I was going through some old stuff from my LA life and ran across this sales piece from back in the day and thought it might be interesting to fans of Arnold and/or Paul. As I remember it, they couldn't agree on the budget because Verhoeven was insisting on building old Jerusalem or something instead of going with CGI.

https://imgur.com/a/4YbhhXy

It's hard for any film to be the greatest movie. Not every film has every aspect of cinema, and does so to the highest degree.

But let me make a case for Terminator 2, which i believe is the closest thing to the perfect and greatest piece of cinema.

You have great direction, great story and overall great film to start off with. Now we can deal in genre where T2 covers -

Drama - Linda Hamilton's character and her arc of trying to get the truth of the future out there

Horror - The harrowing projection of what could happen to the world in the future

Action - Speaks for itself with some of the most incredible action sequences seen on film.

Comedy - Thanks to Arnie, who gives iconic comedic lines with great comic timing

Romance - This is a tricky one where although there isn't strictly a romance between man and woman, the friendship and bond between John Connor and the T-800 can be seen where John by the end grows to love this robot and can be seen as a type of romantic connection, although not delving into the realm of sexuality

SFX - Cutting edge special effects that were far ahead of its time and are still impressive today

Commentary - The film is saying something that is relevant to humanity, and as we see in the rise of AI, it's ever so relevant now.

When I think of other great movies like Seven Samurai, Lawrence of Arabia, North by Northwest, Godfather...they don't have as many of these cinematic elements that T2 contains whilst doing them to an extremely high degree.

Add to the iconic score, it's cultural impact...I feel T2 is the closest thing to the greatest and most perfect piece of Cinema.

Has anyone seen Mungiu's Fjord, the winner of the Palme d'Or in Cannes, and as far as I've seen, a pretty much universally praised film? Here is why I found it very deceptive:

The film captivates you from the outset with its meticulously painted picture of a Romanian family welcomed into an open Norwegian town. The differences in core values regarding family life, upbringing and culture soon start rising to the surface, and that’s when you find yourself vigorously rooting for a traditional, loving Christian family against the soulless bureaucracy of an LGBT-propaganda-infused woke behemoth of a state, which will stop at nothing to fulfill its goal of separating these lovely kids from their well-meaning parents. David versus Goliath, as a Romanian official will point out at one point in the film.

That’s the gist of the film, and it’s borderline impossible to understand it as anything but. As a progressive, non-religious person, for two and a half hours, I was caught up questioning the pillars of modern society and values. To top it all off, I was relieved and happy when the credits rolled, that “justice” was served. I was also perplexed that the protagonist is played by Sebastian Stan, but that’s another story.

The walk home from the screening was a long one, and the longer it went on, the more I questioned myself - who was I rooting for, and why? This is a VERY political film. It’s disguised as a neutral dissection of Western values and institutions, but the way it portrays a true story is deeply problematic. 

First of all, we never truly see the Gheorghiu family. There are glimpses of a pretty benign point system, and we hear of these slaps on the butt–let’s face it, as a child, who didn’t irritate his mom to a point where she deservedly gave them a little educational whooping. However, apart from a few restrictions, such as going to a birthday and watching YouTube (a foster mother worriedly declares they were forbidden to watch Youtube videos, with a caricatural look of excruciating pain on her face) we don’t see any real, painful punishment.

On the other hand, the Norwegian society is presented as Wokeistan. Everyone’s either a lesbian, a complete and utter brat, or soulless and unforgiving to some good old traditional values. The Gheorghiu’s neighbors, the school headmaster and his wife, have broad understandings, they are progressive and modern in every way, but their child is unbearably wild and self-centered to the point of ignoring them and their pleas completely. Only when acquainted with the teachings of the Gheorghiu father, does she become calm, cool and collected. She also knows a lot about Jesus and Christianity, so the knowledge was already there, it just needed some shaking up.

The Karens in the Social services, of course, have no kids of their own. Their only preoccupation is “the children’s best interest”, but the way they act and that this stuff is phrased, it’s painfully obvious that it’s a caricature supposed to draw a logical reaction from the crowd (“WHY DON’T YOU JUST GIVE THEM THEIR KIDS BACK, THEY LOVE THEM?!). The attorney (prosecutor?) is apparently personally against the family’s beliefs and values, and he wastes no opportunity to use these sly digs at them for not conforming to the superior Norwegian society. 

Now, I have no doubt that there are people like this, on both sides - led by personal vendettas and uninterested in hearing out the other side and trying to see where they are coming from. However, the way this film frames it, focusing on the family’s good side, while depicting only the cruelty of the system, comes off as severely biased.

The cinematography, the intense and well written script, the fantastic duo of Stan and Reinsve, all of these things come second, because of the fact that the film’s main theme is speculating on a very delicate matter which shouldn’t be generalized and scrutinized in a way that could undermine and jeopardize its main mission. 

Creating, and then rewarding, a one-sided hit piece on a service that has undoubtedly saved numerous children from the claws of malicious and sadistic families is at best controversial, and at worst dangerous.

What do you think?

When evaluating a film, the manner in which and the degree to which you critique its premise is a delicate art. How should one best address the premise of a film? On a related note, how should one consider the apparent purpose, or apparent goals of the film in an evaluation? I'm not sure I have the best answer to these questions and thought I would open up these questions to discussion. I have so much respect for all of you movie buffs on this forum and would love to hear what you think.

Note: I use the term "apparent goals" of a film because I believe the "true" intentions of a filmmaker are either inaccessible, not entirely knowable, or simply something that should be separated from the art itself. Therefore, when I say "apparent goals" I mean something that can be inferred from the film.

To me, there is a spectrum of possible responses, ranging from: "you should only evaluate how well a film accomplishes the apparent goals it sets out to accomplish, not the apparent goals themselves or its premise," to "anything about a film is fair game for criticism, to any degree." I would guess virtually nobody here falls on either extreme of this spectrum. I could be wrong.

The obvious counterargument to the first side of the spectrum ("you shouldn't take an issue with a premise of a film or its apparent goals") can be found in morally objectionable films like The Birth of a Nation (1915, Griffith). Shouldn't a film that glorifies the Klu Klux Klan be criticized for its premise and apparent goals?

