Band of Outsiders
(Jean-Luc Godard, 1964)

As all Godard films, it's a fascinating deconstruction of the cinematic - more specifically, an application of American gangster film clichés to an ordinary environment. It's also wonderfully acted (Karina in particular), and directed with a deft touch that combines naturalism and lyricism. For my money, it doesn't quite cohere into a fully masterful production, but it's a must-see nevertheless.

***
^{(A must-see)}

Baraka
(Ron Fricke, 1992)

Thoughtful, extraordinarily evocative pictorial synthesis of our times. Director-photographer Ron Fricke's juxtaposition of the elemental and the industrial is revealing and often surprising in its astuteness, and his compositions are nothing short of breathtaking. A remarkable, memorable, must-see film.

****
^{(Masterpiece)}

Being John Malkovich
(Spike Jonze, 1999)

The best film of 1999, one of the decade's best, and one of the most unique and original narratives to hit the silver screens in years. Charlie Kaufman's script is wondrous, hitting a masterful balance between comedy, tragedy, and between the ordinary and the metaphysical, and Spike Jonze's direction matches it scene for scene, capturing every nuance and every idiosyncrasy. The performers are also uniformly exceptional, and special kudos goes to Carter Burwell for one of the most haunting scores in recent memory.

****
^{(A must-see)}

Black Hawk Down
(Ridley Scott, 2001)

Exhaustively realistic chronicle of the fifteen-hour "Battle of Mogadishu" that stands as one of the best recreations of modern urban warfare ever put to celluloid. Scott's direction is the star of the show here -- he manages to bring coherence to the chaotic events, and to film combat with a strong visual style that complements the impeccable realism. The film is limited by its refusal to analyze the moral and contextual levels of warfare, but within its self-imposed confines, it is accomplished.

***
^{(Recommended)}

The Blob
(Irving Yeaworth, 1958)

Fun special effects and above-par performances, but the lack of bona fide blob action is ultimately dissapointing.

*
^{(Has redeeming facets)}

Breaking The Waves
(Lars von Trier, 1996)

The film is carried by the extraordinary performances of Emily Watson and Stellan Skarsgaard, and by the ambiguity that von Trier gives to their characters; von Trier's directorial choices are superb (the camerawork gives a sense of realism that is much needed, and the lush chapter interludes act as striking counterpoints); the script is simple, yet compelling, and the ending, while reckless and (at least on some level) nefarious to the movie, is exactly the kind of filmmaking choice the cinema world needs right now. Breaking the Waves is not a perfect movie, but it's the kind of unconventional, exhilarating filmmaking that makes Lars von Trier the most interesting director around.

***
^{(A must-see)}

The Cabinet of Dr. Caligary
(Robert Wiene, 1920)

The expressionistic visual style, compelling plot, and stylized performances are delights for film fans and rank among the best of the silent era -- and the storytelling techniques are years ahead of their time.

****
^{(A classic)}

Chungking Express
(Wong Kar-Wai, 1994)

A remarkably, at times even wondrous, exercise in pure cinema from avant-garde director Wong Kar-Wai. Comprised of two separate love stories, it is told through a structure that might have been impossible in another film, but works perfectly thanks to Kar-Wai's organic, soulful direction. The performances are excellent (Tony Leung and Faye Wong deserve particular kudos), and as is always the case with this filmmaker, the visuals and soundtrack are exceptional.

***
^{(A must-see)}

City of God
(Fernando Meirelles, 2003)

Breathless, highly stylish direction and a fascinating subject make for a compelling movie; however, a more specific and focused screenplay would have made for a more incisive and powerful experience.

**
^{(Recommended)}

Contempt
(Jean-Luc Godard, 1964)

Contempt succeeds, ironically enough, because it fails. The clashes (both narrative and execution-wise) between art and commercialism hamper the film's pacing and characterizations from a conventional standpoint, but in truth, add an unpredictable dynamic and a new layer of complexity to the proceedings; and the story, which follows a screenwriter torn between refusing to write a hack script of Homer's The Odyssey and losing his only source of income, gains resonance by reflecting the battles that Godard must have fought on this, his first (and last) big-budged commercial feature. Special mention must be made of the excellent cast (Bardot captivates, Piccoli is suitably ambiguous, legendary direction Fritz Lang plays himself to great effect), of Godard's trademark playfulness with sight, sound, and editing, and of several brilliant set-pieces (particularily a protracted discussion scene between Piccoli and Bardot, which ebbs with hypnotic rythms). (Contempt succeeds, ironically enough, because it fails. The clashes (both narrative and execution-wise) between art and commercialism hamper the film's pacing and characterizations from a conventional standpoint, but in truth, add an unpredictable dynamic and a new layer of complexity to the proceedings; and the story, which follows a screenwriter torn between refusing to write a hack script of Homer's The Odyssey and losing his only source of income, gains resonance by reflecting the battles that Godard must have fought on this, his first (and last) big-budged commercial feature. Special mention must be made of the excellent cast (Bardot captivates, Piccoli is suitably ambiguous, legendary direction Fritz Lang plays himself to great effect), of Godard's trademark playfulness with sight, sound, and editing, and of several brilliant set-pieces (particularily a protracted discussion scene between Piccoli and Bardot, which ebbs with hypnotic rythms).

