Bingham_Bryant

Bingham_Bryant Pro

Favorite films

Don’t forget to select your favorite films!

Recent activity

All
  • Priscilla

  • Hour of the Gun

  • Bruxelles: à la Foire du Midi

  • Negu hurbilak

Recent reviews

More
  • Pleasures of the Flesh

    Pleasures of the Flesh

    Very interesting how Oshima here makes a near perfect ghost film, adopting and adapting a whole catalogue of the formal techniques of the genre, especially in its Japanese iterations. However, all of his phantoms are of living persons. A dead man could appear, but does not – that would imply some kind of karmic vengeance, or conscience on the protagonist's part, and neither exist here.

    Much less convinced about its ties to the pinku genre. Can anyone point to concrete…

  • P. P. Rider

    P. P. Rider

    These gestures are simultaneously a movement outward, testing the contours of an impossibly complex and ever-shifting world, and a movement inward, probing their own unknowable emotions, minds, spirits. Sōmai’s characters are jumping out of their skins. They are possessed—in the sense of a soul exceeding the body, spilling out from it. As in Bresson, Rivette, Ozu, Godard, and Rossellini’s, this is a cinema where spirit and the material world are inextricably bound up in one another, in which movement speaks and words have an autonomous, illogical weight.

    My piece on Sōmai for the Brooklyn Rail :
    brooklynrail.org/2023/05/film/Rites-of-Passage-The-Films-of-Shinji-Somai

Popular reviews

More
  • The Worst Person in the World

    The Worst Person in the World

    Amélie for millennials, though I'm sure Jeunet's bonbon, swarming with wasps and green and red mold, has aged better than this will. Some of the most cynical product I've seen in years. It's like the NYT Op-Ed page mated with an in-flight entertainment system. Irredeemable, witless, ugly trash (yes, even taking into account some pretty sharp performances).

  • Pacifiction

    Pacifiction

    Not a single cut, not a single framing of substance or pleasure for nearly three hours. Just image after image, nothing between them. What does it mean when this no longer matters in the supposedly rarefied realm of arthouse cinema? And what else can we expect from an absolute, unalloyed program of coverage shooting – except sharper editing, less racism, less transmisogyny, some narrative invention or sensuality, some care or attention anywhere except on planing down all surfaces, all humanity,…