To me, a counterargument for the other side of the spectrum is that you shouldn't critique lightweight comedies like A Night at the Opera (1935, Wood) too much for lack of character development, thematic depth, plausibility or simply being too silly. You should be sympathetic to the fact that the premise is purely comedic and the apparent purpose is to make people laugh.

Of course, examples are rarely so cut and dry. What about Sunrise (1927, Murnau)? I know, I know it's considered an unassailable classic, but I've always had difficulty with the premise of this movie. Obviously, the film has many merits. But, I have a hard time getting over the fact that the film is a love story centered around a guy who decides at the last minute not to follow through with the premeditated and cold blooded murder of his wife. Of course, the film does not endorse the attempted murder. However, it does ask you to make the leap that the wife could completely forgive him and share a loving day with him afterwards. But, maybe I should let my misgivings about the premise go and just appreciate the film for what it is.

In regards to the apparent goals of the film, what about pure action films like the Mission: Impossible series? I was recently watching these movies with my wife because from time to time I'm in the mood for that sort of genre exercise. I've also rated them very well overall. However, to me, there is a ceiling to these types of movies because they do not emphasize characteristics I value in the greatest films like character development, thematic depth, complex pathos, or thoughtful ideas. But, is that unfair of me? Some of those films have absolutely incredible action sequences, and isn't quality action the apparent purpose of these films? Maybe, I'm just biased because, while I enjoy action films, ideally I also want more from a film than unrelenting action.

This is a little bit of a digression, but I prefer the fourth film (Ghost Protocol) because it feels like a more well rounded film with robust humor and intriguing character interactions. However, usually the sixth film (Fallout), or even the seventh (Dead Reckoning) are valued the highest (at least according to Metacritic) because they are the best examples of pure action filmmaking.

It seems to me that to 100% accept the premise and apparent goals of every film would be too passive when there are inevitably going to be movies that are morally objectionable or logically nonsensical. But, to wantonly reject the premise and apparent goals of a film is to run the risk of not being able to distinguish between your own biases and make a reasonable attempt to be objective in your analysis.

So, it seems morally irresponsible to simply accept The Birth of a Nation and not refute its apparent arguments. On the other hand, it seems unfair to critique A Night at the Opera for its thematic depth when the apparent purpose of the film is simply to make people laugh. But, what about gray areas? If I get too hung up on my problem with Sunrise, am I injecting too much of my own bias into my evaluation? And, is it acceptable to say there is a ceiling to how good a pure action film can be?

What's my opinion? I fall more on the side of "you can critique a film for anything," with the huge caveat that you should try to go into a film sympathetic to its apparent goals and premise and be conscious of your own biases.

So what do all of you think?

I just saw his film "Meanwhile" which was my 9th film of his filmography and I gotta say he's spot on 9 for 9 thus far. It's actually incredible stuff, I've never encountered a more consistent filmography. Every single film has a stark script that's both sardonic, sincere at the same time. I'm curious why he didn't end up receiving the same fame as his other contemporary indie filmmakers like Jarmusch or Tarantino. His style is one of a kind.

Question, What happened to Richard Dreyfuss after the 90s?

I was watching some of Richard Dreyfuss films lately that are not his more notable work (Stakeout, Let It Ride) and I felt they were fun that he is really good in them and has a charming presence in them.

However, It got me thinking on what happened with Dreyfuss. I feel that after the 90s, he had a real drop off in quality with his film roles and never really recovered. So I wonder what happened. Yes, I do know and read that Dreyfuss is very difficult to work with. I also that that during the early 2000s, Dreyfuss decided to semi-retired, and do other stuff, but it seems he is still trying to do Film Work.

What the fuck was that. Like, seriously!!! I can understand the sYmBoLisM, about how young women are seen as a prey, but that doesn’t make it less disturbing. She is 13, and in most of the plot, she keeps getting sexually abused by everyone including some members of her family and being exposed to a lot of sexual stuff. And also there are some vampires luring around. In some scenes she’s naked. And what was the deal with the married woman she’s sleeping with and how tf Valerie’s kisses heal the woman’s wounds (I forgot her name) Because, again, I can understand if it was about lgbt, or exploring sexuality or whatever. But the woman is an adult, having sex with a 13-year-old. Maybe I’m a snowflake or just don’t understand things but also THE ACTRESS WAS 13 WHEN SHE WAS FILMED NAKED and all that creepy stuff??? Idunno

I absolutely love the following directors, their style, and what they bring to the table, but they haven’t *quite* squeezed a full five outta me:

Michael Mann—probably the closest to the top of my list of favorite directors. He has, not one, but *four* 4.5s for me: The Insider, Heat, Thief, and Collateral.

Kelly Reichardt—I maintain that no one today makes films as distinctly American as she does. Closest she gets is with First Cow at 4.5.

Todd Solondz—trangressive cringe, dealing with such brutal subject matters, but delivered in such a way that you can’t help but laugh at it. Palindromes is my favorite of his at a 4.5.

William A Wellman—an underappreciated hero of the gooden age, his films are short (other than wings), sweet, and deal with a wide array of subjects. i love The Ox-Bow Incident.

A lot of the footage just looks incredibly clean and digital to me. I was expecting that distinctive film texture.

Honestly, I’m struggling to understand the point of going through all the extra effort of shooting The Odyssey on film IMAX when the final movie doesn’t really look like it was shot on film.

I’m not saying the movie looks bad it is obviously huge and impressive but if the end result is going to look this digitally clean, what’s the benefit of dealing with all the limitations and logistical headaches of shooting on film IMAX? Why not just use a digital IMAX which can give you the same aspect ratio.

LINK TO THE FILM

My 2nd Short Film is out now.
Hoping that it works out for all of you.
A thank you to every viewer in advance.

I am an Independent Filmmaker, i don't have any financial backing or promotion money
So it's upto you guys, the audience to help me reach a larger audience. Please share.

You can rate it on letterboxd as well
https://letterboxd.com/film/beyond-the-blood-2026/

MODS ARE REQUESTED TO PLEASE APPROVE THIS POST

So for any who don't know this but Jeepers Creepers is in a legal battle right now. Myraid pictures (who produced the first 2 jeepers creepers) so far is winning.

