No sweeter music to a twenty-something creative's ears than transmissions from the world of professional film-makers. Illuminating the political statement involved in their greatest works is especially pleasurable. It vindicates frustrated ruminating on both the medium and industry by saying that yes, you can spend the rest of your life shooting things. You can make this part of your life pertinent, and appreciated, and meaningful.
BUT. Contrary to the name-drops and implications made here, Van Gogh didn't need a gaffer.…
First half feeling: the customary ambivalence at Disney's by-the-brief weirdness. Second: defeated nostalgia for the Nine Old Men's synaesthesic brilliance - I still want a plate of those bread-and-butterflies - taken to peak lucidity by the original prose. Tops on the whole (a nonsense summary from one to another).