The film is framed as being the recollections of Sergeant Galoup, a former French legionnaire stationed in Djibouti (he’s played with a mixture of cruel reserve and vigorous physicality by the great Denis Lavant). Loosely determined by Herman Melville’s 1888 novella “Billy Budd,” the film makes brilliant use on the Benjamin Britten opera that was likewise encouraged by Melville’s work, as excerpts from Britten’s opus take over a haunting, nightmarish quality as they’re played over the unsparing training physical exercises to which Galoup subjects his regiment: A dry swell of shirtless legionnaires standing within the desert with their arms in the air and their eyes closed like communing with a higher power, or continuously smashing their bodies against just one another in a very number of violent embraces.
Davies may perhaps still be searching for your love of his life, although the bravura climactic sequence he stages here — a number of god’s-eye-view panning shots that soften church, school, plus the cinema into a single place within the director’s memory, all of them held together with the double-edged wistfulness of Debbie Reynolds’ singing voice — propose that he’s never suffered for an absence of romance.
A.’s snuff-film underground anticipates his Hollywood cautionary tale “Mulholland Drive.” Lynch plays with classic noir archetypes — namely, the manipulative femme fatale and her naive prey — throughout the film, bending, twisting, and turning them back onto themselves until the nature of identification and free will themselves are called into question.
Like Bennett Miller’s 1-human being doc “The Cruise,” Vintenberg’s film showed how the textured look with the cheap DV camera could be used expressively from the spirit of 16mm films in the ’60s and ’70s. Above all else, though, “The Celebration” is an incredibly powerful story, well told, and fueled by youthful cinematic Strength. —
It’s now The style for straight actors to “go gay” onscreen, but rarely are they as naked (figuratively and otherwise) than Phoenix and Reeves were here. —RL
auteur’s most endearing Jean Reno character, his most discomforting portrayal of a lewd floosy destroyed by monster (very) young woman to the verge of a (very) personal transformation, and his most instantly percussive Éric Serra score. It prioritizes cool style over widespread feeling at every possible juncture — how else to explain Léon’s superhuman power to fade into the shadows and crannies of your Manhattan apartments where he goes about his business?
“He exists now only in my memory,” Rose said of Jack cougar porn before sharing her sex18 story with Invoice Paxton (RIP) and his crew; through the time she reached the tip of it, the late Mr. Dawson would be remembered because of the entire world. —DE
James Cameron’s 1991 blockbuster (to wit, over half a billion bucks in worldwide returns) is consistently — and rightly — hailed since the best with the sprawling apocalyptic franchise about the need not to misjudge both Arnold Schwarzenegger and Linda Hamilton.
A dizzying epic of reinvention, Paul Thomas Anderson’s seedy and sensational second film found the 28-year-old directing with the swagger of a young porn star in possession of a massive
An endlessly clever exploit with the public domain, “Shakespeare in Love” regrounds the most star-crossed love story ever told by inventing a host of (very) fictional details about its generation that all stem from a single truth: Even the most immortal artwork is altogether human, and a product of every one of the passion and nonsense that comes with that.
But Makhmalbaf’s storytelling praxis is so patient and full of temerity that the film outgrows its verité-style portrait and becomes something mythopoetic. Like the allegory of your cave in hotmail inbox Plato’s “Republic,” “The Apple” is ultimately an epistemological tale — a timeless parable that distills the wonders of a liberated life. —NW
‘s good results proved that a literary gay romance established in repressed early-twentieth-century England was as worthy of an enormous-screen time period piece as the entanglements of straight star-crossed aristocratic lovers.
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We asked to the movies that had them at “hello,” the esoteric picks they’ve never forgotten, the Hollywood monoliths, the international gems, the documentaries that captured time in a bottle, and also the kind of blockbusters they just don’t make anymore.