I am not a concert film guy. As a teenager in the day of Talking Heads, I was not a Talking Heads guy. The final half-hour of this, though, made me wanna be both.
Drop me in the river. Please.
A camera is present at a moment of profound tragedy - the intentional drowning and destruction of a city. The camera being there at this moment in time constitutes an extraordinary event. I shouldn’t spend too much time over the question of whether the film itself is extraordinary. Life is too short for that.
Allow me only to weep along with this camera.
This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.
Ivan is one of the great holy fools of modern cinema.
His hope seems the height of foolishness in the face of the exhausting darkness that dogs his every step. Until, at the 11th hour, Ivan's hope has overcome this darkness.
A dense, panoramic film about shame, loyalty, restoration, hard work, and the impulse to fly into near-certain death.
Hawks is starting to sell me on this crazy idea that genre films can also
be great films.
Note: has there ever been a film with more moments in which a cigarette acts as an active participant in key interactions between characters? If so, please share. :)