due to extenuating circumstances this is very late, but it’s better late than never of course. *s = new favorites.
Godzilla Minus One (Yamazaki, 2023): whatever enthralls people about kaiju movies (and, presumably, wrestling) is stuff that just blows right off of me, and that i pretty obviously glean from shaw bros films instead. but sometimes there comes a kaiju flick that i fully get, and this one ended up being one. simple to the point of redundancy at times, has heart where it needs to. hardly the work of an auteur but it seems like every time we get one of these good blockbusters we remember to appreciate the workmen.
Belfast, Maine (Wiseman, 1999): looking at wiseman’s daunting (to say the least) filmography, in my head it becomes easier to start to conquer if i watch the long ones first. and this 4 hour behemoth of a northeastern town in economic transition is certainly a bit of that, as wiseman’s avenues for exploration include lectures, town meetings, workers at the factory, and those on public assistance. like with wiseman’s other city symphonies of sorts, one gets the idea that despite hitting the 2, 3, or 4 hour mark we’re really only scratching the surface of what gives a community its identity, yet eager for more. invaluable as a time capsule, and also the sort of thing that makes you want to make movies.
Deep Red (Argento, 1975): i’ve said for years i’m not really an italian horror guy, and while i never really jump for joy at the prospect of increasing my view-count of them, i kinda “get” the wavelength now. silly, but not too silly. sleazy, but not too sleazy. violent, but not too violent. homogenized, but not too homogenized. a lot of fun in the theater, that much is true, and perhaps the biggest element i was missing out on before.
Do Not Expect Too Much from the End of the World (Jude, 2023): jude’s genuine appreciation for bombastic narratives and hairy hodgepodges is welcome in festival environment that runs the risk of being sterile. his latest outing is, on the surface, not too far removed from your typical cannes-core bougie satire that has the potential to go big and get a wide viewing; a film about the whims of a company and how divorced they are from the workers on the ground. and i suppose it’s not doing anything too radical in that vein, but it is actually funny, has a visual identity of its own, and its punches never feel rehearsed, despite the fact that it’s not going for any sort of realism. exciting as always, and makes jude continue to be a director i look forward to at every avenue.
Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence (Oshima, 1983): my ambivalence to oshima can fortunately be breached sometimes, and this bizarre outing of his is luckily one of those that breaches. manages to broach a queer topic in a way that suggests to me that there might have been something cooking for him in a deeper sense if you catch my drift, but beyond that it’s respectful and beautiful and also has an incredible score. funny enough it seems like the kind of movie that americans would try to remake somehow, surprised that sort of thing hasn’t happened yet but thankfully i don’t think this is famous or influential enough to attempt it now.
Sudden Rain (Naruse, 1956): naruse’s filmography is sprawling in a way common for those classic japanese filmmakers, but so far taking random stabs at it has proved fruitful. this one’s a fairly straightforward domestic drama that he seemed ever-interested in. the score is noteworthy here as it appears to be just one guy noodling on the piano for the entire runtime, kinda adding to the sitcom-esque humor to the whole deal. i’m not confident naruse was the guy who made multiple masterpieces, but if his deep cuts are as masterful as this then consider me a devoted fan.
Carmen (Saura, 1983): the narrative gimmick here is one that runs the risk of being overplayed, though the setting (opera tryouts of sorts) is a breath of fresh air, as is the flurry of dancing that features prominently in this. i kinda don’t care a whole lot about the stakes of the characters in saura’s films for the most part – his music-based films seem to excel for this, and his more dramatic ones seem to suffer. maybe i just have finally been converted to the “bodies in motion” side.
The Evil Within (Getty, 2017): what do you even say about something like this lol. one of a kind “rich parents” movie where there’s some clear talent and mania from the person behind the camera, and who knows what would have happened to the ill-fated getty in another world without those rich parents. i guess this film probably wouldn’t exist as this is pretty solidly outsider art by most definitions.
