Again, I don’t give a fuck what “artistic message” you want to send about anything: if you kill an animal, unsimulated, in your picture, your film is garbage.
You should be thrown in an institution for whatever mental illness you have that insists others need to see the animal being slaughtered “for the sake of art”.
I genuinely don’t give a fuck what you think I’m “missing” on a larger scale about your movie.
Go.
Fuck.
Yourself.
In Béla Tarr’s Hungary, everyone has a PhD in philosophy, nobody bathes, everyone is dirt poor, and everyone moves in exactitude with the camera as to draw attention to what an incredible artist he is. While he still made films (mercifully, he’s since retired), he was reigning narcissist supreme. The act of watching the films he’s left behind are all acts of self-flagellation. “Werckmeister Harmonies” is no exception. The story of a mysterious circus coming to a small town of…
There are two things that make “Madame Sousatzka” more than just a good movie: MacLaine’s performance and the thoughtful screenplay. This is the story of a piano teacher in charge of molding a musical prodigy, and what I really loved about this film was that MacLaine is in such masterful control of this character. She resists the easy temptation to run with Sousatzka as a flamboyant matriarch and consistently anchors her to the earth. The other thing that is so…
