luvsexy4all said:

Ace said:

One and the same! The music is great (IMHO). Would be very curious to hear your thoughts on it (and the movie as a whole), my friend!

movie is kind of sappy....but im with everyone on Greegg alexander music

namepeace said:

The Godfather (1972)

The Gold Standard.



The Godfather, Part II (1974)

The best film ever made.

Masterpieces, love them both.

214 said:

damosuzuki said:

You did claim that:

damosuzuki said: i'm one of those people that absolutely loves sing street. it's definitely one of the best films of all time. i saw that begin again popped up on netflix. never seen it, but i will definitely give it a watch fairly soon. i saw once years ago, and thought it was fine but didn't love it. i think that's part of the reason why sing street was such a wonderful surprise for me. that film just hit me right in the feels in a way once never got close to. there have been a few great little additions to netflix recently: beach rats, princess cyd, good time - some of the best of 2017 imo.

ha, you really had me questioning myself for a second.

Ace said:

damosuzuki said:

synechdoche, new york (2008) 4/5 a true leap into the deep end, something like a slightly more comprehensible 'inland empire.' who knows what it adds up to, if anything, but i had a lot of fun watching it.

Haven't seen this, but I'm of two minds about Kaufman.

On the one hand, he's certainly been innovative. But - on the other - he can be a little clever-clever for me.

I recently watched Eternal Sunshine for the first time (I'd been avoiding it - partially because I long ago lost interest in "romantic" movies). And, I must say, I don't know what all the hype was about. Some impressive technical things, but it left me cold.

My fave Kaufman is Adaptation. I'm not down with the romantic-love-is-everything thing, but I love the balls of him writing about his attempt to adapt an actual book and making himself the lead character.

I find Cage's performance(s) caricatured, though.

i haven't gone back to eternal sunshine in a long time. i liked it at the time, but i much preferred adaptation & being john malovich. i've occasionally looked at giving 'eternal...' a rewatch, but i have such a strong dislike for jim carey, a dislike that's only grown over the years, that i probably can't give it a fair assessment at this point. he is one of the few figures whose public stances have completely poisoned my view of him. not that i ever found him the least bit funny for a second, but he is truly reprehensible to me now.

i was going to suggest giving amomalisa a view as well. it's streaming on netflix right now...just rewatched it a few weeks ago myself. i wouldn't lump it in with standard animated films. it's incredibly lifelike, painstakingly rendered puppetry, and if you watch it with that in mind, i think on a technical level alone it's a real marvel.

synechdoche is another matter entirely. it's almost like kaufman took all the connective tissue that makes up his films, the bits that give you something to latch on to, and just left in all the puzzling, head-scratching moments. i still loved it, and can see myself going back to it again, but only because i really get a lot of pleasure out of his bizarre mannerisms & awkward moments. there's nothing close to an emotional connection to be made with that film, i think.

damosuzuki said:

214 said:

ha, you really had me questioning myself for a second.

why don't you play in hell? (2013) 4/5 "In Japan, gonzo filmmakers hatch a three-pronged plan to save an actress’s career, end a yakuza war and make a hit movie." delirious, insane movie that throws everything at the screen, a collission of who knows how many different styles, and almost everything worked perfectly for me. for the first little spell, i had the feeling that this film wasn't as clever as its makers thought it was, and that its unhinged tone was going to wear out its welcome, especially over a 130 minute run-time. that was folly on my part. no movie this entertaining & energetic & containing such a great payoff at the end can be too long.

[Edited 2/27/18 18:20pm]

damosuzuki said:

i was going to suggest giving amomalisa a view as well. it's streaming on netflix right now...just rewatched it a few weeks ago myself. i wouldn't lump it in with standard animated films. it's incredibly lifelike, painstakingly rendered puppetry, and if you watch it with that in mind, i think on a technical level alone it's a real marvel.

Yeah, I see that. But it's still...animation. I just have a reallly hard time bringing myself to watch animated stuff. Like, I dated a girl who was into South Park early on (and The Simpsons). And some of the stuff she'd recount for me (particulary from the former) was hilarious. But aside from short clips ('Tom Cruise is in the closet!'), to quote Bart Simpson, 'I...just...can't...DO it!!!!!!!'

P.S. Thank you, sexton, for these threads. So much fun!