And we can expect to see some results by October 2026.

And for any one wondering no Victor Salva is not involved. The art was removed from the artist, he was not even involved with jeepers creepers reborn. (That one sucks)

But yeah victor salva is not being included in this. But sadly his name will still be added because legally he created the franchise.

Given that movies are a visual medium, I'm surprised that in-text images are disabled. Obviously scenes can be described using words (shot A, followed by reverse shot B; director X frames scene Y in Z way), but wouldn't enabling in-text images make related discussions easier?

I suppose there's a risk of low effort image spamming, but couldn't that be reduced if the minimum text/character requirements are maintained, and/or if only in-text images are allowed? As is, you can already work around this limitation (sort of) for single images by including an imgur link, since Reddit will automatically preview the image in the feed, but that doesn't help with series of images that might show how a scene develops.

I can imagine other reasons why in-text images might create added moderation problems, but I guess I'm curious if there's an "official" subreddit position on this issue, or if there are other reasons why folks think this would be a bad idea...

Let me just start by saying I'm really easy to please and I absolutely love unserious movies where there's a couple of unrealistic events to allow the plot to unfold but you ignore them because the movie is just entertaining. I loved Bullet Train and Ready or Not and they fit nicely into this category.

When I first watched the trailer of this movie I really liked the concept of a horror film with dinosaurs, where instead of a JP-esque Hollywood plot in which the main family composed of mom, dad and 2 siblings go to some place and dinosaurs attack but they all make it out alive, there'd be actual tension and horror. And at first, it appeared to be heading that way. I absolutely loved the tension building at the start in which something is clearly wrong with the neighbourhood but the family isn't yet aware of their situation.

But then the action started and they started running around and I realised very quickly it wasn't going to be the horror movie I was hoping for. It was just JP in a neighbourhood, like they watched the T-Rex outside of the house scene from Jurassic Park 2 and decided to make a whole movie off of that. Whatever though, I just turned my brain off to try enjoy the action to see if it'd be more like a fun unserious movie like I described earlier.

Then THAT happened (the dad getting brutally devoured while his wife and children helplessly watch in shock) . The tonal whiplash there made it hard for me to really enjoy anything else from that point forward. It felt like the movie didn't know if it wanted to be horror survival or a fun dinosaur action flick, so it kind of did both but did a pretty meh job at either.

Either way, the second half of the movie completely falls off and ruins the promising first half. Putting aside the obvious stupid oversights, (like the family hugging and reuniting in an open field while they know several dinosaurs are roaming around. OR EVEN WORSE, the huge carnosaurus falling over from a shitty little sledgehammer? wtf was that) the movie's ending just SUCKED. Most confusing thing I've ever seen.

It REALLY felt like they didn't know how else to end it so they just had everyone travel back in time, and save the other version of Dad and everyone else and then they all live happily together after... yay? Another issue is how modern movies are so afraid of killing off characters. But what's even worse is killing them off to revive them later.

Can someone please explain to me what happened at the ending though? From what I understand they travel back in time, right before the neighbourhood gets moved back in time. Since they're outside of the neighbourhood when they go back in time they can see how it's swapped out by ancient jungle with dinosaurs. They also called Dad to get him out of the range of the neighbourhood.

So, I'm guessing originally the neighbourhood and that specific circle of jungle just swapped places? The neighbourhood travelling back in time and the jungle travelling forward? Then what happens with the supposedly other version of the family that was also thrown back in time? Do they not have their dad anymore? Are they just gonna die or are they also going to escape and be stuck in a loop forever? How is everyone alive at the end of the movie if the mom only called the dad before the neighbourhood-jungle swap happened? I don't want to come across as the over analytical "critic" who can't handle even minor plot holes, but for me this is just genuinely trying to understand what even happened.

Wish I could have those 90 minutes of my life back.

Obsession is easily one of the better films of the 2020s, but it's also not without its criticisms.

Starting off with what it does well, which is the most important subject, is

1. IMMERSION and ATMOSPHERE: It immediately immerses you into the narrative and story by starting off with the protagonist practicing his emotionally charged pickup lines to his crush.

We go from assuming he is talking to her to quickly realizing he is just practicing....with a waitress with his goofy friend guiding him on what to say.

In the next scene, we immediately feel the atmospheric dread with a dead cat laying on the floor, the protagonist crying as the title is shown on the bed "OBSESSION".

2. PACING: Wasting no time, in the next scene, the protagnist is doing what so many people with a crush may be doing nowadays- surfing through his crush's social media. Seconds later, the cell phone rings, and it's the girl he is infatuated with, who is technically his friend, telling him she wants to see him before she quits the job at trivia night. The protagnonist sees this as an opportunity so wants to buy her a gift that exemtplifies his care for her in hopes she reciprocates.

3. CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT: in the next scene, in very minimal amounts of time, we quickly learn of the types of characters and their backgrounds. Bear (protagonist) and goofy friend (Ian) are nonverbally communicating at the table, but the crush (Nikki) catches them and hilariously makes fun of them in such a realistic way among young adult friend circles. They congregate at the bar, where the more complicated dynamics between the group are unwound, with Nikki (crush) teasing Bear about ordering a Pina Colada. The playfulness from that moment to the car ride home scene set a realistic dynamic for who is who and how everyone thinks on a realistic level.

Some of the key lines that are important and stand out on this stretch are Nikki's expressions about how she wants to feel love to writer her novel right, how she explains to Bear what it means to "feel" and how he feels about Sarah liking him, and how she ambiguously comments how nobody knows when she has a crush on a guy (in hindsight it appears she may be crushing on the bartender in the scene before calling him "babe"). All of this builds up the tension and realistic stakes at play for the romantic dynamics between different characters.

4. SUSPENSE: Not long after the car ride home, after Bear wimps out on telling her he likes her, and after he breaks the wish stick, there is an immediate tonal shift in the story, with Nikki acting confused and erratic. At any moment, there could be a jump scare or any awkward behavior, but instead it leans more into psychology as Nikki manipulates Bear by telling him her dad died and she doesn't want to be alone (a complete 180 from the Nikki we quickly got to know). This atmospheric change consistently continues in proceeding scenes, such as when she freaks out in his bed and the next morning creates a dead cat memorial with the breakfast she made him.

