lamps

My first encounter with Bogdanovich and I could write an entire essay about it. A massively overlooked gem that wonderfully and effectively brings to life a transitional period in American culture, with a format that places it the context of neo-Hollywood and European cinema modernity. At first glance, the film doesn’t have a motivationally tight story and doesn’t follow  a single major goal, but playfully hovers among the characters, focusing on capturing moments, not in a careless or mundane fashion, but through the smallest symbolisms, to reflect about the social changes and the aforementioned transitional period. The anchor is the cinema and arcade in an otherwise boring remote town, run by the ageing Sam, who, in his cowboy outfit and through his life wisdom, represents for the young people (and himself) an echo of old-timey morality, not only in cinema. And indeed, his innocent undressing by a pool with a group of peers at the beginning seems like an embarrassing act, only to later, after the juvenile fascination has shifted from the film screenings to the opposite sex, ignite casual love and moral indifference, with the youngsters, who run away from their parents like in Rebel Without a Cause, as numb witnesses unable to emotionally react to the the murder of an innocent boy, and one of the main characters ending up leaving to fulfil his military duty, confirming the end of the idyllic era of heroes like John Wayne and the onset of the depression and the social crisis of the Vietnam years. The young people don’t know what to expect from life and The Last Picture Show reflects that in a timeless manner, because the future generations will also have to find themselves among the sexual motivations of their time, and also wholesome with regards to the historical cinema references and the perfect portrayal of 1950s America. Cybill Shepherd’s performance is wholesome, too, as the dream of every horny teenager in that sleepy Texan town (or actually, everywhere). 90%

Basically, a flawlessly constructed tale about the search for information and the reconstruction of factual events that always stays a couple of steps ahead of the viewer, holding the tension, even though its outcome is very well known. In addition to the precise dialogues, the performances and the diverse ways of obtaining information, which enclose the protagonists in an increasingly strong outer loop, another captivating thing is its highly progressive style that draws the viewer’s attention to two equally focused planes (most of the scenes in the newsroom combine the personal investigations with news broadcasts and the surrounding noise), or the way it deviates markedly from the characters, highlighting their information overload or the feeling of being followed and in danger. One of the best movies of the 1970s, which, despite its conversational nature, can be rewatched to find new filmmaking pearls.

The peak of depression, directorial creativity and acting mastery, while at the same tame, it irradiates something beautiful and hopeful in an almost poetical way (perhaps thanks to the nice music as an echo of the easygoing sixties). Probably, the most convincing breakdown of the American urban dream and very likely Dustin Hoffman’s best performance, even better than the more psychologically pigeon-holed Rain Main. 90%

A very long showcase of beautiful images and actors that speaks volumes about the historical era it covers and abounds in almost poetic dialogues of considerable depth, but that as a whole only left me again with Claudia Cardinale’s eyes. The first two hours were still interesting, and I was curious about the fate of the characters, but Visconti deals mostly with the era and the manners of the aristocrats, without bothering to let the viewer get close to the characters. The ending didn’t interest me and the last hour was so tiring that I don’t think I will ever give it another chance. 70%

A Vietnamese gangster, a.k.a. a bit of a different kick in the rear to the way America was headed after the WWII, when you could swim in banknotes, but with more or less dirty hands, of course. Fantastically brisk, almost in the style of Scorsese’s best, skilfully put together around the informational and motivational parallelisms between the characters, and shot with a certain text-book aloofness that lets you not only appreciate the story of the protagonist, but also the general narrative and timeless diary of an era, and the links to the social or ideological components. But at the same time, non-stop fun as every proper cop movie. Very well spent three hours. 90%

A reminder of the golden era when buddy comedies didn’t have to be full of vulgar jokes and even managed to transmit a positive life message. If it wasn’t for the tedious middle part, the rating would be higher, if only because Billy Crystal delivers perhaps the best morsel of wisdom about women and sex, which I want to hang, not only on my Facebook wall, but also in my room. Feel-good safe bet for any situation. 70%

As someone with very warm feelings (excessive perhaps) towards the concept of the people hunt, I’m usually exposed to all sorts of evil. Here, after only a few minutes I was already so exposed that I wished it would end as quickly and for the main characters as painlessly as possible. You can’t build a story like this around idiots that are more unlikeable than their killers, while only boringly copying horror tropes without contributing a single original idea. At least the female lead looks good, but nobody thought of allowing her to properly showcase her strengths, which surpass any contributions to filmmaking. It’s boring even despite its adequate runtime and a couple of nasty scenes…

Very nice. While Journey to the Beginning of Time was also characterised by a perfectly paced narrative, Baron Munchausen is mostly a relentless and at times contrived episodic showcase of Zeman’s wonderful visual fantasy, the effect of which may have faded with the years, but the purely cinematic joy combined with the creative movement of the mise-en-scène will never get old. And Kopecký is of course awesome. 75%

The film fools the viewer so well and inconspicuously that is not a problem to accept it and enjoy its proudly professed B-movie nature and obvious horniness – there are moments it pretends to be serious, but it’s only camouflage for outrageous screenwriting nonsense that can never be taken seriously, which is underscored by the ridiculously escalating ending, but personally I didn’t care (Bill Murray’s character, in particular, “kills” it perfectly, while winking mischievously at the viewer). In addition to the excellent male leads, we also have the diva Denise Richards in one of the hottest film roles ever, turning the room of the male viewer into a sauna every time she shows up (but I don’t want to dismiss Neve Campbell, who’s equally attractive). A cult movie for a certain group of viewers.

I came, I lied down, I put on Femme Fatale, I didn’t understand it, and yet I enjoyed every minute, drooling at Rebecca Romijn, and went to bed. De Palma is quite a conman and I’m not sure whether all those homages to cinema and narrative twists and turns made sense this time, but those games are fun, if nothing else. 75%