The Irishman.
The Nursing Home.
Scorcese, ever the director of kinetic energy, after a 3+ hour movie depicting mob men and their consequences, can’t resist bringing some of that that jazz to the old folks home for one last go. It’s an inspired but odd choice, for Scorcese to slowly pan down the hall, flashing forwards, before whipping it back to the same place again, indicating that (even more) time has passed. It’s one of the more anti climatic cuts you’ll see that is exciting, but more prone to sadness than thrills.
Parasite. The long and rainy walk home.
After an epically tense sequence of trying to not be discovered as squatters and to get out of the family’s home without being their identities being discovered, the resourceful Kim family are able to escape and begin their trudge home. As they travel through the city, they go across and down, resembling a downward descent into if not hell, then at least a flooded sewer. Joon-ho’s framing, of the family inching their way downwards, shows the talented film maker’s eye for composition and energy, and demonstrates more metaphor for the part social satire film’s views on class. It all culminates in one of the most memorable images of the year, as there’s no place like home- except the pool.
Scorcese, ever the director of kinetic energy, after a 3+ hour movie depicting mob men and their consequences, can’t resist bringing some of that that jazz to the old folks home for one last go. It’s an inspired but odd choice, for Scorcese to slowly pan down the hall, flashing forwards, before whipping it back to the same place again, indicating that (even more) time has passed. It’s one of the more anti climatic cuts you’ll see that is exciting, but more prone to sadness than thrills.
Parasite. The long and rainy walk home.
After an epically tense sequence of trying to not be discovered as squatters and to get out of the family’s home without being their identities being discovered, the resourceful Kim family are able to escape and begin their trudge home. As they travel through the city, they go across and down, resembling a downward descent into if not hell, then at least a flooded sewer. Joon-ho’s framing, of the family inching their way downwards, shows the talented film maker’s eye for composition and energy, and demonstrates more metaphor for the part social satire film’s views on class. It all culminates in one of the most memorable images of the year, as there’s no place like home- except the pool.
Little Women. The 2 sisters on the
beach.
Despite a lot of buzz from her success in past projects as a writer, actor, and director, Greta Gerwig’s take on the VERY familiar 19th century novel by Louisa May Alcott didn’t invite a lot of hype in terms of bringing something new to the text. But that changed when I was entranced at the beach scene of Jo (Saoirse Ronan) and Beth (Eliza Scanlen) talking about whether or not one of them would let a loved one die from their disease. Gerwig’s direction, of framing the fiery with resoluteness Jo, and the young and brave Beth, with their environment, combined with Alexandre Desplat’s delicate score, create a sequence of delicate motion that never stops to mourn, fret, or sulk. The result is magic, closer to something from The English Patient than Sense and Sensibility. Magic.
Portrait of a Lady on Fire. The Introduction.
In Céline Sciamma’s scorching romance, portrait painter Marianne (played by the sturdy Noémie Merlant) needs to paint stubborn Héloïse (intoxicatingly played by Adèle Haenel)’s portrait. Not only does Héloïse not want to pose, but in their first encounter, they meet outdoors, and Héloïse sprints for the edge of a cliff. Fearing Héloïse will copy her now deceased sister’s suicide, Marianne takes off after her in pursuit, before she’s even able to see Héloïse’s face. The conclusion is one of the more breathtaking, blink and you’ll miss it, introductions in film that I’ve ever seen.
Bonus Scenes- pretty much the whole film.
Despite a lot of buzz from her success in past projects as a writer, actor, and director, Greta Gerwig’s take on the VERY familiar 19th century novel by Louisa May Alcott didn’t invite a lot of hype in terms of bringing something new to the text. But that changed when I was entranced at the beach scene of Jo (Saoirse Ronan) and Beth (Eliza Scanlen) talking about whether or not one of them would let a loved one die from their disease. Gerwig’s direction, of framing the fiery with resoluteness Jo, and the young and brave Beth, with their environment, combined with Alexandre Desplat’s delicate score, create a sequence of delicate motion that never stops to mourn, fret, or sulk. The result is magic, closer to something from The English Patient than Sense and Sensibility. Magic.
Portrait of a Lady on Fire. The Introduction.
In Céline Sciamma’s scorching romance, portrait painter Marianne (played by the sturdy Noémie Merlant) needs to paint stubborn Héloïse (intoxicatingly played by Adèle Haenel)’s portrait. Not only does Héloïse not want to pose, but in their first encounter, they meet outdoors, and Héloïse sprints for the edge of a cliff. Fearing Héloïse will copy her now deceased sister’s suicide, Marianne takes off after her in pursuit, before she’s even able to see Héloïse’s face. The conclusion is one of the more breathtaking, blink and you’ll miss it, introductions in film that I’ve ever seen.
Bonus Scenes- pretty much the whole film.
High Life. The Fuck Box.
Claire Denis’ first English feature had one particularly unforgettable character- that of the Fuck Box, a hybrid box/device of pleasure placed on the doomed and modestly budgeted spaceship of criminals (lead by Robert Pattinson) set adrift in space. Constructed for you know what, built by god knows who, and possessing the same kind of sounds and body horror ejections as a machine from David Cronenberg’s Naked Lunch, it lets the Juliette Binoche pseudo witch character let her freak flag fly, before the conclusively guttural gurgle slop drains into the hallway- now if only in space you could have a cigarette.
Claire Denis’ first English feature had one particularly unforgettable character- that of the Fuck Box, a hybrid box/device of pleasure placed on the doomed and modestly budgeted spaceship of criminals (lead by Robert Pattinson) set adrift in space. Constructed for you know what, built by god knows who, and possessing the same kind of sounds and body horror ejections as a machine from David Cronenberg’s Naked Lunch, it lets the Juliette Binoche pseudo witch character let her freak flag fly, before the conclusively guttural gurgle slop drains into the hallway- now if only in space you could have a cigarette.
