sambson

This should be lame. From the hackneyed premise, to the pandering execution; it should make me gag. But whether it's the cast putting in that little bit extra, or the better-than-I-imagine-it-is direction, or the writer somehow taking cliched scene after cliched scene in a paint-by-numbers plot - and adding quirky bits that make each rise a bit above the expected.... I like this stupid movie. Against all my instincts; it's a fun film. I think it's prolly Simon Pegg's never ending facial expressions and a pace that doesn't let any scene stink. Mission complete. No one will do better. Stop trying.

I often find experimental film both provocative and meditative. The best of them seem like visual poetry, and Barbara Hammer certainly elicits that for me with this film. For a document about the fragility and hidden natures of the human body; Sanctus is surprisingly delightful. Ms. Hammer finds many engaging ways to make, what is predominantly medical footage, playfully whimsical. When her accentuating color choices are pastel, things like intestinal ballooning procedures take on a practically party atmosphere. Her frequent tilting of images within the frame, overlapping Rorschach-style double exposures, and blending of images and patterns, all lend to a welcome lightness - which juxtaposes with the murkily blurred darker toned images, with bodily fluid reds and yellows, mysteriously shaped presences within the bodies, loaded triggering words ('diagnosis', 'cancer', etc) and the decay of chemically assaulted filmstocks. 'Sanctus' (taken from the title of the accompany sound composition), is a brief look behind the curtain of flesh to the discomforting and surreal world inside.

The laser disc Director's cut is superb. I laughed, I cried, it was great. Annie Potts is more the star of Texasville than Cybill. Things change, move on.

Being a critique of the new Capitalism in Japan, Crowded Streetcar hails from the same subgenre as Masumura's Giants and Toys (1958). Though Giants &Toys is in delightfully garish color, and features kitchy television adverts and a flashy dance number - Crowded Streetcar is by far, the funnier film. To some degree this is due to G&T being a dark and brutally melodramatic satire where everyone is drinking themselves to death as they claw their way to the top; Streetcar is a lighter tongue in cheek parody where none can fit their position in the system as promised by the establishment. The cogs of the machine don't fit. This starts at the very beginning, when the 80 year old school burns to the ground just before graduation, which is then held in the pouring rain. After the school chancellor gives a longwinded and banal speech, a scrambling muddy photographer falls down and screams to hide the umbrellas as he takes the class picture. Our young protagonist seems to heartfeltly regret having to break with his girlfriend (due to his new post-graduate path in life), but then; he gives the same speech to a gum chomping ticket girl who shrugs him off with a smile. And whether the diploma is being threatened to dissolve in the rain, or get left behind, when he's too busy putting on the airs of a man who's on his way up - we quickly understand the questionable worth of this grand education and the promises it's to live up to. Even when the CEO of the bottling company declares a staunch 'no nepotism' policy, he's quitely informed that 10 of the 12 new hires are precisely that. None in this system can escape the false promises. Whether it's when our new graduate's empty room is contrasted with his gracious neighbor's homey pad (only to have this supposedly well-adjusted mentor suddenly drop dead), or the strange situation of whether it's his mother or father who's losing their marbles, or the cut-throat doctor who's only goal was exploiting the situation with father to further his own clinic (who then arrogantly hops skips and jumps himself in front of a bus) - ironies just keep rolling in. The one girl who seemed cut from the same cloth as he, suggests marriage but won't stay through the initial monetary hardship, finds herself in the same unemployment line and discovers she may have married the wrong janitor. And even when he gets that job it's terminated by a principal who questions how it would look to have such a highly educated man in a lowly position. End result? He's pushed even further down the ladder into a hovel. By the end, we've circled right back to another graduation ceremony, this time for kindergartners; who get the same hollow pablum from the master of ceremonies. I must mention one of my favorite moments is when he's crammed into a subway car where an advertisement trumpets the new hotly anticipated movie, "The Crowded Train". Comparisons to silent film comedians is entirely astute, and I myself laughing out loud several times. Crowded Streetcar is well worth the watch.

