Complete list of the films Guillermo del Toro has recommended on twitter. Click the 'Read notes' button to see his…
Some people never go crazy. What truly horrible lives they must lead.
Downtrodden writer Henry and distressed goddess Wanda aren't exactly husband and wife: they're wedded to their bar stools. But they like each other's company- and Barfly captures their giddy, gin-soaked attempts to make a go of life on the skids.
I just finished reading Bukowski’s Factotum so felt it was an appropriate time to check out this film penned by the man himself. Like his novels, there isn’t much of a plot here. Henry Chinaski stumbles around town, getting drunk at bars and picking fights. That is practically it. Yet it’s still endearing to watch. Henry’s misanthropic view on society makes him easy to root for amid a slew of chauvinistic men, rundown buildings and the juxtaposition of the bright skies of California. Despite not having much of an inner monologue like on the page, Henry still comes out with great lines of dialogue, often depressing but always achingly true. He connects with another lost soul in Faye Dunaway’s Wanda…
When reading Bukowski or watching a Bukowski movie, the on hand cocktail should always be a boilermaker. There are different schools of thought when preparing a boilermaker, but I lean towards Bukowski's way: drink some whiskey and a beer separately.
Bukowski (or Chinaski) would sometimes drink his whiskey with ice and water – I urge my fellow drunks to not follow this method. Keep it at room temperature. Whiskey tastes fucking magical without diluting it's flavor with water. I bet Bukowski didn't drink the recommended 8 cups of H20 a day, so I will forgive this.
Some people will drink the whiskey in a single shot. This is also an ill advised step. You ever watch Mad Men? A classy…
'Do I dare drink without prerogative? Such resolve is not mine to claim.
Forgive me Lord for I became frightened and drank with greed, only to keep you at a distance, therefore do not judge the perpetually inebriated state of mine; I drank, I coaxed divinity with my flattering drunken charms; I persuaded authority to allow me to make myself a drunk.' - Local Folk Song
Mickey Rourke becomes Charles Bukowski the first instance that the camera captures his ruffled portrayal, and the actor is gone; replaced by the 'laureate of American lowlife' (a title bestowed upon Bukowski by Time Magazine).
Our destitute and achingly lonely writer is shown shifting from one menial job to another, not finding any respite…
I just finished seeing this movie in a state of drunken intoxication..For the record i never glorify any of the vices in our day to day life but Alcohol sometimes is a long lost friend; it helps me to forget for a period of time all of my problems in life.There is nothing wrong with losing all our inhibitions; it brings truth out into the forefront.I mean that is the manner in which a human being is supposed to be..He is not hiding behind some facade of lies.
21 years before he delivered a worthy comeback performance in the Wrestler, Mickey Rourke was one of the rising stars and if you want to see what he is capable of just…
I could say some smart shit about this movie, but I was drunk while I watched it. Was watching it, I mean...were watching it?
If this life can be a character I'd love it to be Henry. Was that a performance by an actor? I mean, Mickey Rourke was walking on the scenes like a fuckin God.
Bored the hell out of me. The screenplay, while often funny, just seems too self-absorbed on Bukowski's part, and Mickey Rourke seems to be doing a dollar store Brando impression.
When I caught this on late-night TV back in '05, I perceived it as a blatantly glorified self-portrait of Bukowski. Didn't leave the biggest impression on me. But now I see it as the seediest ballad for endearing losers—Mickey Rourke is just sublime as a philosophical, swaggering, slurring drunk—while Faye Dunaway is at her most unglamorous as his sympathetic counterpart. Absolutely love the starkness of the locale work as well: cheap bars, dirty hotels, battered streets etc. while the tone manages to shrewdly change between caustic humour and grim abasement. Only aspect I'm not too sold on is the interlude with Alice Krige (which just serves as a didactic takedown on her upper-class privilege) but at least it ends on the most riotous catfight. Reow! What a time to be a drunkard dreamer in the 80's.
The 67-year-old LA poet Charles Bukowski wrote this semi- autobiographical script about his heavy-drinking skid-row days just after the Second World War, when he was a scrappy young man, in his mid to late 20s-a budding writer who was beginning to be published. But Mickey Rourke, who plays the role, imitates the tortoise movements of the battle-scarred survivor Bukowski, the writer- philosopher, the sage. This howler gives the movie a comic boost. Rourke twinkles with amusement at doing Bukowski, and the two principal women (Faye Dunaway as a burnt-out drinker, Alice Krige as the wealthy publisher of a literary magazine) twinkle back. The movie, though, is big on life affirmation. The hero isn't afraid to lose a fight or to…
Had high hopes for this but, man, it's grating. I know that this scuzzy, drunken, unshaved vibe is exactly what Bukowski was, but it comes across as artificial here. I don't think the 80s music and approach to cinematography helps at all - the most inauthentic decade trying to strive for a certain kind of shambling authenticity. I usually love these old Mickey Rourke movies, but here, he's all tics and not much else. Faye Dunaway fares better, because she shows just a little bit of restraint. It has a couple of great scenes, but didn't really work for me overall.
This is a hundred thousand times better than You're the Worst. Bukowski wins me over on this one.
Wow this is a master class in acting although the story feels a bit like it came straight from theatre. It really is a great watch .
It's been a long time since I've seen this, much longer than any of my other 10/10 films, because it's never had a US DVD release and my superannuated VCR (redundancy) refuses to play my videotape copy. So when I found it streaming tonight, I was a little apprehensive about a re-watch. I was afraid I might not love it anymore.
I'm happy to report that my fears were groundless, though my affection for it might not make sense to other viewers. I think you have to be, or have been, an alcoholic to really get this movie. And not just an alcoholic, but the kind of borderline-homeless, can't-keep-a-job boozer that Mickey Rourke's Henry Chinasky is. Prob'ly most normal people…
I like Bukowski a lot so was up for this film that has become fairly hard to find in recent years. It an OK say in the life ramble that is chaotic in way fans of the author will recognise. Dunaway is good. Rourke seems to be channeling Brando through Dylan's vocal chords and his performance always seems like acting, but at least he doesn't try to polish it up too much. It did make me appreciate Dillon in Factotum who gives a considerably more natural performance.
Found these lists (twelve total which I've compiled) a couple years back and they slowly became my bible for weird…