The Boy from Hell (Asato, 2004) & Dead Girl Walking (Shiraishi & Kazuhiro, 2004): two japanese horror featurettes in the style of like, goosebumps tv episodes. asato’s feels like the best realized version of a no-budget evil folktale come to life in crappy digital, while the other one is a pretty well envisioned exercise in abstract horror. i hear the other films in this series are a bit weaker, but for the interested gremlins, these are nice palette cleansers after a Guinea Pig marathon.
Bruine Squamma (Eizykman, 1977): no idea how she conjured these images up (one of the best feelings to have while watching an experimental film), and it must have taken ages to do so, but this pays off as i enjoyed watching an experimental feature-lengther which is an arduous task sometimes. from my immediate glance, i think a lot of her work is in a similar vein of creating narratives through rhythm and editing, but i’m somewhat doubtful she can top this. who knows, i’ll try to see more of hers soon.
The Boy and the Heron (Miyazaki, 2023): i think a lot of miyazaki’s more conventionally adored work is frustratingly juvenile, and a lot of his more bombastic work to be frighteningly well-done surrealism, so obviously this one ranks highly for me. funny how close this ends up being to the Matrix sequels, notably Revolutions, as it questions the notion of pulling the plug on a fantasy world of sorts – obviously the narrative journey is far different but there’s similarities that don’t feel particularly intentional. won me over in a very cinematic way, wish they stuck to the other title but when you’re dealing with normie weebs as your audience i understand you gotta turn up the slop-o-meter as much as possible.
City Hall (Wiseman, 2020): ok a reasonable chunk of this movie is just a campaign ad, another reasonable chunk is a veteran town hall of sorts, and those two things do unfortunately bring this down as they grind the film to a halt on an ideological and a narrative level respectively for a few minutes each time. otherwise though it’s a fascinating document; the sprawl threatens to overwhelm this time however as it’s dealing with a much larger city than wiseman’s other films of this nature. what kind of a complaint is that though? only a few more 3+ hour wiseman films to go before i get to the 2 hour ones that 200 people in the world have seen.
Ferrari (Mann, 2023): so far below what mann is capable of, but with this material i’m not really seeing what more he could have done honestly. this feels like a pretty dour way to sell you on a movie. mann-heads know that even at his weakest (and this is also, similarly, far from his weakest) he’s still interesting, and at his midpoint he’s better than most directors tryharding. i also saw this in an absolutely awful presentation at a theater i rarely go to which made me wonder how bad projection is at other random theaters in the country.
Ju Dou (Yimou, 1990): features many of yimou’s most adventurous palettes, and also one of the most ontologically evil children in celluloid history. not two things that immediately sound like they should go together – and, full discrepancy, they really have nothing to do with each other – yet these are enough to probably sell some of the people on a random early film from the master.
Scarlet (Marcello, 2022): i found marcello’s prior feature Martin Eden to be divine – a film with sensory pleasures abound, a real heart for its characters, an interesting structure, frankly brilliant conversation about the politics of individualism, and lovely experimental interludes. so when i went into his newest, i really had no idea what to expect but expectations were high. and this is…probably just as lovely as that film, but very different. has an almost pastoral simplicity, tender as can be, and never felt like some squeamish festival-core stuff either. after this very successful curveball, i’m really just excited to see what type of film we get from marcello next.
Glitter Goddess of the Sunset Strip (Campbell, 1991): if you only see one cali brainrot groupie auteurism post-lesbian stress disorder movie make it this one.
Close Your Eyes (Erice, 2023)*: i saw Spirit of the Beehive during my criterion crave as a teenager and found it somewhat disappointing in a world where the good movies are obvious masterpieces and the disappointing ones are like, ingmar bergman’s 13th best movie. perhaps its subtle pleasures went over my head. but here they don’t. here i felt as though i was watching something so beautiful unfurl that it felt like i was gassing it up even while watching – what is erice even doing here that’s “complicated?” what about this scenery is so captivating? what about its somewhat nondescript characters is so compelling? it’s a mystery wrapped in a mysterious film that culminates in some of the most moving sequences i’ve ever seen. literally, how did he do it?