Ditvoorst believed in cinema as poetry and image - which may go some distance in explaining why his final film is only loosely inspired by the best selling book; The Mother of David S. by Yvonne Keuls. While the author was known for doing extensive research before writing her famous social novels (her literary talent was in working fiction and reality into an almost indiscernible unity), Ditvoorst used the subject of a mother's devastated love for a drug addicted son as a jumping off point into further obsession, control, and a complete slip with reality. In The Mother of David S., Kuels describes a mother who lives a manipulated life, refusing to accept her son's drug addiction before ultimately distance herself from the problem in order to live in normality again. In the film, the manipulation does not stop but instead, flips from the addict son over into the mother's control. The way this plays out (and here come the spoilers), is through her newfound ability to prognosticate. Somehow the realization involves a frazzled homeless oracle character who stares up at the sky. When the ex-stage actress realizes her predictions are coming true, she focuses on the situation with her son, who hasn't spoken to her for 12 years. She sees that the way forward is for her to stage a pseudo suicide, where she readjusts her bicycle's path to intercept an oncoming car. She foretells that this will ultimately bring her son to her bedside, where she can propose her final act, in the form of a mysterious note she gives him in the hospital. His aunt delivers news of the accident, but it's not until a relative (his sister?) who's a sex worker visits, that he heads for the hospital in a stolen taxi. Upon getting the note, he immediately goes cold turkey and leaves his dissolute life (of heroin and painting grotesque creatures) behind for a bizarre doting son role with his injured mother at the family homestead. Inbetween cleaning up and returning, he visits a bathhouse and finds a dead boy on the pavement with yet another mysterious note, "I am always right" (which could be seen as another message from the contolling mother, a warning from the lurking father, or simply a foreshadowing of things to come). In many respects this moment can be seen as the crux of his intimate relationships. This new strange life of caretaking is only interrupted and emphasized by a dominatrix Doctor who visits to check on the mother's condition. He briefly leaves to find several of his old cronies (a 'front desk clerk'/mad sound scientist, his yogi of a drug dealer, etc) have passed away. Even if he wanted to return, his old way of easy living has fallen apart. Meanwhile, the mother finds out that her injuries now require them to amputate her leg, and she returns home unable to find her son. As he sits in the back yard sketching what seems to be the only 'normal' art we ever see him produce (actually a theatrical design to stage the final scene), his mother maniacally crawls up the giant staircase to try finding him. It's at this point that fragments of the past and present involving his vile father occur, resolving with the garroting of said father. Who knows what part he's played in this drama, other than a tyrannically cold hand in raising the boy, but it was necessary for the young man to kill him at some point (it's not apparent if this happens as a flashback before he left to do drugs, or is happening now as part of the mother's plan). The driver who hit her returns to offer flowers and support, but leaves bewildered. The son sets up a dinner by candle light, a bath, a throne of flowers, and Mozart before carrying her to a flower encrusted gazebo (as per his final sketch) featuring a candle-lit bed of flowers. They lie down to share suicide pills, before we finally see the note she gave him detailing her plan with the final line, "I love you too much." The film is interspersed with oddly disturbing poetic images of a taxidermied bird inside a glass ball, eagles soaring, creepily threadbare freeze dried animals, a book of mythical creatures, a beaten baby seal that turns into the son; all which may have other deeper significances - but on the surface certainly show us the psychological state of the young man, if not the actual realities of the world he finds both magnetically attractive and simultaneously repulsive. It's a film about a disturbed man from a disturbed family, who comes home to share an ultimately disturbing end with his mother.

Footnote: Three years later, Ditvoorst took his own life. In 1992 actor Thom Hoffman (protagonist of De Witte Waan) made a documentary about Ditvoorst's life.

I love this series, but then, this kind of anime is my thing. Mushi-shi, Mo No No Ke, Paranoia Agent - definitely my fave themes. The show overall has a nice solid rating, but the episodes are ranked horribly! The five highest ranked episodes out of this entire series rate only 4 stars? Some are 2 stars?? What The?!? That makes no sense. The entire series would rate 3.5/10 stars if these episode rankings were true. Something doesn't tabulate here. IMDB Staff have any ideas?

Fine avant garde film. Call me crazy, but I feel as if Guy Maddin used Emotion as an inspiration for his film, Dracula: Pages from a Virgin's Diary (2002).

Quite well done film. Also one of the top 5 most depressing films I've ever seen. Gaspar Noe wishes he could be this razor sharp austere.

Good Grief! After nearly 3 and a half hours inside the inner workings of Madison Square Garden, it feels like I myself have worked there. Covering every imaginable event under the sun; from Ringling Brothers Circus, Job Fairs, Pro Hockey, Salt & Pepper show rehearsal, Pro Wrestling, Mary J Blige concert, AKC Dog Show, Pro Basketball, NAACP meeting, Women's Pro Boxing, Ice Dancing, Puff Daddy concert, all the way to the Coffee Industry conference, Cat Afficianado conference, Evangelical Church conference and private Jewish Basketball event - one is left with the feeling The Garden never even closes!

All the action of these events are filmed as professionally as any major news outlet would cover them, but with Wiseman's brilliant directorial eye to the people in the stands, the crew on the ground, in the rafters - even the shadows of people and objects that are cast on the floor. As those familiar with this director's work well know, he is the undisputed American master of Cinema Verite. His eye is as unflinching as always for those behind the scenes: the custodians, security officers, prep cooks, concession workers, ticket takers, bathroom attendants, animal handlers, lighting riggers, and even the sports newscaster breaking down in tears over the death of a co-worker. Wiseman sees it all and shows us who we are with his lens.

The majority of those that speak on camera are event managers, heads of security, cat massuers, pep-rallying bible-versed coaches, facility heads, coffee cupping Q-graders, and event promoters. But it is in the shuttered world of the boardrooms that our eyes are opened to how things really run. Reviewing the constant hassle of workers who complain when they're paid late and the way these small gripes sideline management's ability to easily negotiate with unions, or reviewing how the fiasco of ODB and one of Bob Dylan's crew made it through The Garden's "300 pound security goons" (management's words - not mine) to grab mics at The Grammy's reflects on the facility's reputation, or even the manner they prep the security team responsible for each aisle during a Puff Daddy concert (after you just watched a woman explain the history and necessity of the NAACP)... it all informs you of where we are and what we're dealing with. America.