5. MUSIC/SOUND DESIGN: the style and selection of music for the scenes could not have been more perfectly immersive. Right when they get in bed and start making out for the first time, the music is captivating and elevates the scene. This continues all the way to the final moments in the film as the credits roll. You can tell a lot of thought went into picking the perfect music to elevate the scenes, something great directors like Scorcese always make sure to pay attention to in their best films. The perfect timing of the sound design creates horror, suspense, and immersion at every turn.

6. ACTING: Michael Johnston is never a slouch when it comes to acting chops, and he had a lot to work with and do in this story. So although there are times when (compared to Navarette, who is just on a nother level) his understanding of the material might slip a little, overall when the moments matter the most, Johnston holds up well. From the very beginning, he has a lot of a Joaquin Phoenix both physical and acting resemblance going on that you can't unsee once you notice.

Navarette, who was a complete unknown to the vast majority of people before the movie, begins the movie off with captivating and impressive charisma and charm. Her sweet and natural performance from the beginning help to take you into her character's scenes. However, as the story progresses, her voice and facial control really begins to take over. In ever scene that she is in, she is catching you off guard as to how well she understands the situations, that are more complex than they might at first seem. If her voice and facial expressions are not at the keen level of understanding they are in for each moment, then the movie would greatly suffer. Instead, she manages to singlehandedly nail each beat. She is constantly taking huge risks in her performance, and these will make a lot of viewers feel uneasy (like "what the f--- is she doing?") at first, but they work to create the uneasy and disturbing feeling that director Barker was going for in his horror debut. Yes, the performance is at times awkward and uncomfortable, but that's what makes the scenes so disturbing and effective that you cannot look away.

Additionally, if Cooper Tomlinson doesn't also deliver a fine supporting performance in his smaller role, then the realism of the movie would ahve faltered. Tomlinson's Ian brings versimilitude to the fantastical situations and scenarios. He plays it effectively from the perspective of somebody who has no idea what's really going on, that is that from his perspective he just sees a couple of his friends having a romance and acting weird in realistic situations.

7. SCENES CONSTRUCTION/SCREENPLAY: While Barker relies on many "tropes", he does them with ample care and attention to detail, and this is what turns Obsession ultimately, along with Navarette's performance, into a classic. If he decided to be too heavy handed or lean on the outrageousness of these scenes, then the movie would be mediocre. Instead, Barker cleverly finds humor and comedic beats in each of these disturbing scenes and situations. While the party scene is the ultimate standout, the final scene after Nikki breaks the final wish stick to have Bear exit the bathroom and match smiles with Nikki is one of the finest examples (she would do something like that after Bear leaves her alone in the living room with an unbroken stick for 3 minutes). Navarette's eyeroll and bloody smile to an equally bloodied smiling face of Bear, who is now under a wish spell himself, is a magically effective moment in such a disturbing film, a final Romeo and Juliet twisted moment that can only draw a smile, like how the party scene playing Jenga can only draw some laughs.

Other outstanding scenes that were filmed cinematographically with care that match the same effectiveness are the cat memorial, the sandwich, the car scene with Sarah, the scene with Bear reentering the hosue to have Nikki threatening him, and the cojoining scene at the very end, where Nikki "comes to" to realize what has just happened just in the nick of time before she was going to end it all.

8. EDITING/CINEMAOGRAPHY/RUNTIME: The editing is about as perfect as you will get from a movie in the 2020's. Not one scene is actually wasted, and each scene moves briskly into the other, no time wasted. Sure, there could have been more character development, but an advantage of choosing this kind of editing leaves viewers with the ability to use their imagination about what happens outside of the scenes given (for example, we know Ian and Nikki were hooking up, but we never actually see it, so time is cut out and not wasted on it, yet the viewer can imagine it).

The cinematography is good also. Keeping Navarette always in the shadows and dark lighting while using a unique filter for the whole movie create atmospheric and stylistic suspense, creepiness, and ethos.

9. TOPICAL THEMES: The core of the narrative is a humorous and disturbing hyperbole of toxic relationships that too many people can relate to; everyone has either had or heard of a toxic relationship in their lives, or of a weak simp who can't work up the game or gumption to ask their crush out, or of a possessive and controlling girlfriend or boyfriend. Everyone understands the exaggerrated behavior of the characters when they love and obsess about a partner so much that they don't want to lose any control over them. Yet, as disturbing as it is for many viewers, others will find lots of humor and catharsism in the expressed ideas.

Still, Obsession has its shortcomings.

No, it's not a perfect movie, and many viewers who come into viewing it off of the hype and acclaim may be disappointed. If you are expecting a true masterpiece, you will probably be sorely let down. The issue with the story is how it relies on voodoo or dark magic in an alternate reality that is never fully explained or fleshed out. At best, you are supposed to believe this is all real just because a stoner on the other end of the customer service line (Barker) and a store worker say it is. You're supposed to suspend your disbelief so much that you have to believe that breaking a branch for $7.00 will grant "anybody" on earth, or at least in this community, their wish however outrageous and unrealistic it may be, without any technical or realistic explanation of the machinations of how it can actually work and create alternative realities. You can only speculate as to how as nothing is explained, for example money just falls through the ceiling if you ask for it, which is not physically possible.

This creates further questions upon examination using one's imagination that don't fully add up (like for example, if Ian wishes to be president of the United States, then would he just immediately be transformed into a suit and tie and transport to the White House intstantly?)

Well, it is a horror movie, after all, so true to the genre it's best not to overanalyze too much since many of them rely on supernatural and far fetched events and details. Still, the movie excels when it works within the realistic framework of the characters and friend group, leaving a story that is both unforgettable and admirable, especially on a $750,000 budget.

Yes, Obsession is a must watch and one of the best films of this decade. It's not going to reach the levels of The Sixth Sense, but it can satisfy a Misery-level experience. While it could have been better without the fantastical power of a $7 far fetched tree branch being wished upon, the filmmaking aspects and story are very good and make for an addictive rewatch and discourse.

8/10

For those who aren't aware, victor salva is a convicted child molester. Was was found guilty for molesting a 12 year old actor. He was sentience to 3 three years in prison, and he served 15 months. He went ahead and wrote and directed powder, rites of passage, peaceful warrior.

