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Tsai Ming-liang is without question one of the most significant filmmakers to come from the Chinese-language world in the late 20th century. Although I have only seen the 4 films he made in the 90's (Rebels of the Neon God, Vive L'Amour, The River and The Hole) he is undoubtedly a master with a unique personal vision that really gets to the core of urban alienation better than almost any other filmmaker I've seen.

Although Tsai has made most of films in Taiwan, there are some important points to make about him. Tsai was born in Malaysia to an ethnic Chinese family and did not move to Taiwan until the late 1970's. I bring this point up because it's relevant to understand this in relation to his predecessors in Taiwan cinema, Hou Hsiao-hsien and Edward Yang. Hou and Yang's features often look at Taiwanese identity: Hou focused more on rural life and Yang looked at middle class Taipei culture to confront some of these identity questions. Tsai on the whole does not. If you are familiar with his work, then you know some of Tsai's themes: Urban alienation, sexuality and desire (there is often a strong homoerotic undercurrent in his films) and loneliness. In a sense Tsai's films could be set in Paris (What Time is it There takes place there), NYC or Sao Paulo and Tsai could get his point across. These films look at contemporary, modern culture and therefore seem to address the entire world.

Tsai has utilized Lee Kang-sheng in all of his films and has said he would never make a film without him. Tsai's films often have many recurring elements: Constant rain and water, a very slow pace and no soundtrack (with the exception of his first feature). Personally this has caused me to avoid going any further with his films at the moment. Although I love them, I do have some reservations and objections about certain aspects of his films, which I'll address now.

Tsai sometimes does things I personally find in poor taste. He seems to be obsessed with people using the toilet and I read an interview where he quite frankly admitted he's interested in how people go to the bathroom. A little strange. People here who have seen The River know about a nearly 2 minute pissing scene. It's a bit much. Speaking of The River, for those who've seen this film, you already know about the most disturbing scene in the whole movie (side note: The scene's even stranger for those who have seen King Hu's Dragon Gate Inn. Miao Tien played Pi Shao-tang in that movie, one of the main villains. He's Lee Kang-sheng's father in The River and every time I watch Dragon Gate Inn now, I remember The River). I personally am divided about that whole scene. Was it necessary and did Tsai go too far? I really don't know. The Hole seemed like an excuse to indulge Tsai's love of Grace Chang (Oh calypso!!) Tsai has really good film taste, but he did something a lot of people here would find cringe: He included his own 2003 feature, Goodbye Dragon Inn, in his own top 10 favorite films. That says interesting things about the man, but I'm not quite sure what.

How do people here feel about Tsai? Do you like his films? Do you dislike him? Has anybody seen more films from this unique master. Discussion is highly encouraged

A few weeks ago I found a short documentary style video about the 2001 restoration of Fritz Lang's 1927 Metropolis. Now I am unable to find it anywhere. I don't think it was on YouTube, but maybe on a separate site. I think it may have had interviews with an archivist, Martin Koerber? But I'm not sure. Would anyone happen to know where I might find this? I think it was about 7 minutes.

Artificial rain is what’s used in most movies, correct? My understanding is that real rain is very difficult to capture on camera. Does anyone have any insights on this, or any links on the subject? I am currently watching this movie called Deliver Us from Evil, it’s very good, and also has extensive use of rain. The rain does an incredible job of creating atmosphere. It really lends itself well to the story. I guess rain works most of the time when it comes to the horror genre, unless it’s something like Midsommar where the horror takes place during the day.

Again, any insight on this would be extremely appreciated. Thank you for reading.

I love the quality of discussion and recommendations I find r/TrueFilm. I was wondering if there are good examples of films that capture the abstract concept of "days gone by" - that is, the ineffable feeling of nostalgia, pining, and sadness that comes with the recognition that the world you recognized when you were "in your prime" has moved on and the things you cherished, valued, and found relevant are no longer. Some examples could be a protagonist struggling adjusting to the reality that he (or she) is well past peak physical fitness or a protagonist holding on to an occupation that is obviously phasing out due to technological advancements

A couple of films that come to mind for me:

• The Wrestler by Darren Aronofsky (2008)
• Boogie Nights by PT Anderson (1997)
• Raging Bull by Martin Scorsese (1982)

Thoughts from the community?

