Thank god she didn’t watch “Requiem for a Dream.”
My wife cries at the end of almost every movie. It’s really cute. I grabbed my camera to capture this moment right after we finished Return of the Jedi.
Note: I love my wife to death! She was okay after about 25 minutes. She laughed when she saw this video.
John Patterson at the Guardian’s critical appreciation of The New World, one of my favorite movies from my favorite director, ever. Patterson calls it the best movie of the decade. I think he’s probably right. It’s the kind of movie that will help you breathe for weeks. John says:
This decade hasn’t been up to much, movie-wise, but I am more than ever convinced that when every other scrap of celluloid from 2000-2009 has crumbled to dust, one film will remain, like some Ozymandias-like remnant of transient vanished glory in the desert. And that film is The New World, Terrence Malick’s American foundation myth, which arrived just as the decade reached its dismal halfway point, in January 2006.
It’s been said that The New World doesn’t have fans: it has disciples and partisans and fanatics. I’m one of them, and my fanaticism burns undimmed 30 or more viewings later. The New World is a bottomless movie, almost unspeakably beautiful and formally harmonious. The movie came and went within a month, and its critical reception was characterised for the most part by bafflement, condescension, lazy ridicule and outright hostility. And, less often, by faintly hysterical accolades written too soon and in terms too overheated to convey understanding. I know, I wrote one of them.
I was lucky. I saw the movie at 10 in the morning, on 20 minutes’ notice. I knew only that it was about Pocahontas and Captain John Smith, and was directed by the man who made Badlands, Days of Heaven and The Thin Red Line. I saw it on a screen the size of a warehouse wall, boasting a state-of-the-art sound system that picked out every insect whirr and birdcall, every droplet of falling water, every muted sigh. Having been underwhelmed by The Thin Red Line (upon which critics had ?
Kino Video continues to put out sets devoted to the preservation of early avant-garde cinema. Volume 3 just came out, and, on YouTube, I managed to stumble across one of its more intriguing offerings. Directed by silent film-makers James Sibley Watson and Alec Wilder, Tomato Is Another Day (1930) featured an acting style that emphasized a flatness that was both weirdly druggy and overtly explanatory.
This was, of course, all by design. Watson and Wilder hatched TIAD as way of mocking the hyper-verbosity of the then-faddish “talkies” that were poised to sweep aside the expressive, gesture-based film-making of the silent era.
As mentioned earlier on Dangerous Minds, Gummo auteur Harmony Korine’s new film follows around a band of masked degenerates who like to, well…hump piles of trash. Vice magazine gives Harmony some room to explain himself, and reminisce about his childhood:
I remembered that when I was a kid there was this group of elderly Peeping Toms who used to hang out in the neighborhood, and sometimes I would see them stare into my next-door neighbor?