give me every single hangout film about the last gasp of a dying era and i will love every last one.
also, i'm gonna go back in time and have l*t*r*lly s* m*ch s*x with 1977 jeff goldblum. outrageous amounts.
Fractals and logic and the northern lights. Particular drum beats and the color indigo and Albert Camus's lyrical essays. The sandy labyrinth underneath the high school. Three smokestacks blinking off-tempo crimson. What captures us, inexplicably.
Tell me about that. What moves you? ... I'm interested in what moves you, particularly about a building.
witness the large cultural infatuation with the liminal - two separate large twitter accounts dedicated to liminal spaces, an entire subreddit dedicated to “the night feeling,” all saturated with images of streetlights hitting a rain-dappled road or the light flickering inside a long-forgotten ATM or a McDonald’s hollowed out well past midnight. fallen angels taps into what is so intoxicating about that type of atmosphere, both from an aesthetic perspective and a deeply human one; before and after the photograph…
not a single second of this entire film is wasted. the only movie that understands that sex is about everything other than sex - every single psychological, societal, personal force that inspires the pursuit of sex. perversion and power masked in opulence and freedom. tom cruise never has sex despite searching endlessly for it; when he reaches finally for another pair of tits, they are the only pair in the whole film we do not see on screen. really what i'm getting at is that eyes wide shut isn't a movie about sex but about how sex exists in our minds. fucking perfect.