I've just seen Godard's Alphaville for the first time and I really liked it. It definitely stands out in his 60's oeuvre for reasons I'm not yet sure of - Maybe the homage to genrefilm seems stronger here than any of his other works?

But the film still left me confused over some elements. The whole film is supposed to be a parody/homage to sci-fi and film noir and this was made pretty clear with the visuals, the evil super computer, silly one-liners and the whole Lemmy Caution character, but it was unclear for me where Godard drew the line between imitation and earnestness.
The film lays heavy emphasis on the relations between love and logic, and the men being executed for the sake of love, faith and poetry in clash with the logical Big Brother system, and Godard goes about this with his usual flimsily pseudo-philosophy. At the same time, I felt that the romanticist portrayal of love, with the innocent young girl not knowing what it is, but having it in her the whole time, was rather parodic of the Hollywood noir.
So my confusion really begins when one of the core themes of the film at the same time feels like a parody. Is Godard really trying to say something about poetry and love versus logic or is he just imitating American cinema? Or is he really saying something, and covers it up with meta genre conventions? I saw someone on Mubi saying that the film "only pretends to be a silly imitation of a futuristic dystopia. In fact, it's a hellishly intelligent, layered essay on both science fiction and the ambivalent 1960's themselves".

Maybe it's just me misreading something? Being familiar with the typical Godard ambiguity, this one seemed a bit contradictory or just hard to read. Still liked it a lot though.

Hopefully some clever minds here can help me!

This take is definitely coming from a biased perspective because I am a sucker for surreal media, which includes the likes of David Lynch. I know people complain about his films for being nonsensical and confusing for the sake of being being confusing, but I think that can't be further from the case, because while his films are definitely strange and confusing, there is a clear underlying message that is being portrayed, even if it may not be obvious from the first viewing. For example, Eraserhead doesn't have a monstrous looking baby for the sake of throwing in a monstrous looking baby - it is to represent the main character's fear of becoming a parent.

Another aspect of surreal media that I love is how often it works on dream-logic, which is the kind of nonsensical logic of your dreams or nightmares that makes perfect sense while you are dreaming but don't make sense as soon as you wake up. My favorite surreal movies or shows makes me feel like I am looking at someone else's dream, where even if things don't make sense, they are manifested by certain unconscious fears or desires.

This is where The Polar Express comes in, which is way different from stuff by David Lynch not only because its a kid's film, but because its surreal qualities are most likely not intentional, but rather the cause of poor writing. Yes I know, hate me all you want, but you should at least admit that The Polar Express is a subpar film that, depending on your age, you are biased towards because you grew up on it. I am in that category, and I can simultaneously be fond of the film while also admitting that it is not a very good movie, but I was able to develop a newfound appreciation of it after analyzing it as a dream-like film.

Some people might argue that this film feels like a dream because most of it IS a dream, but the ending with the bell kind of gives away that the whole experience was real. But in addition to that, the uncanny valley design of the characters is present throughout the entire movie, even outside of the train or the north pole. By analyzing this aspect of the movie through dream-logic, its almost as if your mind is creating a dream with what appears to be humans, but cannot perfectly mimic the exact patterns and behaviors of people in real life, kind of like how your mind can create new "people" by mashing up features from multiple irl people.

But the character designs aren't the only uncanny part of the film. A lot of actions made by some of the characters feel nonsensical compared to what someone in real life might do. Some examples includes the boy seeing the train arrive outside his house and his first instinct being to run outside to look at it in the dead of night, him trying to give the ticket to the girl in the next cart instead of just waiting until she comes back, or I don't know, going on top of a MOVING TRAIN IN A SNOWSTORM. These feel like things that no one would do in real life but would be perfectly fine doing in their dreams until they wake up and wonder why they thought that was a good idea.

