The most accurate & methodical depiction of the metaphysics of tripping ever put to screen. There’s the rhythmic handcar sequence to enter the Trip/Zone, a dreamy reprieve amid the flowery meadows of wonder, the waffling about how to proceed, the cadaverous stripping of ego, the swamps of self-doubt, the terrible torrents of paranoia, leaky tunnels of existential despair, a perilously prideful bunker of false enlightenment, a destructive retreat into dilapidated nihilism, & finally the return to the local pub for a come-down…
Some may find the editing in Ambulance to be maximalist overkill. I think it is masterful. After watching dozens of copy-cat action flicks over the last decade, almost nobody creates orchestrated chaos like Michael Bay (besides maybe Tony Scott). His kinetic craftsmanship is unreal. What’s his process, anyways? Does he storyboard? Does he shoot a thousand angles & create the chaotic musicality in postproduction?
Whatever the case, Bay’s choreographic image-ballet is as graceful as it is frenetic, as lyrical as it…
Wait, what? Over in a flash & left me winded. An utterly baffling exercise in genre dysmorphia. Definitely overselling it a bit because it’s also perfunctory. Decide for yourself. It’s a mere 80 minutes & jam packed with gremlins, WWII iconography, & a briefcase culpable of shaken baby syndrome. You won’t be bored.
I am all for homoeroticism in machismo cinema. At the same time, I’ll call a spade a spade — at least as I see it. And in the case of Top Gun, I feel that many pseudo-deconstruction theories, including the postulations espoused by Quentin Tarantino’s character in Sleep With Me, are off the mark with their reading of the film’s sexuality. While Tarantino’s overloaded monologue in Sleep With Me is golden manna for an ex-literary major like myself, his elaborate…