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I Was Born, But... 1932
A lot of (charming) dilly-dallying, but the last thirty minutes? From the home movies scene onwards? Pure brilliance, fleet-footed and gutting.
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Werckmeister Harmonies 2000
Avertissement - il y a quelque discussion de l'automutilation en dessous.
Pas du tout un film dans lequel nous pourrions nous égarer. Quand j'ai vu Stalker d'Andrei Tarkovsky pendant la semaine dernière (un autre oeuvre emblématique du « Slow Cinema ») celui-ci était l'effet: le temps du film était le temps de ma vie. J'étais là-bas avec le Stalker, le prof, l'écrivain. Ici, peut être j'étais avec le pauvre János - peut être j'étais même avec la baleine dont l'oeil…
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Mean Streets 1973
I'm glad that I gave Mean Streets a second chance. I loved the visual style, exactly what one would expect based on the striking poster. It captures a skeevy New York (paradoxically filmed in L.A.) similar to the one Scorsese would capture in Taxi Driver a few years later. On old grainy film, the grime of the city is palpable. Deep reds, browns, and shadows of sheer black loom over the action. Despite the primitive feel compared to Scorsese's later…
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Killers of the Flower Moon 2023
A week later, I can’t stop thinking about the way Scorsese filmed the death of Mollie’s mother. Death as a benevolent hand leading us away. Thank god for that moment of gentleness. Thank god for that final shot. I’m thankful for everything lovely that doesn’t redeem us. The alternative is Ernest’s idiotic frown, unshakeable, stolid enough to hold mass graves. That frown carries history in the most violent sense.
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