I balk at the idea of rating art, yet here I am. Always trying to learn. Can't be static, I suppose.
"The poets down here don’t write nothing at all, they just stand back and let it all be..."
Viveik Kalra is Javed, bouncing from scene to scene. A poet, but no singer. Though he has the courage to serenade publicly. Desiring connection, but yearning to satisfy an independent streak. Dreaming of the wide open world. "Is a dream a lie, if it don't come true, or is it something worse?", he quotes. Blinded by the Light confers new meaning on…
I love how The American Friend plays with light and colour; almost everything drab, murky, dank, wet, sick, dusty, cold. Everything is cold. Almost. Quite consequently, there's the 'wrong' blue, the red Beetle, a red coat, the relief and brief release of a funfair, a flashing Polaroid, a Wurlitzer jukebox, a hopeful sunrise. And the most colourful thing of all: Dennis Hopper yelling about being "confused". Bruno Ganz slopes and jolts his way through the drab streets and cold workshops,…
There's nothing like an anti-surveillance state, conspiracy thriller to lift my mood.
Enemy of the State, which is one of the first 'grown up' films I remember seeing, should be credited with sparking my <s>paranoia</s> reasonable, logically-founded fears and concerns. An introduction to mature awareness of potential for abuse of state power. I used to fantasise about having to destroy all traces of my life, disappear, go underground, because of an errant phone call.
It's tremendous fun. Tony Scott's pacing…
I would have liked to have been enveloped by the atmosphere at the beginning. It all felt quite rushed; patience in the direction and editing would have gone a long way. Conversely, the latter half would have benefitted from a purposeful, pulsing rhythm. I did not find myself... bound to Il legame.
I watched an English language dub.