Remember when the Police Commissioner gave a press conference telling all of L.A. they were fucked?
This should've been 88 minutes longer.
Remember when the Police Commissioner gave a press conference telling all of L.A. they were fucked?
This should've been 88 minutes longer.
These bitches have DRAMA.
The narrative kinda beats you over the head with "this is political, ideological, and personal. It is not the will of God." But what struck me on the second watch the filmmaking itself--shot selection, sound design, small character choices--clearly communicating how decidedly EARTHLY these bitches are. Listening to Ralph Fiennes breathe, hearing him groan, seeing liver spots. Lithgow punching the coffee maker button. Cigarette butts everywhere. Rosselini making copies. Even just watching them all shuffle into vans was perfect.
Don't want to be that variety of douchebag who just has to poke holes...but wouldn't the giant jackal raping women in the Roman catacombs be enough to drive people back to religion?
There's a lot of shade being thrown at the cinematography and I'm compelled to set the record straight: the grainy, gnarly footage was a choice. Boyle wanted to lean into the guerilla, cinema veritie of it all. That's why he made the inspired decision to shoot this on a battered old shoe that Cillian wore as a lad.
Also: this movie is perfect. No notes.