rivera66_99

The last half hour of this movie the only things I kept thinking were stuff like "Oh, yes, this actor hasn't had his share of crying, yet", or "Well, the 'gun link' was not supposed to be more meaningful if ultimately, this movie is about show you 'human emotions'"... I don't say that BABEL doesn't have its strenghts. Acting (every single acting scene) is fine; cinematography is spectacular; the beduines story in Marokko is truly tragical and politically instructive - but the WHOLE thing is just too much. After all, Inarritú is aiming at emotional manipulation at all costs, taking everything just as a pretext for that aim. That's why in the end, BABEL for me was just a far too long piece of pieces, a presumptious sort of emotional terrorism. 5/10.

Let's face it: Tennessee Williams was more a very clever and, at his time, fashionable author than a genius. "Descending Orpheus" shows both his cleverness (in creating, for instance, gripping and effective situations) and his inability to reach that "second simplicity" that marks most great pieces of art. Everything is so 'symbolic' here, so predictable even - we don't feel even grief when our 'experimental animals' (Val and the Lady) suddenly die. The badly used music at the end shows us the difference between Lumet's flat pathos and that of, let's say, of Visconti in "Rocco and his brothers", created the same year in Italy. But - and this saves the movie and makes its watching worthwhile despite the story line and presumptious dialogues - we have Magnani here, and we have Brando with very good moments, and we have the astonishing, underrated Joanne Woodward. Watching Magnani and Brando have their duo-scenes together, makes us BELIEVE in passion and torments, and at once, the paper becomes life.

As Highsmith's book does, and unlike Minghella's "Mr. Ripley", this early french version of the thriller is able to tell almost nothing - well, it's true, it tells even LESS than the book, p.g., about Ripley's sexuality - but to suggest, to hint, nonetheless, all the important things. Masterful, is, for instance, the brief sequence where Ripley walks along the fish market, playing with the motive of guilt and justice without any pretention, almost unremarkable. But in first regard this "enigmatism" arises from the performance of Alain Delon, who gives the whole range between complete bewilderness, the incapacity of expressing himself, and the charme of an animal aware of his cruel instincts. And this almost without "acting" in the strongest sense of the word, only due to his appearance.

There is a book by Goethe mentioned in this movie, it's "Wahlverwandschaften", and its appearance is quite meaningful. Because the movie takes a look on human loves and lives that is quite similar to older Goethe's fatalistic world-view in his novel, very far from hope and idealisms. Strength (Moreau's character) and Weakness (Jim) are equal forces of nature, and both conduct us to death. The stoic attitude (Jules) is resignation and, seen this way, it is "weakness" too, but, on the other hand, it seems to be the STRONGEST way, because it means survival. JULES ET JIM, both in its content and in its aesthetics, has an air of antique tragedies, but - and this is more like the German novel - without complain, without crying. That's why it leaves you so "unsatisfied", and that's why it's still disturbing, even today.

I didn't expect such a audacious, profoundly intended film when I went to watch "Heaven". I didn't like "Krieger & Kaiserin" because of its mysticism and exaggerated sentiments. But "Heaven" is much better. In part this is, of course, due to the intense and veracious play of Cate Blanchett. But not only. Already the start is completely innovative and even shocking: This green you see and say: 'But this is little TOO green...' and immediately you become aware that it is, in fact, a Simulation. And this topic - the falsehood of images - becomes a central one of this movie that remembers, in its landscape shootings, Bertolucci's "Stealing Beauty" and so many post-cards and movies and over-used airline-magazines... But it WINS those images again, conquers a new authenticity for them I didn't believe was possible. And, even this way, it doesn't work completely: only as a dream. And the whole movie, or everything that is central in it, remains a dream. The desperation that motivates the main character to commit her crime, is present in this movie in its negative - and the relationship of these two levels makes the movie's quality. Because they don't INFECT each other - the main sin of Kieslowski, the mysticist par excellence -, the whole thing remains PURE, and that it is a kind of answer to another main question that it makes: if purity is still possible.

The first fifteen minutes are brilliant: the idea of confronting death in the old magic way - FORESEEING it - but in the context of a very secular and everydaily situation as the class trip is, is hilarious and all the way until the explosion of the plane has our full participation and tension. But the rest is - crap. No character's development, no exploration in the nature of death, ridiculous 'sinister' episodes like that in the morgue or the 'paranatural' elements in death's 'revenge' - the film doesn't top the level of its boring teen protagonists. The end is the worst part of it. Because of the beginning, I give it a 2 out of 10; otherwise it would have been a complete disaster (1).