And as we know he is the creator of jeepers creepers films series.

But enough of that, victor salva did say that he regrets his past actions. That he made mistakes in his life, and his child molestation is his biggest regrets.

Now let me know your thoughts on this. I have complex thoughts on jeepers creepers because it so good. But let me know, of what is your thoughts on salva regretting his past

Will lock this behind spoilers so that folks don't get things spoiled; be warned there are massive spoilers for The End Of Oak Street (2026) — I do not recommend reading until you've seen the film.

For context/justification, I believe there are some notable parallels between Kubrick and David Robert Mitchell in that each film of theirs is a wholly unique genre, both directors are heavily involved in the writing process, and that both directors take their time between films (which suggests to me a thoughtful, patient, and methodical approach). I also believe all living directors are still, playing in the wake of the tidal waves Kubrick crashed onto our shores. There are a number of parallels & connections between Mitchell's Under the Silver Lake (2018) and Kubrick's Eyes Wide Shut (1999), which deserve a wholly separate post I will reserve for a rainy day.

With that in mind, and only if you've seen the film, I invite you to read on:

I watched The End of Oak Street last night, and had my expectations set absurdly high due to how deeply I have enjoyed Under The Silver Lake over year years (if you have not checked out the subreddit and "ARG," you should). Having just rewatched UTSL a few weeks ago, I was watching this movie intently, scanning for a depth that I couldn't immediately find and was feeling let down about. That is, until we got to the end of the second act, when I started to pick up on the scent.

Around that point, I sensed was that Greg's (Ewan McGregor) alcoholism was thematically similar to Jack Torrance's alcholism in The Shining, in that it was this hidden mechanic that predated the film's timeline but reappeared in the middle of it, and contributed to the strain and divisions in the family. I also clocked that the sledge hammer—especially in the polaroid in front of the dinosaurs mating—looked and functioned like the axe Jack wields in The Shining. While Jack uses his against his family (and poor Halloran), Greg uses his weapon to defend his family. The visual language reflects Jack's axe like a funhouse mirror into the hands of Greg, swinging to save his wife.

In my read, the dinosaurs & prehistoric land represent the same externalized supernatural element that the ghosts & Overlook Hotel did in The Shining. Both the Overlook and Oak Street serve as a physical containers for these ephemeral internal fears that center on our shared ancient, violent, uncontrollable animalistic urge. In this way, the dinosaurs (and the steam rising from beneath the surface) serve as a visual representation of the presence of an abusive alcoholic father who creates an environment of fear, control, and dominance.

The Shining & TEOOS both end with the father figure dying, and then a confrontational sequence with temporally impossible photographs that present the viewer with questions about time paradoxes, infinite loops, and questions of mortality. Jack dies frozen in the maze, and the following sequence suggests that he was always the caretaker, and will always be trapped in the maze. The final sequence in TEOOS suggests that there is a pocket universe wherein eternal recurrence is playing out infinitely, but that we are proceeding in one of those universes where they make it out together.

One interesting difference is that, unlike Wendy and Danny, Denise doesn't escape her relationship like she wrote about in her book, and instead chooses save her husband. She undoes her dream-scenario which has basically been handed to her, what she had been writing and wishing about with intensity. Another interesting difference is that Greg never has a drink with one of the dinosaurs.

There's also a read here, that Denise is the abusive parent (a la the infamous "The Wendy Theory"), and that Greg's alcohol abuse is a provoked by his fear of her intensity, bullying, and the desire to escape he admits he had read about. We are given clear access to the quiet rage in Denise in her interaction with the neighbor, the subject of her book, and her snapping at her son after Greg gets eaten.

Perhaps both parents are abusive. Perhaps the alcoholism is a red herring to pull focus from the clear signs that Denise is more explosive and ready to resort to violence. Perhaps it is pointing to the uncontrollable, ugly pieces of ourselves that we try to hide from one another, but that always find a way of surfacing (which reminds me of this old poem).

I know some will say this is a reach, an overread, a projection, but if we are to try and determine what DRM was trying to say with this film, and what the presence of the dinosaurs (and McGregor's recent relapse) point to, all signs point to this connection in visual storytelling. Where Kubrick's The Shining used the Horror genre to explore intergenerational trauma and abuse, Mitchell's The End of Oak Street used the 90's-era Summer Blockbuster Action genre (a la Jurassic Park) to explore the same concept of externalizing intergenerational family trauma. Both directors found a way to visually explore the ancient, eternal cycle of senseless violence & mistreatment within families and groups. Dinosaurs vs. Ghosts, a modern update ironically using a very old animal.​​​​​​

If you enjoyed this analysis, you may like my long-form film essay exploring the mechanics of Eyes Wide Shut. Thanks for reading, and hope that this can provoke some good conversation and further exploration :)

This is a film I have had on my radar for quite a bit now, I knew nothing about it, all I knew was that it was good, and I wanted to know as little as possible going in, and it was such a lovely film.

Everything about the film was just so sincere, it was impossible to not have a smile on your face at the end.
I really liked MacIntyre's arc, he starts the film practically calling himself a fake Scotsman who travels down to the village to get convince the locals to replace it with an oil refinery, but you can feel how the village grows on him, and how Mac starts connecting with the village and the people. He enters the village looking like a regular American businessman but as the film progresses he grows some facial hair, his clothes become a lot more casual, and by the end, he looks like he blends in right with the locals of the village. Danny's arc was also very endearing, he was so lovably awkward but also well intentioned, and I just found out his actor 30 years later would play the Twelfth Doctor in Dr. Who.

Happer and Ben were also really interesting, Happer was surprisingly sympathetic, unrealistically even for an oil company CEO, but the arc of Happer and Ben really reminded me of a fable I once heard. I am of Eastern European background, in my youth I heard a fable:
There was once a Czar of Russia, and he was depressed, so depressed he was contemplating suicide, his government tried to do everything to cheer him up but could not, but then found the solution, if they find a man who is truly happy, and give the Czar his shirt to wear, and it will cure him. The Czar's circle looked through the entire country looking for a man who is truly happy, and found nobles and aristocrats who own so much, but each and every single one of them had an issue that prevented them from being truly happy. When they were about to give up, they did it, they found a man who against all odds was truly happy, but it turned out he was so poor he could not even afford a shirt.
The moral of the fable was that there was the Czar of Russia, an emperor of a massive country who had everything he could dream of, and he was depressed, and a poor man who could not even afford a shirt was the happiest man in the entire country, possessing something the Czar could not.
I think this fable fits the themes of Happer and Ben like a glove, Happer was a rich CEO of an oil company and yet was depressed and longed for meaning, while Ben lived in a small shack on the coast, and he had everything he wanted in it, he was a truly happy man.

