I remember feeling when I was like 14 that this was a boring grown-up movie. And then I never watched it because Russell Crowe. But turns out, it’s Michael Mann, and it’s Pacino, and it’s awesome.
Very excited that Mike Moore got his due.
I remember feeling when I was like 14 that this was a boring grown-up movie. And then I never watched it because Russell Crowe. But turns out, it’s Michael Mann, and it’s Pacino, and it’s awesome.
Very excited that Mike Moore got his due.
It seems like Buttermaker isn’t really going to have any arc whatsoever, and then Matthau gives him an entire arc in the span of a single shot. It’s one of the best moments of performance I’ve ever seen.
Who doesn’t want to watch two Oscar winners arguing about imported jeans and ballet classes or sitting in a Little League dugout?
I’m shocked at how good this was, and at how much it emotionally pummeled me.
One has to assume the Soviet censors were also bored out of their minds by this, I guess?
I think there’s probably an interesting point to be made about Tarkovsky’s hyper-kinetic camera (there are maybe two dozen static shots in the whole nineteen-hour picture), but I was too busy freebasing caffeine to try to stay awake to be able to come up with anything cogent.
Slow cinema at its slow cinemaest. Even some of the arresting visuals can’t save it from a half a star.