The film is framed as the recollections of Sergeant Galoup, a former French legionnaire stationed in Djibouti (he’s played with a mixture of cruel reserve and vigorous physicality by the great Denis Lavant). Loosely determined by Herman Melville’s 1888 novella “Billy Budd,” the film makes brilliant use on the Benjamin Britten opera that was likewise motivated by Melville’s work, as excerpts from Britten’s opus take on the haunting, nightmarish quality as they’re played over the unsparing training exercises to which Galoup subjects his regiment: A dry swell of shirtless legionnaires standing from the desert with their arms within the air and their eyes closed as if communing with a higher power, or consistently smashing their bodies against just one another in a very series of violent embraces.
Wisely realizing that, despite the generations between them, Jane Austen similarly held great respect for “women’s lives” and managed to craft stories about them that were silly, frothy, funny, and very relatable.
But this drama has even more than the exceptionally unique story that it really is over the surface. Set these guys and the way in which they experience their world and each other, inside of a deeper context.
Established in an affluent Black community in ’60s-era Louisiana, Kasi Lemmons’ 1997 debut begins with a regal artfulness that builds to an experimental gothic crescendo, even as it reverberates with an almost “Rashomon”-like relationship to the subjectivity of truth.
Like many in the best films of its ten years, “Beau Travail” freely shifts between fantasy and reality without stopping to recognize them by name, resulting in a very kind of cinematic hypnosis that audiences had rarely seen deployed with such secret or confidence.
that attracted massive stars (including Robin Williams and Gene Hackman) and made a comedy movie xxnx killing for the box office. Within the surface, it might appear to be loaded with gay stereotypes, but beneath the broad exterior beats a tender heart. It had been riley reid directed by Mike Nichols (
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James Cameron’s 1991 blockbuster (to wit, over half a billion bucks in worldwide returns) is consistently — and rightly — hailed because the best in the sprawling apocalyptic franchise about the need to not misjudge both Arnold Schwarzenegger and Linda Hamilton.
They’re looking for love and intercourse in the last days of disco, at the start of your ’80s, and have to swat away plenty of Stillmanian assholes, like Chris Eigeman to be a drug-addicted club manager who pretends to be gay to dump women without guilt.
The dark has never been darker than it truly is in “Lost Highway.” In reality, “inky” isn’t a strong enough descriptor for the starless desert nights and shadowy corners humming with staticky menace that make Lynch’s first Formal collaboration with novelist Barry Gifford amateur porn (“Wild At Heart”) the most terrifying movie in his filmography. This can be a “ghastly” black. An “antimatter” black. A black where monsters live.
An 188-minute movie without a porntube second out of place, “Magnolia” may be the byproduct of bloodshot egomania; it’s endowed with a wild arrogance that starts from its roots and grows like a tumor until bonga cam God shows up and it feels like they’re just another member on the cast. And thank heavens that someone
More than just a breakneck look inside the porn market since it struggled to receive over the hump of home video, “Boogie Nights” can be a story about a magical valley of misfit toys — action figures, for being specific. All of these horny weirdos have been cast out from their families, all of them are looking for surrogate relatives, and all of them have followed the American Dream towards the same ridiculous place.
This film follows two teen boys, Jia-han and Birdy as they fall in love from the 1980's just after Taiwan lifted its martial regulation. As the country transitions from rigorous authoritarianism to become the most LGBTQ+ friendly country in Asia, the two boys grow and have their love tested.
Time seems to have stood still in this place with its black-and-white Television set set and rotary phone, a couple of lonely pumpjacks groaning outside providing the only noise or movement for miles. (A “Make America Great Again” sticker on the back of the defeat-up vehicle is vaguely amusing but seems gratuitous, and it shakes us from the film’s foggy mood.)