The bulk of “The Boy Behind the Door” finds Bobby sneaking inside and—literally, quite commonly—hiding behind one door or another as he skulks about, trying to find his friend while outwitting his captors. As day turns to night as well as the creaky house grows darker, the administrators and cinematographer Julian Estrada use dramatic streaks of light to illuminate ominous hallways and cramped quarters. They also use silence efficiently, prompting us to hold our breath just like the kids to avoid being found.
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More than anything, what defined the 10 years wasn't just the invariable emergence of unique individual filmmakers, but also the arrival of artists who opened new doors for the endless possibilities of cinematic storytelling. Directors like Claire Denis, Spike Lee, Wong Kar-wai, Jane Campion, Pedro Almodóvar, and Quentin Tarantino became superstars for reinventing cinema on their own terms, while previously established giants like Stanley Kubrick and David Lynch dared to reinvent themselves while the entire world was watching. Many of these greats are still working today, as well as the movies are many of the better for that.
“The top of Evangelion” was ultimately not the top of “Evangelion” (not even close), but that’s only because it allowed the sequence and its creator to zoom out and out and out until they could each see themselves starting over. —DE
On the audio commentary that Terence Davies recorded for your Criterion Collection release of “The Long Working day Closes,” the self-lacerating filmmaker laments his signature loneliness with a devastatingly casual perception of disregard: “Like a repressed homosexual, I’ve always been waiting for my love to come.
Sprint’s elemental course, the non-linear construction of her narrative, as well as sensuous pull of Arthur Jafa’s cinematography Mix to make a rare film of raw hot porn beauty — just one that didn’t ascribe to Hollywood’s notion of Black people or their cinema.
Seen today, steeped in nostalgia to the freedoms of a pre-handover Hong Kong, “Chungking Express” still feels new. The film’s lasting power is especially impressive within the face of such a fast-paced world; a world in which nothing could be more important than a concrete offer from someone willing to share the same future with you — even if that offer is written on a napkin. —DE
The relentless nihilism of Mike Leigh’s “Naked” could be a hard pill to swallow. Well, less a tablet than a glass of acid with rusty blades for ice cubes. David Thewlis, within a breakthrough performance, is on the dark night in the soul en path to the pure mature tip of your world, proselytizing darkness to any poor soul who will listen. But Leigh makes the journey to hell thrilling enough for us to glimpse heaven on just how there, his cattle prod of a film opening with a sharp shock as Johnny (Thewlis) is pictured raping a woman inside a dank Manchester alley before he’s chased off by her family and flees to your crummy corner of east London.
Maybe you love it for the message — the film became a feminist touchstone, showing two lawless women who fight pormo back porh hub against abuse and find freedom in the method.
a crime drama starring Al Pacino as an undercover cop hunting down a serial killer targeting gay Guys.
But Makhmalbaf’s storytelling praxis is so patient and full of temerity that the film outgrows its verité-style portrait and becomes something mythopoetic. Like the allegory on the cave in Plato’s “Republic,” “The Apple” is ultimately an epistemological tale — a timeless parable that distills the wonders of the liberated life. —NW
The thought of Forest Whitaker playing a modern samurai hitman who communicates only by homing pigeon is often a fundamentally delightful prospect, one particular made all the more satisfying by “Ghost Pet” author-director Jim Jarmusch’s utter reverence for his title character, and Whitaker’s motivation to playing the New Jersey mafia assassin with the many pain and gravitas of someone on the center of an historical Greek tragedy.
can be a look into the lives of gay Gentlemen in 1960's New York. Featuring a cast of all openly gay actors, this can be a must see for anyone interested in gay history.
The actual fact that Swedish filmmaker Lukus Moodysson’s “Fucking Åmål” needed to be retitled something as anodyne as “Show Me Love” for its U.S. release can be a perfect testament to the portrait of teenage cruelty and sexuality that still feels more honest grandma porn than the American movie business can handle.