Intolerance (Griffith, 1916) - The ambition of the film’s scope and structure is certainly impressive, but I couldn’t get it out of my head that the “intolerance” Griffith is railing against is critics of “Birth of a Nation” not tolerating his racist horseshit.
I didn’t hate the movie entirely, but maybe the most telling problem is that the few minutes of documentary footage at the end of the film immediately made me think, “Damn, I wish I had seen that instead.”
Judas and the Black Messiah (King, 2021) - I recommend reading this review from @angelicabastien, as she speaks to many of the same misgivings I had with this movie much better than I ever could: https://t.co/WtROxFgrOg
spite of his vulnerability to an invulnerable superhero. The first is a great film that stands out as being uniquely well-structured and entertaining. This sequel is a middle-of-the-road 80s/90s action film. If it weren’t a Die Hard sequel, it would be hardly remembered.
Die Hard 2 (Harlin, 1990) - Comparing the sequel to the original really helps highlight just why the first one works so well. In the attempt to make the sequel bigger, the villains take a backseat to stunts and explosions, and John McClane is changed from a human being a hero in
The Hunchback of Notre Dame (Dieterle, 1939) - I appreciate the difficulty and physical work required for Charles Laughton’s performance here as Quasimodo and understand why it’s lauded, but in all honesty, it’s not his best performance - maybe just his “most” performance.
As a side note, the character of Birdie may truly be one of the saddest characters in film history. The whole ensemble is great, lead by Bette Davis’s towering performance, but Patricia Collinge deserves recognition for how perfectly and heartbreakingly piteous her Birdie is.
The Little Foxes (Wyler, 1941) - I knew little about this film going in, but was thoroughly taken by it. I repeatedly found myself impressed by how Wyler choreographed placement and movement in the frame to make each shot as dense with narrative purpose as possible.
is the one who makes it. The chain of events is heartbreaking, especially as the main boys are powerless to stop it and are left broken apart just as soon as they came to recognize themselves in each other.
Au Revoir les Enfants (Malle, 1987) - Saw this movie for the first time years ago, and it has always stuck with me. The development of the characters and the friendship between the two main boys feels incredibly real and emotionally honest in a way beyond many films (likely due
to the story being based on an actual formative moment in Malle’s childhood). This time through, I did find a lot more tragedy in the character of Joseph - Malle does a perfect job of showing why Joseph makes the horrible decision he does so that it’s all the more painful that he
handles a difficult storyline dealing with a very emotionally fraught subject, plus a relatively ambiguous ending and using a child actor as the audience’s p.o.v., which can be difficult for even seasoned directors to do effectively.
Eve’s Bayou (Lemmons, 1997) - Admittedly I am a sucker for media set in Louisiana - the peculiarities of that region’s melange of cultural aesthetics are pleasing to me for reasons I could only clumsily articulate - but I think this film may be among the great directorial debuts.
The movie does a great job of developing all of the primary characters of the ensemble and using them to develop not only the story but the mood of the film and the themes it presents on fate, choice, and memory, and as a first time director at the time, Kasi Lemmons expertly
acting ability to convince us why her character would care about this man and certainly falls short of Jean Seberg’s iconic performance. The film’s final section is perhaps most egregious, as it entirely neuters the enigmatic and tragic power of the original’s ending.
Breathless (McBride, 1983) - There are some truly beautiful shots and use of lighting here, but otherwise this was a big disappointment. I’d heard that this remake of Godard’s movie was surprisingly good, but I think the comparison to that film does this one no favors.
despite his flaws. Gere’s Jesse seems older, which makes his flaws and general assholery harder to forgive. Gere as a performer does the best he can, but the character is written as obnoxious and doesn’t make sense as a romantic lead. Meanwhile, Valérie Kaprisky does not have the
from an unhinged adult man manipulating an innocent teenage girl into criminal activity to a conniving and psychopathic young woman taking advantage of a man struggling with a delusional disorder.
Pretty Poison (Black, 1968) - I do hate how vaguely defined the main character’s “mental illness” is in this story (and so many others), but I do appreciate how well Anthony Perkins and Tuesday Weld play their roles and effectively play out the “double turn” for their characters