The Delinquents (Moreno, 2023): todos las películas de argentina yo veo tienen 180+ minutos. este película es muy divertida, sin los segmentos de mal, y tiene laura paredes de La flor. quiero ver mas películas de moreno, mas películas de argentina, y hablar mas español en el blog.
Run Lola Run (Tykwer, 1998): should have watched it when i was, conservatively, like 15, but honestly had a pretty good time with it now in the theater. dates itself in a very admirable way, and while it’s the kind of thing that almost surely signals diminishing returns of the director’s future outings, it’s still a fun outing for what it is.
Trailer of a Film That Will Never Exist: Phony Wars (Godard, 2023): obviously calling this a film in the conventional sense is stretching some words, which is why it isn’t called a film in the conventional sense. calling it a trailer is also stretching some things. more than anything, feels like you’re watching someone die – not unlike peter whitehead in his final cinematic offering. in both cases, it’s evident that the authors have more to say, and wish they could get just a few more words in before their final everlasting. and godard’s are somewhat scrapped together pleas for peace at his most opaque yet. he didn’t leave us with any easy answers, but he left us with something beautiful in its own right.
Benediction (Davies, 2021): i watched a couple of davies’ films as a teenager and enjoyed them to some extent but felt a distancing. this one i had no such trouble with – i adored the marcello-esque experimental flourishes, the abrupt cuts to WWI archive footage (or is it really? who knows) and the film’s narrative being a breeding ground for davies’ frustrations on queer lifestyles and his penchant for periods before his adolescence. it made me realize that maybe there’s more to this unfashionable old british guy than met the eye initially, and i’m excited to work through more of his work in the coming months.
Two for the Road (Donen, 1967): the birth of new hollywood was a watershed moment in american cinema shedding the hays code and its newfound depictions of debauchery and violence, but it also brought upon this film – by (at this point) a has-been relic of the old system, breathing life into this portrait of a tumultuous romance. it’s wild that it never really feels totally out of place as a mid 50s technicolor flick, but it’s so mature and goes into such daring directions (not even sub-textually, it’s all just text!) and it seems like the perfect sort of thing to benefit from these loosened restrictions. glad i finally got to see this after having it hyped up to me for forever.
Mad Fate (Cheang, 2023): cheang’s a competent mix between workman who understands the assignment and auteur in his own right, never quite convincing me that he’s a master of either. this sort of jack of both trades is rare, and in this film he teeters on the edge of creating a great conventional genre thriller and making a more bizarre, off the wall character study, and it never quite coalesces into either but there’s enough meat on the bone that i’m intrigued to see what directions he goes into next.
The Heartbreak Yakuza (Harada, 1987): though harada may be a one-hit wonder after all (though how many directors have a Kamikaze Taxi in them?), his more minor offerings still hold their own pleasures. looks incredible and i found it refreshingly sympathetic for a gangster flick of this sort. perhaps my penchant for kind films and harada’s insistence on filling his films with love will win me over to his other works though, guess i’ll have to see them to find out.
The Dreamed Films (Pauwels, 2010)*: i don’t even remember how i heard about this film’s existence, but those i knew who’d seen it adored it. the description tells me nothing about it, the reviews arguably even less so, and here i am completing the puzzle, saying nothing about this mysterious 3 hour essay film masterpiece. i guess you’ll have to find out for yourself.
The Sleeping Beauty (Breillat, 2010): at times reminds me of Petit Maman, others reminding me of breillat’s own Bluebeard, at no times reminding me of the woman who made Anatomy of Hell and Fat Girl. but breillat fans probably are aware that she operates in two distinct modes, and while her more prickly new french extremity tendencies are obviously what make her masterful, stuff like this is proof that she’s not some one-trick pony by any means. if she were to continue making stuff in this mold for the rest of her (diminishing?) career, i certainly wouldn’t complain – competent adaptations and true childlike wonder in fairytales is something fleetingly rare for some stupid reason.
core enforcer 