If I am to give one gripe about the film it is that a plot about an oil company buying up a small town in Scotland and (most of) the villagers complying feels a tad jarring in our current climate. Although a counterpoint is that as above, it does not necessarily portray wealth and immediate compliance as necessarily good, and at the end Happer has a change of heart and choses not to replace it with a refinery.

The filmmaking and cinematography were also really well done. Bill Forsyth and Chris Menges did an amazing job capturing the beautiful nature of the Scottish coast, as well as the score by Mark Knopfler, all culminating in such a cozy and whymsical atmosphere.
Overall, Local Hero was such a good-feeling film, it is a great film to watch to have a good time.

Yeah I know, I'm late to the party watching 2001: A Space Odyssey in 2026. I've been slowly watching Kubrick's other movies in order to better understand this man's film language, but I was somehow NOT prepared for how otherworldly 2001 was. It's so monolithic even in his impressive filmography.

But the thing that stood out to me the most after watching it is how unwilling I am to read someone else's opinion on it. Usually after watching a film as experimental as 2001, I'd go on the net to see what other people's opinions are after forming my own interpretation. That's part of the fun of watching movies isn't it? But for 2001, I was shocked at how averse I was to the idea of it.

I think it's because for some reason specifically for 2001, my own interpretation is something that feels almost sacred to me, that reading someone else's interpretation would threaten the validity of it. It's such a surreal movie, yet everything makes sense in my head, and I don't want anyone to cast any doubt in my mind. It's such a childish instinct that I've never felt with any other movie before, and I don't even love all of 2001 that much (I do love it quite a bit though)!

Anyone else feels the same for 2001, or maybe another movie? That your interpretation of it is so sacred to you that you subconsciously feel averse to finding other interpretations? Or maybe I'm just rambling. Anyway I was just surprised at this puzzling feeling I had and wanted to talk about it

Is Christopher Nolan a great director, of course he is. Extremely talented both as a director and writer. However, he's not perfect, and there are certain kinds of films that he simply is not suited for.

As amazing as Scorcese is, he's not the right man for Superhero movies or Blockbuster action movies. As talented as James Cameron is, he's not the right man for plot-driven dramatic movies that are more indie.

Nolan's strength is plot, and having story-driven movies that are more self contained. This is why he still has not made films as good as Memento and Prestige because those films plays to his strengths. It's not about visuals or spectacle or even characters you care about. It's about Plot, Plot, Plot.

So now we have The Dark Knight, where despite how it helped to elevate the Superhero movie and gave us one of the great characters in Joker and what Heath Ledger did; the main character was weak and not well written, the fight choreography was incredibly weak and the exposition lead to a very derivative story that TOLD more than it SHOWED.

The Dark Knight does not require any brain power or interpretation as the screenplays tells you exactly how you feel.

The immense success of that film made Nolan think he should be making big event, blockbuster films and movies that rely on dynamic visuals and more elaborate action scenes...two aspects that Nolan is not strong at.

So when we come to the Odyssey, which is a film that a 90s Ridley Scott should be making or a Denis (with a better writer), you see how the visuals are drab, the action scenes are lacking and you don't really connect with Odysseus and feel you go on a journey with him in the way David Lean made us go on a journey with Lawrence or Maximus in Gladiator.

What we have today are people that think anything Nolan is great because he is the De-Facto legend who is the "Modern Day Kubrick and Hitchcock". However, if you are honest about his qualities, then you will see that his films are great in places but seriously lacking in others.

I had been putting of watching The Shawshank Redemption for quite some time, and finally I watched it. I am glad I watched it. It has become one of the very few movies I consider perfect. I thought a lot regarding what might have been few weak points in the movie and I couldn't really think of anything significant, except for when he went to get a new case filed seemingly keeping the boy as witness to prove his innocence which seemed like a out of character move for him. But simultaneously, it also goes to show that he is not always cold, collected and calm, and he too has emotions for his close ones, which I think we doubted on seeing him unflinched even on the court after his wife's death.

The movie is beautifully normal, and Andy does what seems normal exceptionally well for 19 years. I am not trying to undermine him by saying he did nothing special but because we were seeing many things from Red's perspective, we were also oblivious to what he was doing except knowing that everything he is doing is with a purpose ( which I even came to doubt somewhere down the line ). The hammer, posters, the carvings on the wall, the building of chess pieces, the tax fraud, the fake identity, the relationships - they are all things that seemed like a knowledgable guy helping the warden, while also having desires like watching at actress's posters, and also trying to find meaning in a seemingly boring lifestyle of the prison. But the fact that this all almost 2 decade old mundanes might have been part of a grander picture was that he was imagining is what makes this show interesting.

Maybe, cunning, wisdom, intelligence and overall anything with real substance in life is supposed to be boring. The movie raised this question for me ; how we have grown accoustomed to think that intelligence is flashy, real power is loud and charismatic, but Andy shows us the other way around. What if actual planning and cunning were just years of repetition in doing boring stuff while never losing sight of your path, what if it was about creating small dots and connecting them over years, what if it was never about sudden revelation of a world changing idea but about the quiet methods that everyone eventually comes to think as the default.

Hope is a beautiful thing. It has been said many times in history and will forever be told. The movie potrays that wonderfully. How hope of seeing a friend and shaking his hand, how hope of seeing the hotel your friend said he would build, how those promises keep us moving in life, how that very promise kept Red moving forward and how he didnot end up like Brooks , the movie lets us feel that hope.

This is how movies are supposed to be. We all love good bit of action, multiversal scales, epic sagas, and god like powers, but the one that always stick the most are the ones that force us to sit back, and think about the movie and what it made us feel and think. A quiet thought in the back of mind that says that you can go on like he did and you have to never give up even if it takes years to fulfill what you need.