Terminator:
Dark Fate. Carl.
This year’s latest iteration of the moribund Terminator franchise featured nothing worth mentioning- save for Arnold Schwarzenegger’s appearance (yet again) as the iconic T-800 cyborg from the future. Yes, that means we get to watch more footage of the septuagenarian unloading rounds of ammo into yet another unstoppable CGI creature, but what stands out is what he does that’s new for an icon not known for his acting range. His character, the robotic assassin, having accomplished its sole mission in the beginning of the movie, goes into standard infiltration mode. That is, infiltration of a family, functioning as a safe and supportive husband and doting dad, and of society, working at a job that you probably wouldn’t have guessed. His take on the idea of possessing a conscience (not to mention hospitality), of giving to something larger than yourself, is inspired and even inching towards something resembling pathos. Channeling something more akin to Maggie (with dad jokes and comments about appropriate drapery), rather than The Expendables 3, if there’s (mercifully!) never another Terminator movie, at least this is a performance that hints at the potential of memorably fading into the sunset, rather than groaning into the green screen abyss of death.
This year’s latest iteration of the moribund Terminator franchise featured nothing worth mentioning- save for Arnold Schwarzenegger’s appearance (yet again) as the iconic T-800 cyborg from the future. Yes, that means we get to watch more footage of the septuagenarian unloading rounds of ammo into yet another unstoppable CGI creature, but what stands out is what he does that’s new for an icon not known for his acting range. His character, the robotic assassin, having accomplished its sole mission in the beginning of the movie, goes into standard infiltration mode. That is, infiltration of a family, functioning as a safe and supportive husband and doting dad, and of society, working at a job that you probably wouldn’t have guessed. His take on the idea of possessing a conscience (not to mention hospitality), of giving to something larger than yourself, is inspired and even inching towards something resembling pathos. Channeling something more akin to Maggie (with dad jokes and comments about appropriate drapery), rather than The Expendables 3, if there’s (mercifully!) never another Terminator movie, at least this is a performance that hints at the potential of memorably fading into the sunset, rather than groaning into the green screen abyss of death.
Under the Silver Lake. The Music Man.
In a movie drowning in symbols, codes, messages, and pointless nudity, Andrew Garfield’s deadbeat detective struggles to make sense of it all, whether it’s his aimless life or finding a fetching neighbor who suddenly goes missing. He finally gets to have his Neo meeting the Architect in The Matrix Reloaded moment, meeting the man (hilariously played by Jeremy Bobb) who wrote perhaps ALL of the pop culture songs in society’s history, suggesting that there are meanings behind them that subliminally controlled our actions. His arrogant glee at revealing a fraction of his secrets, contrasted with Garfield’s baffled stupor, is one of the funniest scenes of the year- but mind the over the top violent conclusion that’s perfectly in synch with David Robert Mitchell’s delightfully original and chauvinistic comedy-noir.
Marriage Story. The Argument.
For a movie about a couple separating and going to court for a custody battle, it’s a fairly civil affair. That is, until Adam Driver’s ex-husband and Scarlett Johannsen’s ex-wife get together and decide to let each other know what they really think of each other- about what they’ve holding onto all these years. After getting to know the couple, it’s an emotionally charged trainwreck that you want to look away from, while knowing that you can’t, grounded in reality, and captured in perpetuity. A doozy.
Bonus scene- The supervised visit sequence.
Avengers: Endgame. Mjolnir’s friends’ list expands.
As a studio tentpole blockbuster franchise entry, Endgame is already notable in how well it wraps up the twentysomething movies that came before it, but in the film’s moving and epic finale, we see a new wrinkle to a character’s arsenal that is so effective that it has been known to induce applause in theatres. If Endgame is the last moviegoing mass cultural experience before the death of movie theatres as we know them, this scene encapsulates a worthy choice that will make your soul sing as a character, exclaims, “I knew it!”.
In a movie drowning in symbols, codes, messages, and pointless nudity, Andrew Garfield’s deadbeat detective struggles to make sense of it all, whether it’s his aimless life or finding a fetching neighbor who suddenly goes missing. He finally gets to have his Neo meeting the Architect in The Matrix Reloaded moment, meeting the man (hilariously played by Jeremy Bobb) who wrote perhaps ALL of the pop culture songs in society’s history, suggesting that there are meanings behind them that subliminally controlled our actions. His arrogant glee at revealing a fraction of his secrets, contrasted with Garfield’s baffled stupor, is one of the funniest scenes of the year- but mind the over the top violent conclusion that’s perfectly in synch with David Robert Mitchell’s delightfully original and chauvinistic comedy-noir.
Marriage Story. The Argument.
For a movie about a couple separating and going to court for a custody battle, it’s a fairly civil affair. That is, until Adam Driver’s ex-husband and Scarlett Johannsen’s ex-wife get together and decide to let each other know what they really think of each other- about what they’ve holding onto all these years. After getting to know the couple, it’s an emotionally charged trainwreck that you want to look away from, while knowing that you can’t, grounded in reality, and captured in perpetuity. A doozy.
Bonus scene- The supervised visit sequence.
Avengers: Endgame. Mjolnir’s friends’ list expands.
As a studio tentpole blockbuster franchise entry, Endgame is already notable in how well it wraps up the twentysomething movies that came before it, but in the film’s moving and epic finale, we see a new wrinkle to a character’s arsenal that is so effective that it has been known to induce applause in theatres. If Endgame is the last moviegoing mass cultural experience before the death of movie theatres as we know them, this scene encapsulates a worthy choice that will make your soul sing as a character, exclaims, “I knew it!”.
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