A Brit myself, I get a kick out of films set in Britain. Hell, I even really like the set up for this- the grey, gloomy English countryside, the elaborate and intricate interiors to the house, the bright greenhouse in which we first meet Jimmy Stewart's General Sterwood (yes, James Stewart is in this) and the dimly lit bedrooms sensuously draped in wavey sheets and curtains- but at the end of the day, it's totally antithetical to the world of…
Farewell My Lovely:
The classic noirs, the noirs of the 40s and the 50s, and the characters in them, were always cynics, always presenting their nihilistic worldviews in equally flowery and snappy monologues; and this is only emphasised by a wizened, world-wearied Marlowe played by an almost sextegenarian Bob Mitchum and his lazy slurring of these negative sentiments. The classic noirs were always brutal, always harsh, equally in sentiment, as in content, they always found shocking ways to stand out…
Hell yes. The Rocking Horesmen is a naïve film. About naïve characters chasing a naïve dream. And luckily, I'm just naïve and sentimental enough to be succeptible to the dream. I was succeptible to the the sentimentality imposed on me, as the viewer, and I was succeptible to the nostalgic settings and music and people and everhthing else. And i enjoyed every minute of it.
Which isn't to say the film doesn't have some edge when it needs to, of…
This man must have a huge wanger, above anything else. Golgo ends up inside everything breathing thing sans penis, it's ridiculous- it's like watching a James Bond film, only way worse than any James Bond film. Every other woman here is undressed... I think there's a phrase for it, and it rhymes with "Pail Days".
Some of this looks really pretty though, big fan of the deep blues and intricately layered cross hatching, even the kind of silly looking CG opening.