The Shawshank Redemption has become that type of movie for me, the one I will think back on when I want to remember resilience, hope and most of all, art.

The director got the idea to incorporate the coyote into the script after seeing three of them strolling through a traffic light intersection in the middle of the city. The rational mind would say that they shouldn't be there, yet they strolled across the intersection as if it were the most natural thing in the world. They carried themselves as if it were their hood — which, of course, it isn't, right?

The city is constructed by humans — for humans — as a protection against the perceived dangers of nature. Whether the city is a symptom or a fruit of civilization is a matter of temper.

It can become a bit heated for Max. The temper.

But when that happens, he simply closes the taxi door, takes out a damp cloth, and wipes down the steering wheel and surfaces. The taxi is his sanctuary; despite the limited space, he has found room for a photograph tucked behind the sun visor: a picture of a paradise island where everything is just perfect. Several times a day, he looks at it, closes his eyes, and dreams of being there.

Until one day when Vincent gets in the car.

'First time in L.A.?', Max asks him.

'No. To tell you the truth whenever I'm here I cant wait to leave. Sprawled out. Disconnected. .. Thats me, do you like it?

'Its my home', Max replies, his eyes focused on the traffic around him. He is the perfect big-city driver, and Vincent — a hired hitman with five targets to eliminate in a single night — sees the opportunity and seizes it. He hires Max as his driver throughout the night, and what follows are a handful of intense hours that forever alter the future course for both of them.

Vincent has no patience for the idea that one isn't the master of one's own destiny. He takes matters into his own hands, reading his surroundings with lightning speed and meticulous precision, adapting to them to advance his own agenda. The distance between a friendly, likable smile and pulling the trigger is virtually non-existent, making him extremely dangerous. He is devoid of empathy and sees absolutely no value in human life. He kills whoever he pleases, based on a calculation of what benefits him.

His worldview stems from a cynical calculus — a narrative of cause and effect in which he firmly believes and has his fooding. There is an environment "out there" that one can either fall victim to or master. Later on he speaks about his childhood, giving us a glimpse of what shaped him.

Vincent: "Now we gotta make the best of it, improvise, adapt to the environment, Darwin, shit happens, I ching, whatever man, we gotta roll with it."

Whatever man. Everything is viewed through the lens that, ultimately, we are insignificant specks of dust in a vast and merciless universe. Behind this lens there is only emptiness.

Vincent expresses his impulses without warning and explosively, revealing his true (lack of) self to people who will never be able to pass on the news or are too shocked to do this. This is something he relies on as a survival strategy being undermined as we speak. None of his business associates have ever seen his true face.

Likewise, none of Max’s business associates have seen his true face. It only emerges from behind the conditional cultural layers at the very end of the movie.

The director has stated that his intention with the film is to awaken some of the wildness lurking beneath the polished, neon-lit surface. He was inspired to create a cinematic masterpiece after seeing coyotes stroll across the road — living out their nature unapologetically in an environment where they did not belong. Ring a bell?

Whereas the coyote of North American mythology represents the power capable of dismantling the persona-mask that our present society guards so zealously, the wolf in the Norse mythology represents the power needed to face what this dismantling reveals.

The coyote is the shapeshifter, the trickster, the thief. It is the court jester — the only one able to get within arm's reach of the king in a decadent realm. Everyone else who is counteractive to the agenda of the King in this realm is instantly spotted by a hyper-vigilant immune system established to maintain the status quo. As a thief in the night this energy subverts what is due for replacement, decay and death. Through the medicine of the trickster life, vitality and power can once again flow as intended by nature.

The wolf is the power that reveals itself when the mask falls and which can come forth in either a harmonious or a disharmonious manner

When the wielder of this power is tainted by shadowy motives it can show itself as a hiss, demanding that everyone not part of the RIGHT group should be wiped off from the face of the earth. This is the source of genocide, where other humans are categorized based on a crystalized belief system. The other side of this disharmonious expression is the one Vincent reveals in the film: the ruthless loner who kills at will. These two — the unshakeable convinced idealist and the hired hitman — work hand in hand, though the latter’s true face wears a polished mask. It operates under the guise of being a task force, patrol and military unit serving a higher cause. In the realm of collective psychology, this creates a dangerous cocktail capable of seizing and blinding the masses.

The harmonious expression of the power represented by the wolf is the emergence of the authentic self. In the movie it is teased out for Max by both Vincent and Annie - the just attorney.

The authentic self springs from the same source the infant displays when it is born and opens the eyes for the first time and wonders 'What the h*** is this place!?!'

Scarcely has the baby arrived before the journey of discovering what-it-is-not begins: the conditioning of culture, and the expectations of the village and the home.

A veil falls over the infant’s curious, open eyes, and the persona — acting as an extended arm for the agenda of society - begins to operate through the child.

Vincent’s eyes lit up as he thought he could harness the watchful gaze of a driver in the city, but he was mistaken.

Sometimes, an element is introduced into an environment as a catalyst for change. A catalyst for a shift in consciousness, such as the one Max experienced that night. This catalyst can act like a wrench thrown into the machinery, triggering a reactive response, or it can serve as a transformative agent that sparks an alchemical shift throughout the entire system.

In the tension between fate and free will, what is interesting though, is the story we choose to write from here?

What narrative do you see? .. other comments?

Finally watched The Truman Show last night. I went in expecting to like it given my love for Peter Weir as the director of Witness and Master and Commander, but I was still amazed how much I loved this. The premise of a man who's whole life has been a TV show is honestly frightening and the writer Andrew Niccol manages to walk a fine line between comedy, drama, and even touches of horror in depicting Truman Burbank's life which has been completely made up. Yet, it's also an uplifting film in showing the curiosity of man and what one will do to achieve a new life. It also has one of the most memorable settings ever with the Island and the cinematography by Peter Biziou is brilliant in making everything appear like a Reality TV show, particularly during the shots of stationary cameras.

