Like maybe only an amateur can, Eagle Pennell created a lived-in, fully-realized world familiar from real life but foreign to movies, and he painted this canvas in slight variation for two and one-half inimitable films, using the same two actors and practically the same locations. If you were to take Budweiser, rodeos, and baseball caps—the red state signifiers that made American Sniper so much money—and invert them into Lone Star, bar brawls, and hats advertising Big Ag, you might be…
All the stars.
The kind of movie that, even on a third viewing, makes you ashamed of the last 100 movies you watched, the last 100 days you lived (or rather, didn't), your humdrum existence a pathetic placeholder for what should be called living. A film where not being loved is a kind of dying, where loving without loving is a way of killing.
Transcend life in art and art in life. Jean Cocteau is dead, forever and never. Believe…
If old Hollywood was a fantasy, expertly presented, of what it is to be rich, then here in the Scottish Isles, on the shores of the Inner Hebrides, a gale away from Corryvreckan – where Orwell almost drowned – in a phone booth by a waterfall, as far from Hollywood as could be, yet with all the repartee and more, is the other story, an island people's fantasy of what life is like when money isn't everything.
The most enchanting picture about living in the country that there ever was, by two seals singing in the fog. 🌨 🌪 🌊 🛶 🦅
A picture with a piquant strangeness, marked by the crooked speech of Jennifer Jones, Esmond Knight, and Hugh Griffith, who perform weird & memorable roles in outlandish accents as if bee-keeping coffin-makers raised Gypsy heathen animal rights activists every day in Shropshire. The story, which reveals itself gradually as its regionalism becomes slightly less unintelligible, pits body against soul with woman in the middle.
At the heart of the image is a girl opposed to patriarchy in its evident forms: hunting,…
Agnès Varda likes daydreams, not psychology. Her movies jump not from one thing to the next but from one thing to a next, always opening, never closing. One film, a documentary made of fictional parts (Jane B. par Agnès V.), leads to another, a fiction made of documentary (Kung-fu Master!), starring Jane Birkin's daughters, Charlotte Gainsbourg and Lou Doillon, and Varda's son, Mathieu Demy.
Birkin said she wanted “to make a feature film about how I really am: jeans, old…