obsessed with old hollywood and everything from the 60s?
what ever happened to baby jane has a kind of a sunset boulevard vibe where fame only ever ends in bitterness and insanity, but this time WAY more twisted and macabre. bette davis and joan crawford are both perfectly and terrifyingly insane, abusive and manipulative in their own way and this is a true descent into hell
"The morning light. The spots of the first drops of rain. The sun. The bread and wine. The veins of leaves. The blowing grass. The color of stones. The pebbles on the stream's bed. The white tablecloth outdoors. The dream of the house in the house. The dear one asleep in the next room. The peaceful Sundays. The horizon. The light from the room in the garden. The night flight. Riding a bicycle with no hands. The beautiful stranger. My father. My mother. My wife. My child."
and you look across the room and catch each other's eyes — not because you're possessive, or it's precisely sexual... but because... that is your person in this life.
i’m not exaggerating when i say i cried a LOT watching this, especially at the end when sophie and frances glance at each other and smile so bright. this story about friendship and the road to adulthood (and everything really) is beautifully told, the dialogues are great, and i love how it ended, how we learn where the name "frances ha" comes from ; it’s still incomplete in a way and i loVED IT
this is the perfect holiday movie, a mix of halloween with witches and spells and christmas in new-york, with a perfect cast you wouldn't necessarily picture in this kind of movie. kim novak and james stewart somehow reenact vertigo and jack lemmon is hilarious as always. it's such comforting atmosphere, warm and spooky and with the cutest cat ever