Together, Hans Zimmer + Denis Villaneuve have made a frightening totalitarian spectacle – and I drank it up like a parched desert mouse.
D2 is equal parts Leni Riefenstahl, Andrey Tarkovsky, and Stallone's First Blood.
My question is: would this film have been as powerful (and admittedly, "moving") as a silent film with closed captioning (that is, without the deafening onslaught of Hans Zimmer's brigade of battle horns)?
Much too long (I can imagine a 2 hour cut by Soderbergh of the same story), and despite being shot in the land of the Osage, this looked and felt like any white man's film for white audiences.
I have a strong gripe about authenticity of this film: there were numerous appearances of diegetic music that were clearly out of time: For example, Roy Acuff's "Great Speckled Bird" was recorded and released in 1938, which would have been a full…
This is a 2-1/2 hour film about a "maestro" that was totally tone deaf: on the issues, on the art and craft of making music, on humor, and especially in the perplexing third act, which pushed a troubling trope of the white woman adrift in a third world setting.
Does Tár find redemption in the end? I don't know and I don't care.
A shout out to the late-arriving couple in the row before us, who made out indiscreetly during this film like they were watching a Passolini film. It felt as if I was witnessing doppelgängers of the Hoesses in the passion of their youth right before my own eyes.
Nazis... they could have been anyone.