Abacus: Small Enough to Jail (2016) - A small financial institution called Abacus becomes the only company criminally indicted in the wake of the United States' 2008 mortgage crisis.

Documentaries about specific injustices I usually expect to have no resolution so it's always nice to see one highlight some positives after a family has been wronged in this way. 3.5/5

Ace said:

P.S. Thank you, sexton, for these threads. So much fun!

It's true I started the first few threads, but it's the contributions from everyone that makes these fun.

sexton said:

Abacus: Small Enough to Jail (2016) - A small financial institution called Abacus becomes the only company criminally indicted in the wake of the United States' 2008 mortgage crisis.

Documentaries about specific injustices I usually expect to have no resolution so it's always nice to see one highlight some positives after a family has been wronged in this way. 3.5/5

I happened across this about two months ago. It was very telling, about a community and the government's need to intervene.

sexton said:

Ace said:

P.S. Thank you, sexton, for these threads. So much fun!

It's true I started the first few threads, but it's the contributions from everyone that makes these fun.

Yes, but without the initial spark, there can be no flame.

RodeoSchro said:

namepeace said:

The Godfather (1972)

The Gold Standard.



The Godfather, Part II (1974)

The best film ever made.

I've got to watch Part II some time. I saw Part I a few years back and it didn't really do much for me. I understand that the movie is 40 years old, and that I've watched 1,000 Mafia movies since then.

But I dug "Goodfellas" so hopefully I'll dig Part II.

WTF! This makes me sad. Those are my favorite movies ever.

Ace said:

sexton said:

It's true I started the first few threads, but it's the contributions from everyone that makes these fun.

Yes, but without the initial spark, there can be no flame.

Indeed . . .

Ace said:

sexton said:

It's true I started the first few threads, but it's the contributions from everyone that makes these fun.

Yes, but without the initial spark, there can be no flame.

You can't start a fire without a spark.

there threads are sexton's world.

we're just living in it, as the saying goes.

RodeoSchro said:

Ace said:

Yes, but without the initial spark, there can be no flame.

You can't start a fire without a spark.

That hit me after I hit Send.

Ace said:

RodeoSchro said:

You can't start a fire without a spark.

That hit me after I hit Send.

damosuzuki said:

there threads are sexton's world.

we're just living in it, as the saying goes.

I am amazed at the depth, breadth and quality of both his and your viewings and reviews. I'm doing good to squeeze in one movie a month!

*grabs a dictionary*

Brendan said:

Phantom Thread (Paul Thomas Anderson, 2017)

I left the theater from this movie much like I suspect a zombie would. No drooling, just mentally incapacitated. This is the state I suspect we’re all in much of the time, even if we desperately try to conceal it beneath the sprezzatura of Bond—James Bond.

I try not to be too judgmental in this state, even if someone puts an ax through my forehead. After all, they couldn’t have known. They were just protecting theirs.

I drove home to the Olympics and tried to put to rest that part of my mind the ax didn’t take. Or so I thought. That’s when our crowded subconscious quietly goes about doing most of the work for us.

My thoughts were on double cork 1080s, cross-country ski tips lunged across photos, and deciphering the difference between the athleticism required of curling and that of billiards. Answer: Minnesota Fats never vigorously did anything with a stick outside of the state fair.

Seeking private confirmation against a mirage, there I was at the very next opportunity fluttering my way around this film’s spiral centerpiece all the way back up to the top where the doors swing open to the rarest of properties.

This is reportedly Daniel Day-Lewis’s last performance, and it certainly might be his finest. An idolized dressmaker, Reynolds Woodcock’s well-worn routine for always turning out the highest ideals of independent creation are delivered with such nauseous exactitude you could use a metronome to cue their arrival on the catwalk. Even the way he holds his jaw and adjoins his teeth seem born of endless conflict, and probably genius.

Time to lay the law down at breakfast? Time to meditate on the measurements of another? Time to shed the old skin until you make yourself so sick you start to feel your own mortality?

At times as exhilarating as an intimate jaunt through darkened backroads in an exotic two seater, curiously pulsating with two massively separate ideas of potential. Most of the rest is a misconnect of epic proportions, and eventually a chess match of diabolically twisting wills in the hands of masters.

Stubborn, controlling, and selfishly sickening in their attempts to win at nearly any cost. Once I walked back through all the moves that led to this unnerving checkmate, it became fascinating watching how each pulled their own thread through to a finished masterpiece of caustic dysfunction.

