Logan is so stripped down, its consciousness so present, its avoidance of hollowness so steadfast, that it wouldn't be enough to call it a classic superhero movie. This, friends, is simply a classic film. It's the sort of finale that should, if Hollywood would allow it, see its stars off into satisfied retirement, and into the genre’s annals.
This envelope gaffe consigned two films to an unwarranted singular aftermath; one that separates them from their individual merits. It's unfortunate. However, this manner of assigning single infamies has underlined the Oscars from nomination day. A few weeks later, we were able to summarise most of the Best Picture nominees in one line, and often it will be patronising and cursory. We have the pundits to thank for that, and swathes of lethargic audiences whose cinematic appetite is determined by intellectually undemanding stuff.
Capping off a Golden Globes ceremony full of moderately memorable moments, Meryl Streep took the stage to remind the audience of the importance of actors, diversity and the press.
Howl's Moving Castle is spellbinding and exquisitely crafted. It is a visually stunning annal in anime.
Rear Window will be a valuable and fascinating film for good.
Overall, this film is about people and the simple essence of relationships: be they between friends, lovers, workmates or foes. Everyone is granted the dignity of being human, whichever side of the law they're on.
There is something to be said about a film that draws you in so deliberately, so gracefully, that you know you are a different person going out. Only, what can I say...
By the end of this documentary, the floorboards have been lifted, and a previously concealed but extremely ugly part of America's racially-storied past is revealed.
While watching this, I felt something I don't feel often enough; comradeship and appreciation. The Wilderpeople are my friends, and the filmmakers like me.
It is evident that Tarkovsky drew much of this film's inspiration from his own life. This is his contemplation on the profundity and transience of life.
I cannot emphasise enough how visually stunning this film is. You have seen many variations of this story before, but not with this dedication to picturesque craft.
Bamako is necessary and consequential. It beautifully conveys the type of conversations we ought to have about Africa; pragmatic, unabated and free of hyperbole.
The point is, we don't know how we'd react until the calamity happens, whether it's as typical as a fight with your boss, or as profound as the world ending. Melancholia imagines scenarios of both extremes, and lets us in on what they may do to the witnesses and participants.
This film was part of the movement that led to the genre's acceptance in the mainstream, and rightfully so. Otomo made an audacious anime, the most expensive and technically taxing at the time.
Villeneuve has an almost divine dexterity at creating tension; letting it build over dozens of on-screen minutes. Nothing seems contrived, and the payoffs are surprising and satisfying.
This film takes place in a time when communities were smaller and simpler, and social ties were more tangible. The spaces between people were bigger, but there didn't yet exist the pervasive technology or persuasion to present oneself as distinctly different from who one was. This is its chief intrigue.
What was most profound about this film--and I say this from that seen-but-not-heard Moi era generation--was the honesty of the depiction of these characters. They're allowed to just be.
Legend reminds us of the commitment to excellence that has formed much of Jackie Chan's work ethic. Its final battle, for instance, lasts a little over seven minutes, but was filmed over four months. Count them. Four. Months.