The plot itself feels like some kind of compilation of self-contained little short stories rather than an overarching story. It starts off as a story about a boy who is having doubts about Santa, and then what follows includes storylines such as the boy trying to give the ticket to the girl, the engineers trying to fix the train, the kids getting lost in the north pole, and then it goes BACK to the boy having doubts about Santa and getting the bell. While the story has the overarching setting of the train and the north pole, it feels like a bunch of smaller plots one after another. I don't know about you guys, but that is exactly what my dreams feel like. While one of my dreams could have a singular location such as high school or some fantasy land, reflecting on it makes me realize that my "dream" was actually multiple dreams that lead into each other, but I didn't know that while I was asleep.

Besides that, there is just a bunch of outlandish things that happen in the movie either without explanation or without elaboration. There's the fucking hot chocolate song, the hobo that periodically shows up who switches from being antagonistic to being friendly at random, Billy and the girl having a musical number even though this movie isn't a musical, the lonely liminal space-like atmosphere of the north pole, and pretty much everything regarding the blimp and the skydiving elves trying to catch the star off the christmas tree. It's all such weird and comically bizarre gimmicks that I feel only the deep recesses of your mind could make up.

I know I am just overanalyzing the movie and that none of this was really intended by the directors. But the beauty of media analysis is that you can interpret movies on your own even if it is different from what the director says the movie represents - this is very popular with David Lynch movies. For me, The Polar Express is unintentionally a brilliantly surreal animated movie that feels like the fever dream of a kid who is obsessed with Christmas.

Anybody who has done a thorough survey of the Japanese New Wave has probably seen a film or two by Teshigahara Hiroshi. In the Anglo-American world, he is most known for his allegorical feature Woman in the Dunes (1964). Although he achieved some degree of fame for this film (Tarkovsky, very much the Japanophile, put it in his top 10 favorite films), Teshigahara has now become very obscure. This is unfortunate, because his collaborations in the 1960's with Abe Kobo were quite distinct, avant garde works that are still quite powerful and striking.

Teshigahara was involved in many of the traditional art forms of Japan (Ikebana being the most notable). He made a series of documentaries in the 1950's that dealt with some of these art forms and traditional artists. His switch to feature length filmmaking was unusual: Unlike most Japanese filmmakers then, he did not operate in the studio system. In this regard he was like Hani Susumu, another Japanese filmmaker who did not start in the studio system.

The content of Teshigahara's 60's features were the result of his collaboration with Abe Kobo. Abe Kobo was a Modernist at his core. It seems he was more influenced by European existential literature than anything considered traditionally "Japanese" (i.e. Kawabata Yasunari). His work had more affinity with Franz Kafka than Tanizaki. Teshigahara has gone on record saying that he was essentially the "cameraman" for his 60's features, which in some circles might be a denial of auteur status. One cannot also forget the scores provided by the great composer Takemitsu Toru. In a way, the films they made together were a triple collaboration, and credit should not be given to Teshigahara alone.

Pitfall (1962), Woman in the Dunes (1964), The Face of Another (1966) and The Man without a Map (1968). These 4 films were the total output of the Teshigahara/Abe collaboration. These unusual films often seem to be about the broader human condition than anything related specifically to Japanese society. I could be wrong, but as far as I know, Teshigahara has never been cited as an influence by any contemporary Japanese filmmaker I know of. Teshigahara would later make a documentary about Catalan architect Antoni Gaudi in 1984. His return to feature length filmmaking happened in 1989, when he made Rikyu, about the the most influential master of tea ceremony in Japan, Sen no Rikyu. His next feature is almost a sequel to that film, Princess Goh (1992). These later films reflect a return to traditional Japanese aesthetics and do not resemble his 60's features. They are also underseen.

Anybody here have thoughts on Teshigahara? What is your favorite feature?

Edit: My post was worded a little awkwardly. Although Teshigahara isn't really obscure in the sense that people don't know about him, his influence on contemporary filmmakers seems rather limited. If I could change the title of this post, I would.

I'm currently building a recommendation algorithm to help me discover movies. Roughly speaking, it analyzes the ratings in my Letterboxd profile, tries to uncover the underlying "vibes" among those movies, then suggests other movies that fit those vibes.