The second film I have seen in as many months that has people hiding secrets in places unlikely ever to be found. The first time in A Ghost Story was within the walls of houses being vacated. This time it’s sewn inside some of the designer coats and dresses.

The thinking in both being that if they should ever forget, it’s always somehow remembered, like some perpetual echo ringing throughout the silence of the universe.

And if ever by chance located, a selfie that managed the most intimate of insights.

Perhaps in some ways how much this movie is stomached is based on how much it also gets viewed as a metaphor for the sometimes incongruent nature of romantic love.

What I’m more sure of at this point is that someone must’ve sewn a trinket from Stanley Kubrick into the lining of my non-designer jacket that held my secret box of M&Ms.

5/5

them epic scorsese films...goodfellas, casino, wolf of wall street

Brendan said:

Phantom Thread (Paul Thomas Anderson, 2017) I left the theater from this movie much like I suspect a zombie would. No drooling, just mentally incapacitated. This is the state I suspect we’re all in much of the time, even if we desperately try to conceal it beneath the sprezzatura of Bond—James Bond. I try not to be too judgmental in this state, even if someone puts an ax through my forehead. After all, they couldn’t have known. They were just protecting theirs. I drove home to the Olympics and tried to put to rest that part of my mind the ax didn’t take. Or so I thought. That’s when our crowded subconscious quietly goes about doing most of the work for us. My thoughts were on double cork 1080s, cross-country ski tips lunged across photos, and deciphering the difference between the athleticism required of curling and that of billiards. Answer: Minnesota Fats never vigorously did anything with a stick outside of the state fair. Seeking private confirmation against a mirage, there I was at the very next opportunity fluttering my way around this film’s spiral centerpiece all the way back up to the top where the doors swing open to the rarest of properties. This is reportedly Daniel Day-Lewis’s last performance, and it certainly might be his finest. An idolized dressmaker, Reynolds Woodcock’s well-worn routine for always turning out the highest ideals of independent creation are delivered with such nauseous exactitude you could use a metronome to cue their arrival on the catwalk. Even the way he holds his jaw and adjoins his teeth seem born of endless conflict, and probably genius. Time to lay the law down at breakfast? Time to meditate on the measurements of another? Time to shed the old skin until you make yourself so sick you start to feel your own mortality? At times as exhilarating as an intimate jaunt through darkened backroads in an exotic two seater, curiously pulsating with two massively separate ideas of potential. Most of the rest is a misconnect of epic proportions, and eventually a chess match of diabolically twisting wills in the hands of masters. Stubborn, controlling, and selfishly sickening in their attempts to win at nearly any cost. Once I walked back through all the moves that led to this unnerving checkmate, it became fascinating watching how each pulled their own thread through to a finished masterpiece of caustic dysfunction. The second film I have seen in as many months that has people hiding secrets in places unlikely ever to be found. The first time in A Ghost Story was within the walls of houses being vacated. This time it’s sewn inside some of the designer coats and dresses. The thinking in both being that if they should ever forget, it’s always somehow remembered, like some perpetual echo ringing throughout the silence of the universe. And if ever by chance located, a selfie that managed the most intimate of insights. Perhaps in some ways how much this movie is stomached is based on how much it also gets viewed as a metaphor for the sometimes incongruent nature of romantic love. What I’m more sure of at this point is that someone must’ve sewn a trinket from Stanley Kubrick into the lining of my non-designer jacket that held my secret box of M&Ms. 5/5

i think i would have liked this even more if i'd smoked a joint before reading it, but i still love it anyway.

tag (2015) 4/5 "Female highs school students, including Mitsuko, Keiko and Izumi, become the targets of ghosts with various appearances including a groom with a pig’s face and female teacher with a machine gun."

up until two days ago, i had no idea there was a japanese film-maker named sion sono, had no idea he existed & had never seen anything he'd done.

after watching tags & why don't you play in hell, it's now incredibly important to me that i see everything he's ever done.

