Countless other characters pass out and in of this rare charmer without much fanfare, still thanks on the film’s sly wit and fully lived-in performances they all leave an improbably lasting impression.
But no single aspect of this movie can account for why it congeals into something more than a cute plan done well. There’s a rare alchemy at work here, a particular magic that sparks when Stephen Warbeck’s rollicking score falls like pillow feathers over the sight of a goateed Ben Affleck stage-fighting at the World (“Gentlemen upstage, ladies downstage…”), or when Colin Firth essentially soils himself over Queen Judi Dench, or when Viola declares that she’s discovered “a fresh world” just some short days before she’s compelled to depart for another a single.
Babbit delivers the best of both worlds with a genuine and touching romance that blossoms amidst her wildly entertaining satire. While Megan and Graham tend to be the central love story, the ensemble of try out-hard nerds, queercore punks, and mama’s boys offers a little something for everyone.
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The movie was encouraged by a true story in Iran and stars the actual family members who went through it. Mere days after the news item broke, Makhmalbaf turned her camera within the family and began to record them, directing them to reenact sure scenes determined by a script. The moral inquiries raised by such a technique are complex.
The best in the bunch is “Last Days of Disco,” starring Chloe Sevigny and Kate Beckinsale as two new grads working as junior associates in a publishing house (how romantic to think that was ever seen as such an aspirational career).
“He exists now only in my memory,” Rose said of Jack before sharing her story with Bill Paxton (RIP) and his crew; via the time she reached the end of it, the late Mr. Dawson would be remembered because of the entire world. —DE
“I wasn’t trying to see the future,” Tarr said. “I was just watching my life and showing the world from my point of view. Of course, you can see a great deal of shit permanently; you may see humiliation in the least times; you'll be able to always see a little bit of this destruction. Many of the people can be so Silly, choosing this kind of populist shit. They are destroying themselves and the world — they don't think about their grandchildren.
“Souls don’t die,” repeats the porh hub large title character of this gloriously hand-drawn animated sci-fi tale, as he —not it
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This critically beloved drama was groundbreaking not only for its depiction of gay Black love but for presenting complex, layered Black characters whose struggles don’t revolve around White people and racism. Against all conceivable odds, it triumphed over the conventional Hollywood romance La La Land
Studio fuckery has only grown more discouraging with the vertical integration in the streaming period (just ask Batgirl), although the ‘90s sometimes feels like Hollywood’s last true golden age of hands-on interference; it had been the last time that a Disney subsidiary might greenlight an ultra-violent Western horror-comedy about U.
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David Cronenberg adapting a J.G. Ballard novel about people who get turned on threesome porn by auto crashes was bound to be provocative. “Crash” transcends the label, grinning in perverse delight mainly because it sticks its fingers into a gaping wound. Something similar happens from the backseat of a vehicle in this movie, just one particular within the cavalcade of perversions enacted from the film’s cast of pansexual risk-takers.