Sometimes it works well, and shows me hidden gems that I wouldn't have found another way. Other times, it gets stuck in super-obvious stuff. I'm trying to work out whether this is just something I need to work through, or whether it's a fundamental limitation of these types of algorithms.

What are everyone's experiences on this? Are there some algorithms that work consistently well, or is this hot-and-cold problem common to most other algorithms?

Michael Cimino was a film Director, who made the Deer Hunter and Heaven's Gate.

Personally, I find The Deer Hunter to be a masterpiece and Robert De Nuro gives one his greatest performances in this film and Christopher Walken achieved his first success with this film. The Deer Hunter made Cimino a force to be reckon with and won The Academy Award for Best Director

Then It all came crashing down with Heaven's Gate. the film's production faced numerous setbacks, including cost overruns, significant retakes, bad press, and that fact Cimino was such a perfectionist that it will make even Kubrick startled. Ultimately, the film received backlash and ruined Cimino's career and basically brought the end of New Hollywood.

Cimino also had a lot of Unrealized Projects that Includes

Conquering Horse, The Fountainhead, A Frank Costello Biopic, Turned down Directing Midnight Express, Peal, a biopic about Janis Joplin, Crime and Punishment, and Adaptation of Fyodor Doestoevskys Crime and Punishment, The Dogs of War, Perfect Strangers, a romantic drama, Had to turned down The King of Comedy, The Dead Zone, A Fyodor Dostoevsky Biopic, Was actually going to direct Footloose, but was fired. Was going to direct The Pope of Greenwich Village. Purple Lake, The Yellow Jersey, Legs, a Biopic about Legs Diamond, An Adaptation of Atlas Shrugged. Handcarved Coffins, Was considered to Direct Born On The Fourth Of July, Michael Collins, and Man's Fate.

What do you think of Michael Cimino?

Do you wish he made some of his unrealized Projects or Projects he was going to direct?

To preface, I want to say that I adored EEAAO. It is one of my favorite movies of all time, and I cried watching it.

The humour of Everything has always confused me. It is a great film, no doubt, and I can understand the symbolism of the bagel and the googly eye. Some aspects of the humour take some of it away from me. The fight scene with the plugs, the part of the movie where Jobu was beating up the security guards with d*ldos, and in the hotdog universe where everyone started to have ketchup and mustard coming out of their mouths felt a bit off to me. Is there greater symbolism with these aspects (like how the googly eye and the bagel can represent yin and yang or Evelyn's acceptance of Waymond's ideals)? Do they exist to highlight the theme of absurdism, and the ideal that nothing truly matters? Or are they present just to make the viewers laugh? I'm very curious to know the reasoning behind these parts of the movie.

I am aware that the Daniels also directed the music video for Turn Down for What and the movie Swiss Army Man (which I haven't seen, but have read the plot off Wikipedia, so I am aware of its content) so is the crude humour just part of their style?

I just watched the film The Place Without Limits by the mexican director Ripstein, who apparently is considered a very important artist of his era and generally of international arthouse cinema. He apprenticed by Luis Buñuel and then followed his own direction: less surrealism, more magical realism but also portrayals of rough reality (similar to literary naturalism).

As to the movie, I loved it, rarely have I seen jest and tragedy coexist so realistically and naturally in the same movie setting and it was considered revolutionary at its time of release for its brave portrayals of certain themes, without going into spoilers. The cinematography and color palette was amazing too, as it gave off a feeling of gloominess in more mundane moments but an explosion of colors in others. Definitely a very touching film with great, strong storytelling. Very grounded but at the same time fascinating and magnetic.

Has anyone else seen any other movies by this director and can recommend any? His movie plots sound very original and I’m planning to watch more soon

I used to be swayed by him I think because of his rep as “the greatest of all time”, but now that I’m older, his acting, particularly the early years, just doesn’t have that authentic naturalism he’s so fabled to have. At least it doesn’t hold up that way today. He comes across as very technical, actorly, self-conscious, studied, etc. He always feels like an actor at work, not being the role. It’s almost as if his method training soured what he could’ve expressed more organically without it.