I saw this movie first like nine years ago, and I was so deeply impressed that I gave it a *9* when I joined the Movie Database - an unusually high rating because thrillers are not my favorite genre. Furthermore, when I saw it for the second time - afew days ago - I remembered every detail; what a higher compliment can you make to a movie? Although you might say that the topic is - nowadays - a bit 'old-fashioned' - and object that, during the last fifteen minutes, there are some superfluous explanations, you have to admit that every little finger-movement in the film is well-thought, that the moment when Mia Farrow has the first look to her 'baby' is TERRIFIC, that Cassavete's silent metamorphosis during the film is absolutely convincing, that all the acting in its blend of everyday behavior and cruelty is simply perfect - and so is the whole movie. At the second view, it might not make you shiver as at the first time. But you won't find an 'error' nor any tastelessness. (The good taste is something of the time, I guess; despite the differences, Hitchcock has it, too.)

The film could be unbearable because over-pathetic (in the very greek sense of the word) if it hadn't the very special performances of melina Mercouri and Anthony Perkins. The latter gives one of his most convincing performances ever (very subtle & very strong at the time) and the woman, although she's not properly a great actress, gives a show of power and passion that is simply overwhelming. I felt, in many occasions, tented to laugh about the forced 'destiny'-tone of the whole, but every since I finished convinced and shivering with the couple. Pretty admirable little movie.

As always, Fincher proves to be a very innovating, intelligent, risk-loving director. There are many very good moments in this movie, and it is, over long periods, simply thrilling. But this makes the end and its flat morality even more annoying. Fortunately, the disturbing power of the previous sequences is strong enough to let you not COMPLETELY "satisfied", but the INTENTION to satisfy (and calm) you is obvious. The last 10 minutes are a shame, let's face it. In my opinion, "Seven", although or because less ambicious, remains the best of Fincher's three famous movies.

There is a thin line between exploring new fields, and simple trash. "The prophecy" is moving on this line, and it doesn't decide itself for none of both sides. It isn't trash because of the interesting theological question (how can we love god if he is absent?) and the strong appearance of Christopher Walken and Viggo Mortensen; it isn't convincing either because of the non-development of the supposed main character, the unsatisfying end and the absolutely not convincing nexus between celestial and secular business.

I heard so much about this movie before I saw it that I was really disappointed when the time came. The only reason I gave it a 4 out of 10 instead of a worse note, is Robert Downey's excellent job and - yeah, even Geraldine Chaplin's portrait of her insane grandmother. But the rest... how uninspired is everything! Hopkins' fictional character is absolutely pointless and pretentious, the portraits of Chaplin's women are so superficial as the historical content (the FBI in a 30years-permanent paranoic attitude towards the dangerous tramp, huuh...), all the details picked up from Chaplin's autobiography are or unreflected or badly told (p. g. the scene where the mother says: "If you only had brought me a cup of tea" - you DON'T understand this if you haven't read the book, and it loses all is meaning, 'cause there is a mix of guilt, fear and love in the feelings of the boy that is almost lost in the scene and the film)... No, this is not a well-told movie. Apart from the fact that it offers no deeper relection on what it IS to be a comedian or a genius. Boring. The best part is, without the shadow of a doubt, the final part where we have the possibility to see original Chaplin-film-scenes. That, indeed, could be a merit of this movie: it makes you want to watch the true Chaplin.

I think one of the main problems of this film is that it tries to create "fire under ice" by showing a possible counterpart to Erika Kohut's perversion: 'true love' or something like that. This is the purpose of the 'improvement' of Walter Klemmer's character, the only but decisive difference from the book's mainshape. This intent fails, necessarily as I think. The strength of Elfriede Jelinek's terrific novel consisted in his completely negative attitude towards sexuality, almost identifying its point of view with that of Erika - but as the latter was unbearable, too, and obviously sick, the reader had no choice except finding a solution in a complete negation of the space of the piece. Haneke, on the other hand, tries to tell the story didactically: We have to listen to shallow and stupid phrases like: "You are not able to love, Erika", "I won't feel anything" and so on, phrases that EXPLAIN something that was sufficiently SHOWN by Huppert's stunning performance and by the whole plot; while Benoits Klemmer is supposed to be the charming, 'sincere' boy who would do it all right if the piano teacher only let him. So, the whole thing becomes a boring tale about sickness and health, with health as the less convincing part. Possibly, this intelligent director did a mistake in conceiving the topic as a DRAMA instead of a baudelairean POEM; perhaps the problem is deeply generic and it was impossible to make a good movie from DIE KLAVIERSPIELERIN. However, the result is one that will confirm all fans of Mme. Huppert and disappoint the fans of Haneke's cinema.