2freaky4church1 said:

Sexton may be elitist.

damosuzuki said:

so, i did indeed re-watch 'magnolia' the other night. it's probably my most watched movie of the past 10 years, and a thing of utter beauty in my estimation. everybody's always 'what's with the frogs?' and 'what's this about?'...i'll give you my take, briefly....

it's about parents and children and how they function together and how everybody everywhere is everybody's child and parent simultaneously and we're all here to live and learn from and take care of each other and how flawed but wonderful that process is...ultimately, whether you want to call it coincidence or serendipity or luck or circumstance, it all matters about as much as if frogs fell from the sky...it don't matter a lick, you're not going to change it...it is what it is for everybody everywhere and the less time you spend trying to know the answers the more time you have to revel in beauty of it.

12/5...the greatest film of the past 25 years; and i look forward to every next viewing.

ridiculously, i also watched 'the lovers' the same night as part of my melora walters mini film fest. it, too, is about the flawed nature of self imposed relationship structures and how one couple chooses to escape them...great performances, especially from tracy letts.

4/5

peedub said:

it's about parents and children and how they function together and how everybody everywhere is everybody's child and parent simultaneously and we're all here to live and learn from and take care of each other and how flawed but wonderful that process is...ultimately, whether you want to call it coincidence or serendipity or luck or circumstance, it all matters about as much as if frogs fell from the sky...it don't matter a lick, you're not going to change it...it is what it is for everybody everywhere and the less time you spend trying to know the answers the more time you have to revel in beauty of it.

Now, this sounds right up my alley.

Another reason I'd avoided it is that I used to think Anderson was a twat. I'd seen interviews with him where I felt he came across as an incredibly arrogant ass.

BUT... I saw an interview with him recently that I thought was just charming and thought, 'Maybe the guy's mellowed with age and learned a few things.'

But that runtime, dude... Oy! I'd say that that's my main sticking point at this juncture.

Brendan said:

Phantom Thread (Paul Thomas Anderson, 2017) I left the theater from this movie much like I suspect a zombie would. No drooling, just mentally incapacitated. This is the state I suspect we’re all in much of the time, even if we desperately try to conceal it beneath the sprezzatura of Bond—James Bond. I try not to be too judgmental in this state, even if someone puts an ax through my forehead. After all, they couldn’t have known. They were just protecting theirs. I drove home to the Olympics and tried to put to rest that part of my mind the ax didn’t take. Or so I thought. That’s when our crowded subconscious quietly goes about doing most of the work for us. My thoughts were on double cork 1080s, cross-country ski tips lunged across photos, and deciphering the difference between the athleticism required of curling and that of billiards. Answer: Minnesota Fats never vigorously did anything with a stick outside of the state fair. Seeking private confirmation against a mirage, there I was at the very next opportunity fluttering my way around this film’s spiral centerpiece all the way back up to the top where the doors swing open to the rarest of properties. This is reportedly Daniel Day-Lewis’s last performance, and it certainly might be his finest. An idolized dressmaker, Reynolds Woodcock’s well-worn routine for always turning out the highest ideals of independent creation are delivered with such nauseous exactitude you could use a metronome to cue their arrival on the catwalk. Even the way he holds his jaw and adjoins his teeth seem born of endless conflict, and probably genius. Time to lay the law down at breakfast? Time to meditate on the measurements of another? Time to shed the old skin until you make yourself so sick you start to feel your own mortality? At times as exhilarating as an intimate jaunt through darkened backroads in an exotic two seater, curiously pulsating with two massively separate ideas of potential. Most of the rest is a misconnect of epic proportions, and eventually a chess match of diabolically twisting wills in the hands of masters. Stubborn, controlling, and selfishly sickening in their attempts to win at nearly any cost. Once I walked back through all the moves that led to this unnerving checkmate, it became fascinating watching how each pulled their own thread through to a finished masterpiece of caustic dysfunction. The second film I have seen in as many months that has people hiding secrets in places unlikely ever to be found. The first time in A Ghost Story was within the walls of houses being vacated. This time it’s sewn inside some of the designer coats and dresses. The thinking in both being that if they should ever forget, it’s always somehow remembered, like some perpetual echo ringing throughout the silence of the universe. And if ever by chance located, a selfie that managed the most intimate of insights. Perhaps in some ways how much this movie is stomached is based on how much it also gets viewed as a metaphor for the sometimes incongruent nature of romantic love. What I’m more sure of at this point is that someone must’ve sewn a trinket from Stanley Kubrick into the lining of my non-designer jacket that held my secret box of M&Ms. 5/5

Brilliant!