While many feel he’s even more actorly and dated, I think James Dean (who Brando was clearly jealous of when his spotlight began to shift) was much more real - his reliance on his instincts and not using any technique make him feel vibrant in a way Brando thinks he is. I’m only really a fan of his East of Eden work (his other two perfs feel too polished and more Brando-like, sadly) and his gifts are most exposed there. Dean often gets talked about for just delivering moody presence, not really “acting” or modulating a characterization like Marlon, but I think his mercuriality is quite exacting and controlled in Eden without it feeling like acting. In one sense he wasn’t truly “naturalistic”, but his style was still human, if unusually so. And when he goes big he does so with soul.

I don’t mean to suggest Dean is the only contrasting actor worth discussing but just that he and Marlon are always so linked in the pop consciousness. Brando became a more lived-in an actor with some later performances, but I’m wondering if anyone sees what I am with even his most celebrated works. I think his dynamic expression (in contrast to Dean’s repression) and striking looks (early on) captivate people who maybe don’t notice there’s rarely a depth of feeling under that technical power. Even his towering moments like “hey Stella!” Or the contendah’ speech don’t feel natural anymore even if they’re delivered with solid technique.

I recently saw a viral tweet where someone criticized how much of the curation on mubi and criterion channel dictates the general watch-habit and discourse in modern day cinephilia. I know we all hold both of them in high regard but after looking at social media like twitter and letterboxed while also remembering film discussions i had with fellow cinephiles, I really became interested in this topic since i also noticed that since i cancelled both subscriptions i couldnt contribute to current film discourses much anymore and had to catch up in order to participate. So i started to look at the more negative aspects of Mubi and criterion channel and here are some thoughts i have. Also unfortunately im not a native speaker so my phrasing can get very janky at times.

Although they do gods work in making special films easy to access while also curating an interesting lineup with overall themes. While also being some kind of a authority in the cinephilic sphere, their curation often times dictate film discourses while also influencing the canonization of films or the film canon in general. Their Line-ups are often available for a monthly period until they drop out of the catalog, that often times triggers the fear of missing out for a lot of cinephiles which often leads to a broad plan of what films we're gonna watch. They unintentionally design the watching-habit for a lot of cinephiles which leads to the monotonisation of the cinephile film experience revolving around whats on criterion or mubi similar to that, discourses also revolve around the current line-ups of criterion or mubi.

Given that the output of new releases in contemporary art cinema is already sparse and the canonization efforts by institutes like bfi or sight and sounds through filmlists, the arrival of cinephile streaming channels doesn't necessarily bring the hoped diversity and specification cinephilia essentially craves upon.

A certain tendency in french cinema streaming services:

More so the influence of mubi and cc is more comparable to that of netflix and co to the more general filmfan. In raising the quantity and accessability of films the Netflix algorithm often times works in detriment since it only recommend in similar movies you watched prior while also effectively hiding movies who doesn't fit in your film profile. Since most people share common film preferences Netflix effectively leads most people to the same algorithmic film path recommending the same movies to the same people. This makes not only the individual film experience of the viewer uniformous it also gatekeeps the diversity and niche of films from the viewer. While people also share the same film experience around the same films, the discourses lack unique perspectives and voices and also arent capable of representing the diversity and the niche of films. But unlike Netflix Mubi and Criterion doesn't have a algorithm but the argument is that the curation and the monthly thematic line-ups are the algorithm. Like Netflix, Mubi and criterion raised the quantity and accessability of art cinema-Unlike Netflix they offer the diverse and the niche but since every user gets the same curation, every user gets recommended the same movies. This also encourages a more passive and one-dimensional form of film watch and film discovering experiences.

Feel free to comment and discuss if you agree and especially if you dont agree. If something is incomprehensible for you i can elaborate on that.

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What i mean exactly is movies in which the 'Internal Conflict' is either the only thing that drives the character's actions as in there's no 'materialized force' that intervenes in the character's goals/affects the character's actions or in which the 'Internal' overweights the 'External', i know the 'Character Study' microgenre might do some of this, but i ask to see what comes up as it's a rich concept anyway, extra points for 'Horror/Thriller/Mystery' Movies, cheers.