Musicals have always been sentimentalism of the worst kind, and sentimentality is - don't forget this - "the feeling that cannot go on more" (W. Benjamin). In comparison to the ironic adaptation of the genre that has made Woody Allen, or to the powerful "tragedization" made by Lars von Trier, Baz Luhrmann, as always tasteless and free of esthetic inhibitions, uses the musical to retell unbearable stories: Nicole Kidman is, if we think in Greta Garbo o the verbal portraits of Elonora Duse, an ice-cold and uninteresting "Dame aux camelies", Ewan McGregor's character lacks of any interest - everything lays in the eclectic rodeo of camera, costumes and music. There are some original findings, of course, like the "Roxanne!"-Tango or the Madonna imitations, even the fairy-tale-like Quartier Latin... But of course: one who is going to play with EVERYTHING, necessarily will find some golden eggs. The only thing I wonder about is why all the enthusiasts don't see and FEEL the complete childishness and immaturity, the emptiness of the whole event.

Although I'm not a fan of historical films (because they are necessarily remitted to a dilemma between movie-dramatism and the epical shape of historic flow), I consider the "cut" made by this one interesting and well-reached. First, among the numerous films about the Queen it is the first that takes her EARLY years as a topic, constructing the 'strengthening' as a kind of 'death' of her own humanity - pretty didactic, but with a convincing application of Mozart's Requiem. The life that is supposed to be buried, instead, is painted with colourful pictures and with the help of magnificent actors, above all the amazing Cate Blanchett. Some features of the story seem to remain fragmentary, p.e. Walsingham's character (has this man any conviction? what is the relationship to his young servants? is the murder night also a kind of personal revenge? etc.), but this doesn't put in danger the effectivity of the drama. Apparently, we cannot let history just "in peace" and confer the characters the "eternal rest" they deserve. Well, who cares...

The complained "distance" of this movie is, in my opinion, its strongest virtue. The film doesn't fall in the sentimentalities that other movies with the cancer topic don't avoid; there are no marvellous 'solutions', everything remains 'in the air'. However, it remains a question to discuss if cancer should be a movie-subject AT ALL - people who had it close don't need it (the opposite) and others... I don´t know.

Mercy for this movie! It is not one of the greatest, it doesn't avoid some "kitsch", and is parallelization of nazism and neonazism is more than naiv... I know. But when you have the chance to see one of the most beautiful women ever appeared on a movie screen - Romy Schneider -, and see her accompanied by such a fine french actor as Michel Piccoli is - wouldn't it be foolish to play the severe judge?

... one of Hollywood's favourite blends. Luckily, this is not a Hollywood movie but a french one; luckily, its bitter realism wins over the sweet moving moments in one of the best-acted cinematic love stories ever. Romy Schneider and J.-L. Trintignant give a performance you won't forget even when you have forgotten most details and plot elements of this simple, but convincing film.

Many people will consider this movie esthetically old-fashioned, and they are pretty right to do so; even the acting seems to be from a film of the 50s or 60s, not from a contemporary work. But there is something in the very, very simple construction of the plot that remains moving, still when considers the anachronistic schematism: tradition vs. experiment, home-sweet-home vs. great world, tenderness vs. passion, field work vs. art, etc. - The point is that this story is still tragic. Although very improbable that it could happen, just as this simple, nowadays, as a "model" it preserves certain strength. 6 out of 10.

The movie itself is a pretty correct, but not 100% developed portrait of the "start up"- Generation, psychologically and sociologically not rich enough to justify its length. Its best parts have the absurdity of some Ionesco-plays. But if there exist movies where an actor can make the whole thing worthwhile, then this is one of them. Sean Penn is breathtaking, avoiding no risk in exploring its character (above all, no risk of appearing ridiculous) and giving some tragicomic scenes that you cannot describe - you have to see it! Especially the scene with Meg Ryan in the balcony is a masterpiece worth of - at least - five Oscars and being shown in acting schools as a demonstration.

