Beautifully conveys why plants should be emancipated. Ends on an image of pure light—the food of plants.
If we ever send out a Voyager Golden Blu-ray, this should be on it.
Beautifully conveys why plants should be emancipated. Ends on an image of pure light—the food of plants.
If we ever send out a Voyager Golden Blu-ray, this should be on it.
A pretty much idiosyncratic cinematic take on Nazism (as far as I can judge). Stylistically, it is an fever-dream of a movie, and I found the metaphor of the main character—someone situated somewhere between Winston Smith and Patrick Bateman—and his obsession with purity and suffering really memorable and unsettling. It nicely shows how adept people can be at sticking the landings of bizarre mental gymnastics when justifying such extremely insane ideologies. Very frightening, and a must-see.
Even more insufferable than its bloated three-hour runtime feels interminable, The Saragossa Manuscript is a very self-indulgent and quite pointless movie. It feels like you're watching the badly written-down version of a boring drug-induced vision of a late-Sixties Spain-and-cleavage enthousiast. Visually almost never interesting, amateurishly acted, obnoxiously written. I did like Penderecki's music though. Between this and The Hourglass Sanatorium, I have to conclude Has is not for me.