Siegfried Kracauer in his 1960 Theory of Film describes the dream that fueled the development of film in the following way:
“About 1860, Cookk and Bonneli, who had developed a device called a photobioscope, predicted a "complete revolution of photographic art... We will see... landscapes," they announced, 'in which the trees bow to the whims of the wind, the leaves ripple and glitter in the rays of the sun.' Along with the familiar photographic leitmotif of the leaves, such kindred…
It is rare and exhilarating to have a movie force you to take it in on its terms, with a complete disregard for your aesthetic preconceptions. Instead of pandering to expectations, the directorial choices in The Turin Horse frustrates them in an effort to produce a very specific emotion: angst.
The formal elements clearly testify to a master at work. The cinematography is austere and awesome (in the traditional sense of the word). The score is ominous and droning, clearly…
Masterful surrealism, reminded me of The Color of Pomegranates. All over the place but unforgettable imagery. Some strong B-Movie vibes hurt the score a little.
I felt nothing. The comedy is telegraphed, the deaths have no weight. How do people watch this shit? It’s an insult to the human experience and doesn’t even get what makes wuxia so beautiful.
Manages, in two hours, to successfully, in my view, argue that oil paintings => advertisements was one long continuous evolution in capitalist expression. If that doesn’t impress you I’m not sure what would.