A question especially uneasy to answer in this case. The plot, of course, is very simple and even trivial: young girl loses her virginity and discovers her father's identity, gaining love and surrendering death (the never understood death of her mother), while her older admirer (Jeremy Irons) who only felt in love once - with her mother - gains love again but death at the same time. This pretty kitschy plot, together with the lack of movement in great part of the film, could make it unbearable. But it results much more ambivalent... First note that you wouldn't think at all you're dealing with a movie from 1996. Actually, when I saw it I had no idea from when it was and I estimated it to be from the late 1970's or early 80's. That has to do, above all, with the ethereal landscape-cinematography, this really magnific beauty of every movement the camera (and Liv Tyler!) make, but with the music, too. When there appears Mozart's clarinette concert, for the first time, while you see the field and the house sleeping "siesta", it can make you cry because of pure beauty you conceive... And there are many moments in this film, where music (timeless and time-switching) and picture make you feel so unsure about the era this film is telling about. "Beauty hurts the heart" says Jean Marais' character once. And actually, it does. The eroticism of this movie, for my taste, was sometimes almost painfully sad and joyful at once. Difficult to describe. Between, there are many occasions where you can find the vulgarity of the story just repelling, but then comes such a vigorous sequence again... It reminds me of some of the last Rohmer movies, in some respect, although it is much warmer and not that boring. (Rohmer's coolness, nevertheless, prevails him for falling in kitsch, something that Bertolucci doesn't avoid.) The movie, in some precious moments, does exactly do what its title promises: it steals pieces of beauty from this incredible world - but it has few awareness of it. Its explicitly "deep" parts are too immature and presumptious, but its superficiality contents a profoundness that convinced me. As a piece of art, I have to consider this movie too superficial, as a piece of " just feeling" (a word that I normally hate), I cannot let to like it. 6 of 10.

Instructive to see like such a time-bound film like ANNIE HALL preserves its "timelessness". 25 years after its rising, its 'technical' experiments (cross over of different pictures in one scene, abolishment of the "fourth wall", using of different genres like cartoon, etc.) are as funny as they might have been in 1977, because they are FUNCTIONAL and presumptiousless. The story reveals the very melancholic heart of its director, turning from jokes and sarcasm to tears and questions. Well-equilibrated, well-acted: a "modern classic" in the full sense of the word!

Pretty conventional story - seven fugitives and their destinies after they escape. Settled in the Argentina of 1928, which is prettily but superficially painted. The way of telling the stories is a bit "a la italiana", with too many time turns: in the jail - after the jail - in the jail - before the jail... Pretty confusing, sometimes. Music is overapplied and often disturbing (or excellent, like in the "Casta Diva"-Sequence of the unwilling murder). But all the details that make this movie "not a great one" are forgettable because of the SUPERB cast: anyone of the actors and actresses gives a socially and psychologically stunning performance, with this "surplus" of lust that reveals again, in every of its moments, that acting is a joyful kind of play and ART. It made me feel very happy when I saw it, and I retained the feeling even hours after I left the cinema. What else can you expect?

Unfortunately, this movie lacks any subtlety in handling its main character. While in the book (and even in the French 1960-version) Ripley is the great enigma of 'emptiness', the 'man without character' and, therefore, one of the most interesting criminals in literature history (a more satiric version, perhaps, of Camus's "Stranger"), the character that offer us Minghella and the (miscast) Matt Damon is a simple immature, over-timid homosexual, who would be a nice guy if he was 'identical' with himself. "If you feel something, be consequent with it; if not, you will cause harm to others and to yourself" - that seems to be the flat morality of this in other aspects still brilliant movie. Brilliant, because it shows a BEAUTIFUL camera work and is able to preserve enough thrilling moments from Highsmith's novel to keep us 'breathless', sometimes. Nevertheless, I found the very handsome and charismatic Jude Law the much more 'unsettling' character than Matt Damon's Ripley, HE really has a indifference and coldness that is as 'profoundly superficial' as I expected (in vain) Matt Damon to be. In this respect, the cast is of course better than in the French movie where Alain Delon gives a stunning performance but without convincing that he aspires to be the OTHER, aspect that becomes completely clear under this constellation. - 5 out of 10.

This question is answered with all the clarity and vulgarity we are used to see in contemporary mainstream cinema: The genius is something that comes directly from the intestines, that is to say the stronger this organ the stronger the "muse". Translation between both levels is pretty direct: the poet transfers his feelings in verses, without any considerable modification, and the better we know the life the better we understand the work. Too bad that this movie is historically so very unprecise, and that it omits the (if we are talking about Shakespeare's "love"!) crucial fact of the master's bisexuality. - Other circumstances as Fiennes' completely exaggerated play and the absence of any true humor make this opus one of the poorest we've seen in the last five years.

First half hour is pretty entertaining. Virtuous cuts, funny acting, strange characters, self-ironic humor, etc. But then: nothing. The story doesn't make any sense (apart from the fact that, in a certain sense, "good" or perhaps "harmless" people "win" the game while "evil" die until the last). The cruelty and "fashionization" of violence á la PULP FICTION is boring and disgusting but apparently still "trendy" enough to make teens vote like they do in this database. Of course, this movie has its style. Its, in the confines of its own playing rules, very consequent and well-made. But: couldn't we play instead, with the same mental profit but less artistic presumption, play a simple video game? Vote 5 of 10.