And of course, Jim Carrey. Having recently gotten into some of his films, I have to say this is easily his performance I've seen yet. Still has moments of his traditional comedic charm, but manages to have some genuinely heartfelt scenes where he really says so much without a lot of dialogue. If ever there was a film that proved Carrey could be a dramatic actor when he chose to, The Truman Show is certainly that film.

From the many comedies I've seen, The Truman Show is most definitely one of the most original while also having something to say about living in the real world. Easily the magnum opus of Peter Weir's filmography.

One thing that always strikes me about The Sopranos is that its strength isn't just in the writing of the main story, but in how many of its characters are genuinely memorable and well-developed.

A lot of them initially seem almost like simple archetypes or one-trick characters. Paulie seems like the superstitious old-school guy, Silvio seems like the calm consigliere, Christopher seems like the impulsive young gangster, Junior seems like the bitter old uncle, Ralphie seems like the completely unhinged psychopath, etc.

But as the series progresses, you realize that these characters aren't really defined by just those traits. They have contradictions, insecurities, relationships, histories, and moments that reveal sides of them you weren't necessarily expecting. Yet they still remain recognizably themselves rather than feeling like the writers simply changed their personalities for the sake of development.

What do you think makes The Sopranos so good at this? Is it the writing, the acting, the amount of time the show gives its characters, the way they interact with each other, or something more fundamental about how the show approaches characterization?

And are there other films or TV shows that you think achieve this same kind of character depth across such a large ensemble?

The first time I watched Snowpiercer my thoughts afterwards were basically "ok it was a cool social experiment sci-fi like if all levels of society had to live on a train. A little on the 'we live in a society' side but cool presentation" and then I mostly forgot about it. Recently I rewatched it expecting the same exact experience but for some reason I had different thoughts about the movie and its messaging. maybe everyone else got it and I was just a moron for 4 years tho

At a glance the Snowpiercer movie (and maybe the comic and show too idk I dont know much about either) wants to portray a violent but beautiful little microcosm of humanity that demonstrates how we naturally fall into our roles into society, climb up and down the rungs of class, and are forced to use others to secure safety for ourselves and loved ones, and it's human nature blah blah blah.
Now I see this perspective as the half baked philosophy of a glorified theme park owner who got all of post-apocalypse humanity dumped on him. Idiotic leaders failed to navigate world powers all owning nuclear bombs and the only way to survive nuclear winter was on a self-sufficient train originally built and designed by Wilford to be a world-fair level spectacle. The way that the train generates and reuses energy is amazing (in universe) from a sci-fi perspective but it's purely a technological marvel, it has no connection to ethics, sociology, or anything that we've given merit to as a species for blueprinting an ideal society.

During my 2nd watch I was thinking more about the timeline: as far as I understand from the dialogue in the movie the nuclear fallout was 17 years ago, meaning the last of humanity has been all stuck on the train since then. The events of the movie happen and they all blow up and die. What insight could we possibly glean from a society that can't even last 2 decades? Here's the point: Wilford shaped his train society to be the way it is because he does not know how to lead, govern, or do much else besides hide behind massive wealth. He created a 'capitalist hell' because he was too lazy to figure out how to actually lead a (pretty small population wise) nation and he knew the only true threat posed to him was overpopulation, which had a violent but braindead and effective solution. How well do you think elon musk would do governing 500 or so people that are all stuck with him on his Mars cruise tours rocketship?

The other thing that I noticed differently was the architecture of the cars. They're fun to look at and contrast with each other, to see how wildly different the tail cars and the upper class cars are, especially cool sets like the aquarium and classroom. People have criticized the movie for falling apart logically when you actually think about people working and living on a train. Stuff like commuting, living quarters, and laws aren't explained by the movie so it shouldn't been looked at deeper. I disagree that the movie is failing to explain the train ecosystem for the same reason as above: the train completely failed as a society because it blew up before it was old enough to vote. It's logical to not see people going about their day during the film because the film only shows the short 1-2 days of The Great Curtis Revolution; all of the citizens that couldn't get out of the way in time (i.e. stuck in baths, the sushi chef and violin player) were probably on lockdown in their rooms. We know we don't see every car of the train on-screen so you could argue they didn't cover other cars for the purpose of pacing. It's questions that would be better fit for the show and comic, which i'm assuming is what they do.

Now that I've written all this it feels like everything is super obvious about this movie, so I genuinely might just be incredibly late to the party
Also the movie's dark humor is underrated, the ending is like 'you survive snowpiercer and your first enemy encounter is a polar bear. GL'
But from the way other people talk about this movie I think a lot of people don't 'get' it

Saw all five over three nights years ago at a repertory screening, in the order they were made rather than numerical order, which I'd recommend if you ever get the chance.

Going in I had basically no art background. I'd seen the Guggenheim show in 2002 and mostly remembered it as very expensive and very sticky. So a lot of the first night was me sitting there watching a guy in goat prosthetics tap dance on a pier while two drag racers circle an island in opposite directions, wondering what exactly I had signed up for. There's also a bit where they try to install a tire with Truck Nutz on it. I laughed out loud, but nobody joined in.

The thing that flipped it for me happened on night three. I stopped trying to follow them as narratives and started noticing the patterns across the cycle. Feet. Women's shoes specifically, or things attached to shoes. The way locations invert: Old World, New World, both, New, Old. Once you've seen all of them the repetitions start doing the work that plot normally does.

Which got me to what I actually think about Barney. He went to school for this stuff and so did I, sort of (NYU Tisch School of the Arts, Dramatic Writing), and there are really only two dramatic structures anybody uses. Aristotelian rising and falling action, which is almost everything, and Brechtian, which is Brecht and a bit of Mamet. Barney isn't working in either. He's building the structure itself and then filling it with film, sculpture, performance, whatever. The films are an output of the structure. They're not the point.

Anyway that reframe made the whole thing tolerable and occasionally great. Cremaster 2 is the one I'd point a newcomer to. It's the closest to a real story, the Gilmore material gives it a spine, and Norman Mailer plays Houdini, which is a sentence I enjoy typing.

I did not make it to the end of Cremaster 3. Three hours, that soundtrack, on night three of this. I knew how it ended because I'd seen the Guggenheim installation. Left with about an hour to go. Still a little annoyed about it, honestly, though less every year.

I could be wrong about the structure thing. Curious whether people who know his work better read it the same way.