With a cathartic sigh, Wendy and Lucy quietly aches of small gestures and brief encounters, of nameless strangers (some kind, some not), and of all things that come with just passing through. There is a symphony of voices just beneath the surface here.
Lanthimos has a wonderful way of wading through inaccessibility just lightly enough to come up unscathed, allowing for a product of [intentionally] sterilized idiosyncrasy, both in dialogue and in action. Here, it's business as usual for Lanthimos, but I find the inaccessibility has won. Both The Lobster and Dogtooth (as outlandish as they are) do seem to be rooted in a kind of hyperbolic realism; with The Killing of a Sacred Deer, not so much.
Surely there's much to dissect here (it's a magnificent piece of modern cinema, don't get me wrong), but by its end I could care less. Next time.
Andrea Arnold is a singularity in a cesspool of congruency―her camera, her talent, her subjects, all freely moving against the grain―in a world stamped with only one possible signature: hers. This is necessary independent cinema; a burst of creativity and rebellion so badly needed in an otherwise (mostly) standardized arena.
American Honey breathes with a richness in character, so nuanced and so untapped, you just can't wait to see what comes next.
I don't know man, kind of just think mother! is a brilliant black comedy/exercise in hyperbole and that everyone is taking it a bit too seriously.
I have many thoughts, but chiefly what I admire most is that Aronofsky completely went for it. Deem this film narcissistic, pretentious, or callous, but it's clearly the work of an uncompromised vision.
Is mother! flawed? Of course. I could do without its silly final minutes, but that by no means ruined the film…