962). This film is fantastic on so many levels. It is a great character study. It is a great war film. It is a once in a lifetime experience. I love this film, and I hope you will too. Lawrence of Arabia (1962) is a timeless classic that still holds up today, and in some ways is better than most films being made right now. I highly recommend - no. You need to see this film. This is a film that everyone should watch in their lifetime. This is Lawrence of Arabia (1962).

Lost in Translation (2003)

The Universal Language of Lost in Translation (2003)

[10/10 · 30 March 2020]

Lost in Translation (2003) - [10/10]

I really don't know what to say. It's incredibly hard to put into words the experience I just went through and witnessed. I guess I'll start with where it all began: the Coppola family. Jeez Louise what on Earth are the Coppola's eating for breakfast? Francis Ford Coppola and wife Eleanor Coppola must be feeding their children some sort of filmmaking breakfast, because all three of their children (themselves included) are spectacular filmmakers. Roman Coppola, Sofia Coppola, and Gian-Carlo Coppola all have done something remarkable in film; particularly Sofia. Whatever it is they're eating, I want some. Sofia Coppola crafted an exquisite piece of cinema in the form of Lost in Translation (2003). This film is so remarkably written, I am not at all surprised she won Best Writing, Original Screenplay at the 76th Academy Awards. In my opinion I would have loved to see her win more, such as Best Director (she was actually the third female director to ever be nominated for that category) but Peter Jackson definitely deserved it. I don't think I would have been able to decide between Coppola and Jackson. Everything feels so natural in Lost in Translation (2003). It doesn't feel scripted, and that's how amazing it is. The events that unfold are unpredictable, simply because life is unpredictable. It is so subtle, everything she sets up I mean, yet at the same time it isn't. It takes multiple viewings to pick up on some of the subtleties because there are so many. Things that are mentioned, seen, or even thought from our leads come back in new ways. It's really the subtleness of the film that impacts the audience the most. These subtle things suddenly reappear right before the audience's eyes and it's beautiful to see. The direction is masterful. Clearly she's picked up some things from her father, and improved upon those things. She's able to conjure emotions in her characters and in the audience, emotions that have never crossed the cinema screen. It's spectacular in that way. I felt things I have never felt before. This film is real. It is incredibly real, to the point where it's almost as if you're watching a documentary and a small portion of two people's lives. We're able to really empathize with these characters as a result. These characters are real people that could exist, and probably do. For a large portion of the film, I forgot I was watching Bill Murray and Scarlett Johansson acting. Masterful direction and writing makes you feel lost in this film. Lost in the beauty. This film completely changed the dramatic romance genre. It wasn't focused on a man or a woman. It was focused on both at the same time. It doesn't feel like a romance, yet at the same time it does. It's really interesting. The characters in this film aren't necessarily in love with each other, but they need each other. They need each other for that portion of their lives and it changes them. Just as it can change the audience that views this film. We get the sense that this is not your typical romance film from the very first, opening shot. It isn't about physical love, but emotional love for each other's well-being. The impact this film had can be seen in many other films such as Her (2013). Spike Jonze actually wrote and directed it, Sofia Coppola's ex-husband. A lot of Lost in Translation (2003) is actually based off of her experiences in Tokyo with Spike Jonze which is quite interesting. I actually prefer this film over Her (2013), but both are really similar. I think it can be said that without Lost in Translation (2003), pieces like Her (2013) would not have been made. The casting in this film is perfect. No one else could have pulled this off if Bill Murray and Scarlett Johansson weren't cast. The age gap was not a problem. It wasn't weird or disgusting, but oddly beautiful. We smiled with their characters. We laughed with their characters. We cried with their characters. If someone else played Bob Harris (Murray's character) it would have been creepy. He was perfect in this film. He truly became his character (partly because Coppola wrote his role with him in mind). His