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When “Schindler’s List” was released in December 1993, triggering a discourse Among the many Jewish intelligentsia so heated and high-stakes that it makes any of today’s Twitter discourse feel spandex-thin by comparison, Village Voice critic J. Hoberman questioned the prevalent knowledge that Spielberg’s masterpiece would forever adjust how people think in the Holocaust.
“Deep Cover” is many things at once, including a quasi-male love story between Russell and David, a heated denunciation of capitalism and American imperialism, and ultimately a bitter critique of policing’s impact on Black cops once Russell begins resorting to murderous underworld tactics. At its core, however, Duke’s exquisitely neon-lit film — a hard-boiled style picture that’s carried by a banging hip-hop soundtrack, sees criminality in both the shadows along with the Sunlight, and keeps its unerring gaze focused within the intersection between noir and Blackness — is about the duality of id more than anything else.
Babbit delivers the best of both worlds with a genuine and touching romance that blossoms amidst her wildly entertaining satire. While Megan and Graham are the central love story, the ensemble of test-hard nerds, queercore punks, and mama’s boys offers a little something for everyone.
The old joke goes that it’s hard for a cannibal to make friends, and Bird’s bloody smile of the Western delivers the punchline with pieces of David Arquette and Jeremy Davies stuck between its teeth, twisting the colonialist mindset behind Manifest Destiny into a bonafide meal plan that it sums up with its opening epipgrah and then slathers all over the monitor until everyone gets their just desserts: “Eat me.” —DE
Like many on the best films of its ten years, “Beau Travail” freely shifts between fantasy and reality without stopping to determine them by name, resulting inside of a kind of cinematic hypnosis that audiences experienced rarely seen deployed with such secret or confidence.
Figuratively (and almost literally) the ultimate movie of the 20th Century, “Fight Club” will be the story of an average white American guy so alienated from his id that he becomes his own
Ada is insular and self-contained, but Campion outfitted the film with some unique touches that allow Ada to give voice to her passions, care of the inventive voiceover that is presumed to come from her brain, rather than her mouth. While Ada suffers a series of profound setbacks after her arrival, mostly stemming from her husband’s refusal to house her beloved piano, her fortunes change when George promises to take it in, asking for lessons in return.
A cacophonously intimate character study about a woman named Julie (a 29-year-outdated Juliette Binoche) who survives the vehicle crash that kills her famous composer husband and their innocent young daughter — and then tries to cope with her reduction by dissociating from the life she once shared with them — “Blue” devastatingly sets the tone for the trilogy that’s less interested in “Magnolia”-like coincidences than in refuting The concept that life is ever as understandable as human subjectivity (or that of a film camera) can make it appear to be.
Jane Campion doesn’t place much stock in labels — seemingly preferring to adhere for the old Groucho Marx chestnut, “I don’t want to belong to free sex porn any club that will take people like me as being a member” — and it has expended her career pursuing work that speaks to her sensibilities. Inquire Campion for her personal views of feminism, and also you’re likely to have an answer like the 1 she gave fellow filmmaker Katherine Dieckmann within a chat for Interview Magazine back in 1992, when she was still working on “The Piano” (then known as “The Piano Lesson”): “I don’t belong to any clubs, sex and I dislike club mentality of any kind, even feminism—although I do relate to your purpose and point of feminism.”
It didn’t work out so well to the last girl, but what does Adèle care? The hole in her heart is almost as large since the hole between her teeth, and there isn’t a man alive who’s been capable to fill it to this point.
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 with the cave in Plato’s “Republic,” “The Apple” is ultimately an epistemological spangbang tale — a timeless parable that distills the wonders of the liberated life. —NW
Making the most of his background for a documentary filmmaker, Hirokazu Kore-eda distills the endless possibilities of this premise into a series of polite interrogations, his camera watching observantly as more than a half-dozen characters attempt to distill themselves into 1 perfect instant. The episodes they ultimately choose are wistful and wise, each moving in its individual way.
“Raise the Purple Lantern” challenged staid perceptions of Chinese cinema inside the West, and sky-rocketed actress Gong Li to international stardom. At home, however, the film was criticized for trying to appeal to foreigners, and even banned from screening in theaters (it was later permitted to air on television).
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