Jim and Mary are two lonely people living in the same apartment complex in New City, though they've never actually met. Jim works in a metal-producing factory, while Mary runs a switchboard for the telephone company. While both seem to make a decent living, they are both lonely, missing that special someone in their lives. One afternoon, Jim heads to Coney Island in an effort to enjoy himself, quickly spotting Mary on the bus. Jim is a relatively shy guy but he eventually sparks up the courage to introduce himself while on the beach. The two instantly hit it off, sharing undeniable chemistry as they spend the course of the day together falling in love. However, after a roller coaster malfunction at the amusement park, the two find themselves separated, desperately trying to find one and other. What was the start of a beautiful relationship is instantly threatened, with Jim and Mary both fearing their inability to find each other will push them back into their lonely state of isolation. Paul Fejos' Lonesome is without a doubt one of the most impressive films of the silent era. Featuring a poetic love story, Lonesome is a film that captures urban isolation and the loneliness of adulthood like few films can. From the onset of Lonesome, Paul Fejos captures the fast-paced hustle of New York City, juxtaposing the busy streets of Manhattan with the quiet, loneliness of both Mary and Jim. Even though they are surrounded by this fast-paced, kinetic world, both Jim and Mary can't help but feel all alone. These are characters that feel alienated and the way Lonesome's story unfolds is one of the most poetic and beautiful stories of fate and love ever committed to celluloid. Lonesome is a film that personifies many of the strengths of silent film, using lots of overlaying images and visceral editing that encapsulate the vitality of the era. I particularly loved the scene early in the film which chronicles the work days of our two main protagonist. Fejos overlays the numbers of a clock over our two protagonists as they work away, capturing in a very visual way, how time itself is passing them by. Full of energy, sadness, love, and life itself, Paul Fejos' Lonesome is an incredibly simple story with profound implications, making it a love story that stands along side other masterpieces like F.W. Murnau's Sunrise.
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Angela deMarco is a unhappily married housewife of Mafia hitman Frank deMarco. Angela has grown frustrated with her husbands line of work, but the more she pushes him to the change, the harder he resists even the idea of leaving the Mob. Frank loves the lifestyle, cheating on Angela with Nancy Travis, the mob bosses' girlfriend. Tony 'The Tiger' Russo is not the type of mob boss to mess with, and when he discovers what is going on between Frank and Nancy, he murders both of them in the act. At the funeral, Tony takes a liking to Angela, plying for her affection with expensive gifts and promises of being taken care of. Intent on starting a new life, Angela leaves town but when she gets mixed up with Mike Downey, a seemingly nice guy who also happens to be an FBI agent, Angela is forced to get involved again, setting up a rendezvous with Tony 'The Tiger' in an effort to bring him to justice once and for all. Jonathan Demme's Married to the Mob is an eclectic mix of genres, en-capturing aspects of comedy, romance, and drama into a film that is hard not to enjoy. While not nearly as emotionally poignant as some of Demme's other work, Married to the Mob goes deeper than one would expect, almost being a woman's empowerment film between both Angela's plight and the story revolving around Tony's wife. Make no mistake, Married to the Mob is pretty fluffy, but it features a surprising amount of thematic weight, most notably being a story of self-discovery in which Angela is finally able to feel like an independent woman and live her life on her own terms. At this point in Jonathan Demme's career he was making films reminiscent of Preston Sturges's praised filmography, showing an ability to capture both the whimsical and dramatic qualities of life, while delivering another entertaining experience. Foolishly trusting her boyfriend of only a week, Lucy agrees to deliver a mysterious briefcase to Mr. Jang. What was supposed to be an easy way to make a few bucks quickly turns into a nightmare, as Lucy is kidnapped and turned into a drug mule for a new, powerful synthetic drug. When the bag she is carrying inside her stomach breaks, Lucy's mind and body undergo unbelievable changes, giving Lucy the capacity to use 100% of her brain. With her new found super powers Lucy sets her sights on revenge, going after the men responsible for her kidnapping. Luc Besson is a filmmaker that doesn't try to think too hard, and with Lucy he has created an exercise in blockbuster filmmaking that's incredibly stupid but also incredibly unique. Lucy is a film that should be praised for its creativity and while the concept requires checking your brain at the door, it's refreshing to experience a film so different from the norm. It's a fast-paced action film thats pseudoscience and boneheaded metaphysics are best enjoyed with pure ignorance. With so many films these days being insufferably overlong, Luc Besson's Lucy is a refreshing 85 minutes that never overstays its welcome. Stylistically engaging, Lucy is a visceral experience, using frantic editing and unique action set-pieces to make the film something that is sure to be enjoyed by those willing to forgive the absurd premise. Thematically, Lucy is a film that questions whether human kind is wasting its potential, a bizarre concern of a film more interested in stylish action than profound ideas about the human condition. On the surface, the Lisbon family appears to be a healthy, happy 1970s family living in the seemingly perfect middle-class home in a Michigan suburb. Mr. Lisbon is a math teacher, his wife a