mannerism, eyes, facial expressions, how he sits, stands - everything is purposeful and believable. I was able to tell what his character was thinking just from his eyes, and I knew exactly what he was going to do next before it even happened. There's a reason he was nominated for Best Actor. He should have won. This is probably my favorite performance by him and is actually his favorite film he's made. He's hilarious, serious, but at the same time you can tell he's pained and that something is terribly wrong. Masterful acting on his part. Scarlett Johansson is really good in this film as well. She utilized the same techniques that Murray did, as she also became her character. She was only 17 when this was being filmed, so to be able to pull off the things she did is quite incredible. Her skill as an actress can be seen in this performance at a very young age. A lot of this film is just that - incredible. A lot of people become upset with this film's depiction of Tokyo. It relies on a lot of Japanese stereotypes in the form of animated caricatures of people. I didn't find it disrespectful at all. As a tourist in a foreign country I know that that's how I've felt towards the different peoples and cultures. You really only see the stereotypes because you don't quite understand their people. It is no different in this film. We center on two Americans in the foreign world of Japan, so it only makes sense that we only see the stereotypes of Japan because that is what out characters see. It isn't meant to be insensitive, it is meant to be true. (I know the length of this review is long, so I'll try and simplify other parts if the film.) The cinematography is really beautiful and meaningful. The soundtrack is perfect to place us in the shoes of our characters. The editing is perfect. Everything about this film is perfect. I truly enjoy and love this film. It's probably my favorite romance film ever. It's a masterpiece. It is the small moments that hit hard. Such as the moments where, typically, the love interests in a romantic film would get intimate, but in this film they don't. Instead, our two characters simply talk. They talk about their problems, and solve them for each other without directly knowing they did so. These are the types of moments that come together to form Lost in Translation (2003). Some phrases aren't always the same when translated into different languages. Films aren't always the same when translated into different languages. People aren't always the same in different, new locations. A lot is lost in the act of this translation (or relocation in terms of people traveling). But what is never lost and what is the universal language, is emotion. Emotion is never lost in Sofia Coppola's Lost in Translation (2003). Sometimes it will hit you like a brick. Other times it will softly tap on your shoulder - or whisper in your ear. But emotion, emotion is constant throughout this film. This universal language whispers into your ear as you watch this masterpiece, it whispers and whispers until the words are incomprehensible. And at that point, the film resolves. (This film features one of my favorite endings in film history). These final words stay with you as the credits roll, and as the experience that is (and was) Lost in Translation (2003) ends - it only just begins. Coppola plants a seed in your soul that begins to sprout as the credits roll. It begins to sprout seconds after the film is over. Minute after minute. Hour after hour. Day after day. Week after week. Month after month. And in some cases, year after year. This seed is the universal language - emotion. That is what a film should do. The best films begin when you walk out of the theater. This film has the power to change you through that seed, if you let it. It will open your eyes to new ideas, feelings, peoples - and emotions. Lost in Translation (2003) is a film that will become a part of you after viewing it (you'll be bilingual in a new universal language as well). It is incredibly hard to translate how I felt to words, because it is such an experience. So I highly encourage each of you to watch this film for yourself. To feel what I felt. To experience what I experienced. (This film is very much not rated R. There is only one sequence in this film that makes it R and it is completely useless. It lasts for 1 minute and 3 seconds, but it is pointless. If that is the main reason why you haven't seen this film, I can send you the timestamp and explain what happens so you can skip over it. You need to see this film). Even as I finish this review, a lot of how I felt is indescribable. I fear that what I have translated from this universal language will be lost. Lost in Translation (2003).

