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, one of the most beloved films of your ’80s as well as a Steven Spielberg drama, has lots going for it: a stellar cast, including Oscar nominees Whoopi Goldberg and Oprah Winfrey, Pulitzer Prize-profitable source material plus a timeless theme of love (in this situation, between two women) as a haven from trauma.
“Hyenas” is among the great adaptations from the ‘90s, a transplantation of a Swiss playwright’s post-World War II story of how a community could fall into fascism for a parable of globalization: like so many Western companies throughout Africa, Linguere has supplied some material comforts towards the people of Colobane while ruining their financial state, shuttering their sector, and making the people completely depending on them.
There is the strategy of bloody satisfaction that Eastwood takes. As this country, in its endless foreign adventurism, has so many times in ostensibly defending democracy.
Created in 1994, but taking place over the eve of Y2K, the film – established in an apocalyptic Los Angeles – is actually a clear commentary on the police assault of Rodney King, and a reflection on the days when the grainy tape played over a loop for white and Black audiences alike. The friction in “Bizarre Days,” however, partly stems from Mace hoping that her white friend, Lenny, will make the right decision, only to find out him continually fail by trying to save his troubled, white ex-girlfriend Faith (Juliette Lewis).
“Rumble inside the Bronx” may very well be established in New York (however hilariously shot in Vancouver), but this Golden Harvest production is Hong Kong into the bone, as well as the ten years’s single giddiest display of why Jackie Chan deserves his frequent comparisons to Buster Keaton. While the story is whatever — Chan plays a Hong Kong cop who comes to the massive Apple for his uncle’s wedding and soon finds himself embroiled in some mob drama about stolen diamonds — the charisma is off the charts, the jokes connect with the power of spinning windmill kicks, and the Looney Tunes-like action sequences are more breathtaking than just about anything that had ever been shot on these shores.
The second of three minimal-price range 16mm films that Olivier Assayas would make between 1994 and 1997, “Irma Vep” wrestles with the inexorable presentness of cinema’s earlier in order to help divine its future; it’s a lithe and unassuming piece of meta-fiction that goes many of the way back towards the silent era in order to arrive at something that feels completely new — or that at least reminds audiences of how thrilling that discovery could be.
A cacophonously intimate character study about a woman named Julie (a 29-year-aged Juliette Binoche) who survives the vehicle crash that kills her famous composer husband and their innocent young daughter sexy picture — and then tries to manage with her reduction by dissociating from the life she once shared with them — “Blue” devastatingly sets the tone for just a trilogy that’s less interested in “Magnolia”-like coincidences than in refuting The reasoning that life is ever as understandable as human subjectivity (or that of a film camera) can make it look.
And but “Eyes Wide Shut” hardly involves its astounding meta-textual mythology (which includes the tabloid fascination around Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman’s ill-fated marriage) to earn its place because the definitive film on the real porn nineties. What’s more crucial is that its release within the last year of hotsextube your last 10 years with the twentieth century feels like a fated rhyme to the fin-de-siècle Strength of Schnitzler’s novella — set in Vienna roughly one hundred years before — a rhyme that resonates with another story about upper-class people floating so high above their own lives they can begin to see the whole world clearly save to the abyss that’s yawning open at their feet.
None of this would have been possible if not for Jim Carrey’s career-defining performance. No other actor could have captured the combination of joy and darkness that made Truman Burbank so captivating to both the fictional viewers watching his show along with the moviegoers in 1998.
“Public Housing” presents a tough balancing act for just a filmmaker who’s drawn to poverty but also dead-established against the manipulative sentimentality of aestheticizing it, and nevertheless Wiseman is uniquely well-geared up with the challenge. His camera only lets the residents be, and they reveal themselves to it in response. We meet an elderly woman, living on her own, who cleans a huge lettuce leaf with Jeanne Dielman-like care and then celebrates by calling a loved a person to talk about how she’s not “doing so very hot.
had the confidence or maybe the cocaine or whatever the hell it took to attempt something like this, because the porm bigger the movie gets, the more it seems like it couldn’t afford being any smaller.
Maybe it’s fitting that a road movie — the ultimate road movie — exists in so many different iterations, each longer than the next, spliced together from other iterations that together develop a perception of the grand cohesive whole. There is beauty in its meandering quality, its aim not on the kind of stop-of-the-world plotting that would have Gerard sex18 Butler foaming with the mouth, but over the consolation of friends, lovers, family, acquaintances, and strangers just hanging out. —ES
, future Golden Globe winner Josh O’Connor floored critics with his performance for a young gay sheep farmer in Yorkshire, England, who’s struggling with his sexuality and budding feelings to get a new Romanian migrant laborer.