strict religious type, and together they have five beautiful teenage daughters who are lusted over by all the neighborhood boys. When 13-year-old Cecilia commits suicide, the family begins to degenerate, with the remaining girls being further quarantined from any social interaction by their protective mother, which does much more harm than good to the young girl's fragile psyches. Sophia Coppola's The Virgin Suicides is a meditative study of repression, capturing how forced repression of the most fundamental human desires can lead to tragedy. The Virgin Suicides is a subtle examination first, but as the film progresses it becomes clear that The Virgin Suicides is somewhat vapid, never reaching the true psychological study of its characters it promises from the on-set. Through repression by their mother, these girls become obsessed with boys and the forbidden, but Coppola never spends enough time getting into the psyche of these characters, fully satisfied with painting a superficial portrait of the loss of innocence these woman experience. To be fair, one could certainly argue that this vapid, almost superficial examination is precisely the point, being that much of what we know and see of these characters comes from an outside perspective. While the faults of the screenplay keep The Virgin Suicides from being something truly special, Coppola's direction is impressive, creating a dream-like atmosphere that creates a somber, almost fable-like tone. While The Virgin Suicides lacks emotional resonance, Coppola's The Virgin Suicides is an impressive first feature in which she creates a dream-like study of the loss of innocence. Andrew Neyman is a young, ambitious jazz drummer, who wants nothing more than to be one of the greats. Accepted into the top music conservatory in the country, Andrew works extremely hard to rise to the top, dedicating long hours in the process. Considering his protective father's own failure as a writer, Andrew's hunger to be succesful consumes him, leading him into the top jazz ensembler led by Terence Fletcher, a highly regarded instructor with extreme teaching methods. The combination of Fletcher's ruthless teaching methods and Andrew's obession to be great creates a dangerous dynamic which threatens to detroy Andrew. Damien Chazelle's Whiplash is a fast-paced visceral examination of passion and obsession that pits two strong-minded characters against one and other. This is a film with narrative flaws, most notably side-characters such as Andrew's Girlfriend and Andrew's father, who feel almost completely unnecessary to the story. Luckily for Whiplash, this hardly matters, given the incredibly dynamic it creates between its two lead characters. Whiplash is a film that feels more like a boxing match, piting these character's wills against each other, as they both fight and claw for what they believe is right. While both actors give great performances, J.K. Simmon's performance as Terence Fletcher is incredibly dynamic. This is a man who doesn't believe in encouragement, convinced that the best type of teaching involves pushing his students until they break. Seemingly a monster, Fletcher is a character who really cares about music, crossing the line in an effort to push his students to be better. Whiplash is a film that explores the line between tough love and abuse, obsession vs. passion, creating an intense character study of two men who refues to lose. Maggie, a recently divorced single mother, has just moved into a new home in Brooklyn with her 12-year old son, Oliver. Working extremely long hours at a Hospital in an effort to make enough money, Maggie is unable to spend much time with Oliver, needing a baby-sitter to help out. Enter Vincent, a grumpy, mean old man who lives directly next door. Vincent isn't exactly a perfect candidate, given his penchant to drink, smoke, and gamble, but Maggie has very few options, and Vincent needs the money. What at first seems like a terrible idea, quickly turns into an odd friendship between Oliver and Vincent, with each of them providing something that was missing to one and other. Theodore Melfi's St. Vincent is a charming albeit overly-sentimental film, that rides on the wings of Bill Murray's fantastic performance. Bill Murray's performance in St. Vincent is one of the actors' greatest, encapturing a beaten-down, crude old man whose become angry at life and everything in it. Vincent is a character that is an extremely funny but equally sad, and Murray subtlely encaptures that. St. Vincent's narrative is straight-forward with typical dramatic beats but Murray's performance convinces you to care about this story, making the dramatic impact more impressive than it has any right being. Outside of Vincent, the film falls victim to mostly poor characterizations, with Melissa McCarthy's Maggie character feeling far too under-developed. I did at times feel St. Vincent could have benefited by exploring the mother/son dynamic but then again, it would mean less Murray. St. Vincent tweaks the genre tropes enough to be interesting, using Murray's fantastic performance to make the overly-sentimental narrative surprisingly enjoyable. After going alone on a walk in the woods, Beth Slocum tragically dies due to a fatal snake bite. Her death sends her parents and boyfriend Zach into mourning, as they try desperately to find solace in each other. One night, Zac shows up to Mr. and Mrs. Slocum's house, only to be rejected and told to go away. Determined to figure out why, Zach sneaks around their home discovering that Beth is very much alive. It appears that Beth has been resurrected, with her parents attempting to keep her resurrection a secret. Zombie Beth gives Zach an opportunity to say and do the things he never would when she was alive, leading Zach to fall in love with her all over again. This of course is short-lived, as Beth's increasingly violent behavior becomes increasingly hard to live with for her loved ones. While