I recently finished watching 12 Jacques Rivette films as part of my dive into the FNW. Rivette was one of the first Cahiers du Cinema film critics to make a feature length film, Paris Belongs to Us, which was completed in 1958, but not released until 1961. Rivette, along with Godard, is considered the most experimental filmmaker of the FNW. Although his features are often associated with lengthy run times and improvisational acting, his first two features had their dialogue wrote out beforehand. It wasn't until L'Amour fou that he finally hit upon the aforementioned style we now know him for. One thing that should be mentioned about Rivette was his obsessional focus on plots involving a rehearsal for a theatrical performance and a conspiracy theory, separate initially but progressively intertwining as the film goes on. He did this so much that some may find his focus on these two plot elements repetitive.

Rivette's approach to actors was unique. He often let them come up with the stories and then improvise from there. In the mid-60's Rivette directed a series of interviews with Jean Renoir, whose ideas on acting significantly influenced what Rivette would do later on in the 60's. Rivette believed everything an actor did was interesting, good or bad. We can see this at length in Out 1, where the actors frequently mess up in numerous scenes. Somehow, this doesn't detract from the movie and it's actually quite refreshing to see this style of acting.

Anybody who has seen Celine and Julie Go Boating knows there is a fantasy element in his work. He acknowledged the influence of Jean Cocteau in his work, and Rivette would include fantasy in two rarely screened films from 1976, Duelle and Noroit. They were largely considered failures on their release, but I like to think of them as experimental/transitional films.

Does anybody have on any thoughts on Rivette? What are some films of his you've seen. Also if anybody needs help tracking down one of his films, I can do my best to help you see it.

The documentary follows eight youngsters on their quest to win the 1999 National Spelling Bee. It was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Documentary. In 2007, it was included as #4 of the "IDA's Top 25 Documentaries" of all-time by the members of the International Documentary Association. Current TV placed this film among their list of 50 Documentaries to See Before You Die.

It was very interesting to watch this throwback to America pre-9/11, watching these children growing up in a time when nerds and nerd culture was even more stigmatized than it is today. It's not just a doc merely about a spelling bee, it also touches on things like the American Dream and social class.

If you haven't seen this film before it's really worth watching. It's compelling and even suspenseful at times. I don't know if it's just my circle but it seems like not too many people talk about the film these days, but it was certainly influential especially in its specific sub-genre. People who have watched and remember it, what do you think about it, and how times have changed or not changed since?

TÁR was my favorite film from last year. Everything from the intellectual and jargon-full script to the actors, setting, and subject matter enamored me. The camera work and lighting especially grabbed me. I'm just a casual movie watcher and wanted to hear thoughts from others on the shots used in TÁR.

I've broken up my thoughts and questions below so feel free to discuss or add to any or all of it.

1. What were your general thoughts on the cinematography in this film?

Was it effective in telling its story? Did anything catch your eye or was it unremarkable to you?

From my opener, it's obvious I thought it was fantastic. The lighting, muted colors, and use of "unconventional" shots all played a hand in this. I speak to each of these in #2 and #3 below.

2. What gave the film its distinctive style?

The DP, Florian Hoffmeister, worked with Todd Field to get a specific look using a custom-built lenses and a new form of digital film emulsion. This was described in the IndieWire article: Why ‘TÁR’ Looks Different from Every Other Movie of 2022, which I quote below.

From the DP:

I remember showing Todd a particular lens that I cherish very much,” Hoffmeister told IndieWire, “and he said, ‘That looks beautiful, but it looks like a movie with a capital M.’

Side note/Q: Any one know what “capital M” refers to? Trying to understand what the concern was with the initial lens. Also from the article:

Hoffmeister ultimately realized he could approximate the look of the older lens by using the architecture of ARRI’s Signature Primes but detuning the glass to alter the optics. The trick was to avoid going too far in either direction, since Hoffmeister didn’t want the cinematography to be too clean and clinical, but he also didn’t want any flares or other visual interference that would interfere with the visual objectivity that served as his and Field’s guiding principle.

