Love me some Lubitsch
‘A tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing’ could be a nice little summary of so much of the Coen’s work. Excellent performances, streets ahead of the Kurzel in terms of conveying the story, some really stunning flourishes and it’s nice to see a film own its artifice in a way like this. I just wonder if in the face of the Welles, which makes so many similar choices but on more of a genuine shoestring that this version might be a wee bit redundant..
A remarkably effective mix of formal brilliance and keenly observed human moments. In just her first feature we already have such a strong sense of what an Amalia Ulman picture is, and not only what it is but that we want more of it. Has a wonderful sense of wit, but then knows how to land a devastating gut punch.
It feels so harsh to speak ill of something that is so well intentioned and which will no doubt bring so much joy to people, but I found this thing to be totally mediocre.
I still haven’t read the novel, and my only prior experience of this story comes from Gillian Armstrong’s film version, which I know a lot of fans of the book (my mother included) have issues with.
I find Armstrong’s film on its own terms to be magnificent,…
A distillation of everything that makes up paranoia. This is what people have long said about somebody like Rivette, but formally Ferrara and Sean Price Williams have made something here which is the formal antithesis of Rivette’s world of paranoia.
Disease, terrorism, torture, pursuit by military forces, betrayal and suicide bombing are all viscerally presented, and often without any need for motivation, just the concepts themselves carry the dread.
But, as with a lot of Ferrara, the most paranoiac force…