Prisoners (2013)

A Masterclass in Everything

[10/10 · 22 March 2020]

Prisoners (2013) - [10/10]

What a beautiful film. Prisoners (2013) is one of the greatest thriller/mystery films ever made - at least that I've seen - and it is great for many reasons. One of the reasons is the writing. Every story piece is so intricate, so complex - exactly like a maze. Aaron Guzikowski did such an amazing job, taking a familiar concept (child abduction) and taking all the stigmas, stereotypes, etc. surrounding this topic and flipping them on their heads. He wrote with such realism, crafting such tense, empathetic, and surreal moments. I found myself sympathizing with each character; caring about each and everyone of them deeply. I cried with the characters. I felt their anger. I felt everything. The audience was a part of the story. Every random piece of "arbitrary" story truly wasn't random. Simplistic resolutions and small little details mattered in this film. As the film progressed, I thought I had the story figured out - I thought I did - but I was so wrong. With each scene and sequence there were so many twists and surprises; each a turn inside of the maze that is Prisoners (2013). Denis Villeneuve is going to go down as one of the greats. His direction allowed this complex story to be told in a very unique way. I haven't seen much of his work, aside form Arrival (2016), but because of this film I have deep respect for him. Each scene was extremely tense, and it started from the very beginning of the film. Immediately you knew something was wrong even though nothing was explicitly stated. There's so many techniques to learn from Villeneuve's knowledge on building tension, mood, tone, and atmosphere. It felt like I was holding my breath from the opening words that appeared on screen, Prisoners, and wasn't allowed a second to breathe until the abrupt cut to black and the closing credits. (The ending is perfect by. It is probably one of my favorite endings ever.) There is so much symbolism in this film. From snakes, to mazes, to being a prisoner. A prisoner of someone else's, a prisoner in jail, or becoming a prisoner of one's own creation. I cannot wait to analyze more of this film and truly understand Prisoners (2013). Now onto the performances. What can I say about these actors. Jake Gyllenhaal, Hugh Jackman, Paul Dano, Viola Davis, Melissa Leo, Maria Bello, Terrance Howard - everyone was so real. Gyllenhaal and Jackman give their best performances I have ever seen. They became their characters. You could sympathize with Jackman's character, Keller Dover, and understand everything he was going through and at the same time you as if became Gyllenhaal's partner - the audience was the lone-wolf Detective Loki's partner throughout the inverstigation. Gyllenhaal is a spectacular actor and this is my favorite performance by him. Each small detail about his character, from his tattoos, to his mason ring, or to the simple looks he gives - is perfect from the moment he is introduced in the story. The chemistry that is created when Gyllenhaal and Jackman are together is unnerving. Jackman's rage and emotion contrast Gyllenhaal's independence and seriousness. Jackman gave the best performance I have seen from him as well. All of these characters are people that could really exist. They're extremely realistic and it works. Another standout is Paul Dano and David Dastmalchian. I can't say much about their characters because it would spoil some of the film, but they are haunting. Paul Dano is a really underrated actor and he shines in this. You can see everything about his character just from his eyes. His eyes tell you so much about himself and the story. I cannot stress this enough - his eyes. To be able to do that takes so much skill and dedication. Paul Dano really commits in this film and is the perfect person to be in between Gyllenhaal and Jackman. Dastmalchian utilizes similar skills that Dano uses. I really can't speak about his performance too much, but it is equal to the caliber of the other actors. One last actor I'll talk about is Melissa Leo. She frightened me so much in this film. I'd compare her performance to Anthony Perkins in Psycho (1960). Once again, I really can't say much about her either, but her eeriness is enough to make you want to look away from the screen. The casting in this film was perfect. Not a single actor doesn't put in their all for the film. Jackman and Gyllenhaal really operated at another level. To truly understand what I'm talking about you need to see Prisoners (2013). Roger A. Deakins. What a legend. Every film he captures is beautiful and Prisoners (2013) is no different. Every scene was art. Every scene had some sort of symbolic subtext. He is able to capture emotion in the small things. From pill bottles, to trees, to candles. So beautiful. A lot of the sequences happen in really dark colored settings and to be able to capture beauty in that is crazy. In one scene in particular, we see rain turn to snow and the way he chose to film it is beautiful. I can't figure out another way to describe it other than beautiful. I think this may be my favorite film he's been Director of Photography on. How he didn't win best cinematography at the 84th Academy Awards amazes me. (I really have a lot more to say about this film - but I'll shorten it down.) The editing was to the point and really satisfying. The sound design was layered and actually very quiet. This film is a slow burn and utilizes silence differently than most films, so when loud moments happen they are meaningful. The score by Jóhan Jóhannsson captures what Prisoners (2013) is. I really love it, so I was very sad to find out he passed away in 2018. I think he could have became one of the greatest composers in film history, much of that greatness seen with his work on this film. Each chord oozes emotion onscreen. The lighting is beautiful. For the most part they relied on natural light - which I prefer in film, and it works. A lot of the scenes are in darkness so when we see light, it adds a lot of meaning and value to the film - it has a purpose. Prisoners (2013) was snubbed on so many levels. I believe it is a masterpiece, but it hasn't been recognized as such. It is criminally underrated. The writing is so effective. The characters are so complex yet so relatable. The symbolism throughout is breathtaking. The direction is masterful. The performances, equally masterful. Most importantly of all, to understand Prisoners (2013) completely it would require a second or third watch. In my opinion that is a sign of the greatness in a film. To watch it multiple times and still take away new ideas from it means the film is a masterpiece. It is a masterclass in suspense, atmosphere, cinematography, acting, symbolism, editing, everything. It is heartbreaking, horrific, and familiar - I loved it. Once you start watching this film, Villeneuve and Guzikowski will trap you in the maze that is Prisoners (2013) until the very end of the film when it all makes sense, and you know which path is the correct way to the exit.

Mindhunter (2017– )

My mind has been hunted...