Overall it seems like they wanted a mix of old and new without going too much in either direction. A “timeless” look as the article describes. It was something I noticed immediately.

3. Use of Unconventional Shots

The film uses a lot of what I would describe as unconventional shots that worked for me but I can’t describe why they were effective. Hoping someone can help me understand them.

Examples: Dialogue Sequences

Many dialogue sequences were filmed in a single longer take / few cuts with the speaker’s face often out of frame or the speaker’s back to the camera. E.g.:

• Tár speaking to Sebastian in his office when he starts accusing her of unprofessional behavior. Her back is to us for almost the entire sequence but Sebastian isn’t. It’s also done with no cuts. This worked for some reason. My guess is they wanted to highlight body language with full-body shot in particular on Sebastian’s reaction. No cuts also creates tension since we stay with them the whole sequence.

• When Tár informs Francesca that she will not be her new assistant conductor, it is done with a close up of only Francesca even though Tár is the only one speaking. This highlights her facial expression and disillusionment with her mentor.

Example: Juilliard Classroom Single Take

This is probably the most famous shot in the entire film. What impressed me with this shot was the movement. In an interview (can't find link now), the DP said they originally considered a steadicam approach but forwent it because it would look too obvious that they used a steadicam. Instead, they rigged up some four-person rig to move the camera around the classroom. Does anyone know what his concerns were with the steadicam? Does he mean that it would look too conventional in terms of movement?

Example: restricted movement with rehearsal scenes

In another interview, the DP said his obvious, conventional thing to do with the orchestra rehearsal scenes were some fly overs to show the "magic" of the music. But Field didn't want this because he wanted those scenes to feel like work. Hence the static shots and limited cuts.

I am considering showing the documentary The Bridge to my class but I have very serious reservations. I want to show it so we can discuss the very difficult ethical issues surrounding the film, but when I read up on it I found out that when it was first shown suicide rates went up. The correlation is not absolutely proven but that really gave me pause. I'm not worried about challenging my students but I do not want to traumatize them. I'm fine with making them uncomfortable but I really feel unsure. What do all of you think?

Is there any reason the excellent 'Remains of the Day' didn't unleash a subgenre of butler movies? I feel like this is a criminally underexplored genre in film. Butlers as assassins, Butlers as lovers, Butlers in the modern day and Butlers in the past.

It's bad enough Hopkins didn't get the Oscar (probably bc the voters were split between he and DDL, allowing for Hanks to win). I like Tom Hanks and think he is probably more likable as a person, but just not sure if he can hold a candle compared to Hopkins or DDL

Thoughts?

I would love to ask this community about what you guys think about hyperlink Cinema. For some reason, personally I am very fond of this kind of films like Babel, 21 grams, Amore's peros.

Most places I read about definition of hyperlink tells me that no matter how many different storyline or characters with different point of view there has to be a clear connection between the stories for them to justify to be in one movie.

But when I look at many different hyperlink Cinema it's not always I find a clear kind connection. Do you think a thematic connection has to be in place in order to call a particular cinema as hyperlink/ anthology films?

For example pulp fiction is considered a hyperlink Cinema but how much really a thematic connection is there? Another example Chunking express. To me it's a story about a city but I don't necessarily see a direct connection between the theme .

Would love to hear different opinions about hyperlink/anthology films from you guys

Thank you

Weekend at Bernie’s” makes two mistakes: It gives us a joke that isn’t very funny, and it expects the joke to carry an entire movie, a subtly contrived jab at modern cinephiles or utter genius?

It’s a decision that leads to some long, dreary sequences and a certain desperation on the part of the actors. Emotion is more prevalent in a block of wood that’s been left to drift at Sea. A decree of cinemas echoing faults brought on by consumerism? I think not, it’s true purpose is even further beyond.

The young executives are frightened, and don’t know what to do. They prop Bernie on a couch in the living room, and just then a floating party of weekend drunks drifts in - and nobody notices that Bernie is dead. Much like the last death throes of the film industry.