Jeff Baena's Life After Death is a certainly a unique concept for a romantic comedy, it never lives up to its promise, delivering a tonally confused film that isn't nearly as funny or heartfelt as it should be. This is a film with tonal identity crisis, never capable of balancing its horror, drama, and comedy elements effectively. Life After Beth tries to create its own form of Zombie mythology - having a fascination with attics and anger issues, but it all is surprisingly uninteresting. Perhaps a big reason for this stems from the simple fact that Life After Beth is surprisingly unfunny, with jokes that are too few and far between to sustain its primary ambitions. Life After Beth is a film attempting to take advantage of Zombie genre popularity, but it never earns it, being a rather drab and uninteresting zombie rom-com. Located just south of the Artic Circle, in the Icelandic town of Husavic, is where the Icelandic Phallological Museum sits. One-of-a-Kind, the Icelandic Phallological Museum is the world's only Penis museum. For over 40 years, Sigurour Hjartarson, the founder and curator, has collected specimens from every mammal he could find, with the one exception being a Human Specimen. Jonah Bekhor & Zach Math's The Final Specimen tells the story of Sigurour's search for this human specimen, capturing the strange journey that involves two intrepid men, both of which want to be the first human donor. Considering the film's subject matter, The Final Member is a strange, almost grotesque film but what makes it so fascinating is the juxtaposition it creates between the stigma of a Penis museum and the compassion and empathy the audience feels for these characters, most prevalently Sigurour. This is a man who used to be a teacher, whose passion and drive to educate is incredibly prevalent throughout the film. The Phallological Museum is something near-and-dear to his heart, his life's work, and the film does a great job at capturing the passion this man has for his work. The Final Member's other interesting aspect is how it explores celebrity and fame, with the potential American donor wanting nothing more than to make his penis the most famous penis in the world. This is a man who even named his penis Elmo, with the Final Member using this man as a way to explore man's obsession with their sexual organs. Comical and surprisingly touching, The Final Member tells one of the most unique stories you're going to see, painting a surprisingly effective portrait of a man's desire to be remembered. Carl Theodor Dreyer's The Parson's Widow is one of the master filmmakers early silent films. The film tells the story of Sofren, who has just finished his religous studies. He and his fiance, Mari, travel to a small Norwegian village where the previous parson has died, hoping that Sofren can be appointed the new parson. The village has two other candidates for the post, but Sofren impresses the villagers with his unique sermon, doing something different, as opposed to the other two candidates who present the same stale method -putting the fear of god into the villagers. Upon his appointment, Sofren discovers an old village tradition - that the widow of the late parson, Dame Margarete, has the right to marry the new parson. Dame Margarete is a very old woman, but Sofren has no choice, hoping that she dies soon so he can get married to his Mari. Carl Theodor Dreyer's The Parson's Widow is a simple yet effective story that is a touching and humorous fable of misunderstanding. Even for one of his first films, Dreyer's pioneer style filmmaking is prevalent, with some of the earliest use of split-screen I've seen and a tone that dances between drama and comedy seemlessly. What stood out to me about The Parson's Widow is the reserved performances, which for the time was very unique. There is no overacting in this film, with Hildur Carlberg's performance of The Parson's Widow being the strongest performance in the film. She portrays a frigid character whose layers are slowly-peeled away, with the narrative revealing a much sadder, haunted woman that is far more like Sofren and Marie than they ever imagined. Touching, sweet, and profound, The Parson's Widow is an early effort from Drey that shows flashes of the great filmmaker he would become. Stretch, a wannabe actor turned limo driver, has fallen on hard times. Recently dumped by his girlfriend for a pro athlete, Stretch finds himself spiraling into drug and gambling addiction. Now clean, Stretch is still struggling to go straight, owing nearly $6,000 dollars to a violent bookie after a botched gambling debt. When the bookie demands the money by midnight, Stretch takes on a job with a crazed billionaire, hoping to get a gigantic tip from the eccentric man. Unbeknownst to Stretch, this man's business practices aren't exactly legal, with the police attempting to track him down due to his dealings with some very dangerous criminals. Joe Carnahan's Stretch is very much in the same vein as his early film Smokin Aces - a absurd, action, comedy that features an wide variety of strange and crazy characters. This is a film that shows little interest in modest storytelling, offering a bombastic, stylistic approach that is a lot of fun from start to finish. Patrick Wilson is well cast as the main protagonist, but it's Chris Pine's eccentric billionaire character that steals the film. Somewhat reminiscent of his batshit crazy performance in Smokin Aces, Pine creates an even more bizarre character who ends up being a very important part of the narrative. Featuring a sharp, albeit stylishly generic dialogue, and a boatload of crazy circumstances and set-pieces, Stretch is without question an entertaining experience but unfortunately all of the film's larger ambitions centered around fate and destiny are half-baked and under-developed. |
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June 2023
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