Along with those gems, we find Wiseman is unrivaled in montages of minutea. It's how they fill the beers, how they bag the cotton candy, how they make the catering trays , how they fill the popcorn or cut the pizza, make the snow cones, how they torch and wrap the hockey sticks, even how they prep the refrigerated floor and make the mix of liquid to spray on the ice arena - that fills his films with the taste of real life. It's in the half dozen montages of life outside on the NYC streets surrounding The Garden, the homeless on benches and the final shot of a mist covered city with only the Twin Towers visible - that we are rooted in the culture he documents.

This film is an overwhelming primer on American entertainment and life itself. He knows how to bring you into the arena with the elephants, show you the essence of The Garden, the values of the most vibrant city in the country, the people who slog it out, the entertainments they adore, and how to return to the human cannonball circus finale for the end - all presented without a narrator.

I have watched over 5,000 films in the last 10 years (I didn't keep a list before that). Very few big modern Hollywood products. Deep into art film, auteurs, independents, forgotten, obscure, incredibly weird, philosophical, dreamy, bizarre, classic Golden age, and International out the wazoo. I have yet to encounter a film that triggers so many wonderful things as The Great Beauty. I've had a boxed set of Sorrentino for 2 years. I cannot bring myself to watch the other 4 films, because every time I might - I can't resist another chance to watch this one. Everyone in my family know this fact, anyone in my social media sphere knows it. I speak about it all the time. Thank you #PaoloSorrentino.

Passollini without the brutality. That is to say, provocatively sexual, without the darkest elements overwhelming the stories.

An excellent TV documentary on this topic. A boy as well as a girl, who identify trans, and their respective families; reveal themselves and their thoughts in often deep ways. Nobody is perfect, but their struggle is real. I thought the program was well made and addressed a number of pertinent issues.

This documentary review of the magazines practices and it's contribution to the invention of modern celebrity news is stomach churning. Telling people a documentary is important for them to see, rarely puts butts in the seats, but it's still true. Truth is power. Don't miss this!

I saw the standard 2hr 40min hack job in the theater, and was a bit disappointed. Wings of Desire and other Wenders films had predisposed me to expect a certain level of... philosophical continuity. And this film did not hit the note. Many years later I order a boxed set of Wim Wenders early stuff, and was mistakenly sent the Original 4hr 40Min cut of the film. Although I notified the seller and they offered to refund once I had returned it, I never did get that money back. No, I decided to give the film one more chance at an additional 2 hours in length - and never returned the parcel. At it's Original length, this film makes PERFECT sense! There were no loose ends (other than the expected - existentially unanswerable questions), no odd side stories, in fact; Nothing Extraneous! At it's original 4 1/2+ hour length this film is a masterpiece - while at Butchered Length - a spiritless mess. Don't settle for less than 4:40.

The story probably warrants only 5/10 stars, but the 80's atmosphere is closer to 7/10. I suspect that says more about the cinematographer, than the writer and director. Especially since, the writer IS the director, and the cinematographer went on to do Frankenweenie, Beetlejuice and Jumanji.

The first 4 in the Friday the 13th series deliver solid films. Part 3 is the weakest of that bunch, but all of them achieve their ends. These 4 films are only incrementally better or worse than the others, but of this group, The Final Chapter is the best.

I like filthy comedy, but this is stupid filthy with very little funny.

All the Joe Dancer TV movies feature the titular rather dated detective. Some have overly serious characters (The Big Black Pill), others have goofy characters (The Monkey Mission) and even one with solid characters (Murder 1, Dancer O). The first and third plots are good, while the second film is merely fair. So with the outdated TV movie detective, characters and plots taken into account, each film gets incrementally better over all. That makes this one; Murder 1, Dancer O [aka: The Big Trade] the best of the bunch.

Nice Christmas film with a great Santa, but who wants to rewatch a divorce story every year?

I've seen countless Sherlock Holmes films and television. Doesn't even begin to plumb the depths of anything to do with the original character or stories. This one is only recommended for 10 year olds.

Beautiful but, modernized a bit to it's detriment; and likely to Pearl Buck's grave chagrin.

A thin story, but amazingly executed Sci-Fi effects for it's time!

It will never cease to fascinate me that I am a fan of Nicolas Roeg, but not of one of his most famous films. This movie has failed to impress me on three separate occasions, at different points in my life. I kept hoping it might suddenly 'hit' me, to no avail. Something about it fails to engage my emotions, and I suppose I'll never know what that is. I truly enjoy Walkabout (1971), The Man Who Fell to Earth (1976), Bad Timing (1980), Two Deaths (1995) and even the young adults film The Witches (1990). Each of these has more of an effect than the unengaging atmospherics of this film. So, I've accepted that for me, Don't Look Now (1973) is big on nebulous atmosphere, and small on plot points.

Flat attempt at comedy from a great, but unused cast.

This movie was bad bad. Not good bad. It was so lame, even the MST3K crew could hardly find anything to skewer.