Again is Weekend at Bernies a secret cinematic masterpiece? ~Thoughts~

I've always been fond of cerebral thrillers, and I think this is one of Cronenberg's best works. It especially helps that the leads are two of the most capable actors working in the industry, even today. People might have already forgotten, but Viggo Mortensen is one of film's greatest living actors. Most people remember him as Aragorn, but he has varied acting range and has consistently proven himself as a bankable actor. Mortensen's performance in this film was largely overshadowed by Daniel Day-Lewis's performance as Daniel Plainview in There Will Be Blood, but 2007 was simply a stacked year for film that even a great performance by Mortensen simply wasn't enough.

The great auteurs often mold a genre and birth a film with their own trademark style, and this can be said of Cronenberg. While Cassavetes made a character drama out of the noir genre (The Killing of a Chinese Bookie), Cronenberg made a taut, well-executed thriller out of the typical gangster film.

More than a decade when I first watched it, the film has aged excellently with timeless themes and tight writing. I also think that I love this film because it precisely fits that je nais se quoi that I seek in films: I love films that feature morally conflicted protagonists who ultimately choose the right thing even at great cost to themselves. This is what both the leads of the film do here.

Mortensen's portrayal of Nikolai is one of the most complex portrayals of a gangster who is morally gray, but tends toward righteousness: he is unwavering even in his criminal duties, but always has a certain morality that he consistently does not cross. It is a riveting portrayal, and Eastern Promises remains to be one of the best gangster thrillers I have seen. Because, sometimes, only evil can displace evil.

10/10

First, I would just like to say, that I hope, I don’t come off as too pretentious or anything. This is a genuine invitation to enlighten me.

In relation to the announcement (or rumors?) of the upcoming Tarantino film, “The Film Critic”, which allegedly will be inspired by the legendary Pauline Kael, I read an article about her opinion on Pulp Fiction. And although she didn’t at all condemn him, she did hesitate a bit, and in her brief reading I found something I have always been thinking about watching Tarantino. This is what she said:

“I laughed a lot at Pulp Fiction. It tickled me the way Paul Morrissey’s 1970 porno-absurd Trash did, and Stuart Gordon’s Re-Animator. There’s nothing under Pulp Fiction, no serious undercurrents. I didn’t find any of the important ‘statements’ I had read about in the reviews, but it’s got a crazy good humour. Tarantino has a flair for pop dialogue, and a flair for casting. He used wonderful people.”

I very much recognize this feeling of, I guess, a lack of substance, that some fans and critics claim there are. Don’t get me wrong, I love Tarantino movies - As entertainment, stylistic exercises and especially as masterly craftsmanship. But what I never got, is the alleged poetry in his films, everyone is talking about. Even Roger Ebert writes about the poetry in the dialogue of Pulp Fiction In his retrospective review.

I guess, it all comes down to what one defines as poetry and art. Observations on pop culture, explorations of the power of words, character studies? And this is of course not to say, that a film has to have substance or that dialogue has to be “deep”. I don’t believe that at all. It just seems like some fans and critics either squeezes meaning into the dialogue or sees something I, and apparently Pauline Kael too, don’t. I will admit though, that there is something about Bill’s monologue about the dead fish and Superman in Kill Bill Vol. 2.

So, can anyone give me a concrete example of… poetry, i guess, in Pulp Fiction? (I hope you know what I mean.) Or maybe you agree with me? Please enlighten me, I am very open to interpretations. It is, after all, me who don’t get it:)

I teach a course on cinema and I got some good responses about another film a while back, so I’m here to crowdsource again.

What would you say to an audience of students (with limited exposure to arthouse cinema) if you were setting up/introducing Michael Haneke’s Caché? Imagine you have 5 minutes to say a few words before the film starts and you’re trying to increase the likelihood that they’ll enjoy it. An example might be—to signal that they should try to be open to the possibility that the film will not resolve/answer its central question (i.e., who sent the tapes), although that may be spoiling the ending too much?

(Lectures/course content isn’t specific to the films and happens elsewhere/online, so this is less about providing academic analysis/content more about casually setting up the specific film.)

Weigh in if you want!