[10/10 · 20 March 2020]

Mindhunter (2017 - ) - [10/10]

What a fantastic show. From the very first episode, it seizes control of the audience. (There's so much I have to talk about, but so little space to talk about it - so forgive me for the length of this review and recommendation - also the lack of acknowledgement on some of this show's "perfectness.") Let me start with where it all began: John Douglas, Robert Ressler, and Mark Olshaker's work. Douglas and Ressler are the men behind what this show is actually based off of. They spent years compiling research on some of the most notorious serial killers, coining the term "profiling" (and serial killers), as well as establishing the Behavioral Analysis Unit in the FBI. Their work, with the assistance of author, Mark Olshaker, intrigued David Fincher and Joe Penhall to make this show, as well as many others (influencing The Silence of the Lambs, Hannibal, Criminal Minds, etc). So, Fincher and Penhall set out to do just that: make a television show interviewing real life serial killers and analyzing the psychology and sociology of why they do the things they do, while also depicting Douglas and Ressler's work in the form of fictional characters. This show is the smartest television show on air today. Every episode is meticulously crafted, be it from all the research they have at their disposal, Fincher's masterful direction and production, or the beautiful writing. If Mindhunter (2017 - ) were a clock, all of these perfect things form the cogs that make it able to tick and tell time. Without one of these things, the show would not work. That being said, let's continue with David Fincher. I love his work, so I wasn't surprised when I loved this show as well. It is as much David Fincher as David Fincher gets. Each episode reflects his own techniques, styles, and visions; which is perfect. He was the man to helm the television adaptation of these stories. Even if an episode wasn't directed by him, it would still work. Some of my favorite episodes so far were actually directed by Andrew Douglas, Carl Franklin, or Andrew Dominik. But, that being said, every episode Fincher directed was spectacular; simply because he is able to create such tension in the small things which for a show that is incredibly tense, it works. The writing is the next cog that makes up this show. It's quite the achievement. It's hard to describe how good it truly is. Joe Penhall created the show, and boy am I glad he did. Penhall also penned the screenplay for The Road (2009), adapting Cormac McCarthy's novel, so he is no stranger to adaptation. He adapted the writings of Douglas and Olshaker's found in their novel. Many of the situations in the show actually happened so, many of the interviews with the serial killers are pulled directly word for word from Douglas and Kessler's interviews. It is haunting. The dialogue, story, everything. It is written with such care and realism that it strikes deep into the audience's soul. The only small issue I had with the writing was in Mindhunter: Season 2 (2019), they tried to add drama in areas that didn't necessarily need to be dramatic - it felt a little forced. Masterful writing, helmed with masterful direction is one thing, but the acting is just another cog in the clock. Each performance is given with heart and soul. Jonathon Groff, Holt McCallany, Anna Torv, Cameron Britton, Stacy Roca, and Hannah Gross work at another level not really seen in the television field of work. All of these actors are pretty unheard of, but all of them become their characters to a haunting extent. Particularly Cameron Britton's depiction of the serial killer, Edmund Kemper - beautifully frightening. It felt like every word he said, struck a chord until by the end of his scene, he was playing this frightening score. There are some really powerful performances from all of the cast, and it just goes to show how dedicated everyone involved with this show is. This dedication is reflected in the effectiveness of Mindhunter (2017 - ). The cinematography is (I know I'm going to be repeating myself again, but...) perfect. Never have I seen cinema quality shots in a television series. Cinema quality shots that encapsulate every shot. If I hadn't known better I would have thought someone like Roger Deakins had filmed this show. It is on another level. Mindhunter (2017 - ) is one of those shows that is pushing the television medium towards "film-like" quality if not better (because of the length they have to tell these incredible stories). The cinematography is so very beautiful - big props to Erik Messerschmidt and Christopher Probst. The reason it is beautiful is because it is simple. Simple to the point where the small things in frame are "big". The last few things I'm going to touch on are the editing and the score. This isn't to say that there aren't more cogs that build up the show, but if I were to go on about production design, VFX, locations, etc. this recommendation would be that much longer. The editing is the time that is read on the face of the clock. The pacing, impactful moments, and feel of Mindhunter (2017 - ) is determined by the editors. Truly phenomenal work is being done by Kirk Baxter, Tyler Nelson, Bryon Smith, Grant Surmi, and Eric Zumbrunnen. I didn't catch one edit that wasn't satisfying. Each edit was purposeful, as it should be. Now onto the ticking of this clock. The ticking is almost entirely determined by the soundtrack. Composer Jason Hill perfectly captures the eeriness of the show through the music. The opening title sequence of Mindhunter (2017 - ), backed with the score, really places the audience into this world. The selection of other music tracks really works in bringing mood, tone, and feeling at particular moments. Everything about Mindhunter (2017 - ) is a masterclass. Mindhunter (2017 - ) is a clock that will stand the tests of time, it's an effective crime-drama-thriller that any filmmaker can learn from (as well as anyone looking into the psychology field), and a show that will leave everyone begging for the runtime of each episode to be longer and longer.