****
^{(Highly recommended)}

Cure
(Kiyoshi Kurosawa, 1997)

As with his subsequent film Pulse, Kurosawa shows great skill at manipulating image and sound to create pervasive uneasiness and feelings of emotional disconnection; however, unlike Pulse, the film's cryptic characters and (eventually) metaphysical narrative don't quite focus into a satisfying and haunting climax.

**
^{(Recommended)}

Dead or Alive:
(Takashi Miike, 2001)

Standard yakuza flick whose murky story is but punctuated by moments of jarring originality, hideous perversity, and blacker-than-black comedy; the ending is brilliant.

**
^{(Worth a look.)}

The Decalogue:
(Krzysztof Kieslowski, 1988)

I - Altogether too human story of an atheist father and his genius son that explores the fundamental mysteries of life as seen by faith in God VS the measurable, scientific world view more and more prevalent nowadays. The film's masterstroke is to not simply discuss these concepts, but to dramatize them through characters we actually care about, and to thus give them not only intellectual but emotional power. Of course, this should come as no surprise for those who have seen Kieslowski's other films; his work here is of the same high caliber.

****
^{(A must-see)}

Das Experiment:
(Olivier Hirschbiegel, 2001)

The concept is interesting, but the ideas aren't well developed, and the execution suffers from certain film-school excesses. Still, there's enough quality here to warrant a look.

*
^{(Forgettable)}

Down by Law:
(Jim Jarmusch, 1986)

Offbeat ode to the grungy side of the American dream that, despite a generally slow pace, succeeds in provoking thought and emotion. Great acting from the three main players (with special kudos going to Tom Waits as the downbeat DJ) helps to draw the audience in, and Jim Jarmusch's down-to-earth-yet-quasi-mystical script and subtly stylish direction keeps it there. A great intro to the director's unique sensibilities, and a remarkable film.

***
^{(Highly recommended)}

Fallen Angels:
(Wong Kar-Wai, 1995)

Pseudo-sequel, in structure and free-flowing narrative progression, to Kar-Wai's's superb "Chungking Express". In terms of pure flamboyance of style, this may be the director's most accomplished work; combining soulful, jazzy, smoke-and-mirrors visuals with moody pop songs, his montages often achieve intoxicating levels. The story, which, in contrast to "Chungking"'s policemen, follows an assassin and a petty criminal, is once again divided into two more-or-less individual segments, but Kar-Wai's direction is so fluid that this becomes an asset instead of an issue. Also remarkable is how well, as a whole, the film evokes the ephemeral feeling of modern society's night life; within this thematic context, the final minutes of the film strike surprisingly emotional chords.

***
^{(A must-see)}

The Fifth Element:
(Luc Besson, 1997)

Besson's childlike enthusiasm for the project is obvious in every single one of its details, from the self-consciously quirky acting (Oldman and Holm are especially fun to watch) to the vibrantly stylized action sequences to the fantastic locales, and it makes what could have been an unbearably precious experience not only bearable, but thoroughly enjoyable. For my money, among the most entertaining and memorable space operas in recent years.

***
^{(Superior entertainment)}

Fool's Fire:
(Julie Taymor, 1992)

A remarkable hour-long adaptation of Edgar Allan Poe's short story "Hop-Frog". Taymor, using puppets, models, masks, and other such special effects, recreates to often stunning effect the grotesque yet sad tone of the story. Michael Anderson (of David Lynch, "Twin Peaks" fame) gives a great performance as the titular dwarf, and brings pathos and sympathy to the film.

**
^{(Recommended)}

For A Few Dollars More:
(Sergio Leone, 1965)

An entertaining, if just slightly overlong, entry into the spaghetti western canon by the master filmmaker of the genre. Chock-full of bold close-ups and desolate long shots, anchored by Clint Eastwood's gritty performance, and in many ways defined by Ennio Morricone's superb score, it's a great example of Leone's style and of the pleasures of a classic genre.

**
^{(Recommended)}

From Hell:
(Hughes Bros., 2001)

The screenplay suffers from a lack of focus, and the story is not as fluid as it could have been; however, the fantastic style and spot-on performances by Johnny Depp and Ian Holm save the film.

**
^{(Worth a look)}

Gandhi:
(Richard Attenborough., 1982)

Stately, distinguished and respectful biography of a great man. Attenborough is decidedly old-fashioned in his directorial style, and the film benefits from this. Ben Kingsley is magnetic and brilliant in the title role.

***
^{(Highly recommended)}

Hannibal
(Ridley Scott, 2001)

It's elegantly directed and beautifully stylized - Ridley Scott's signature visuals are in full form here, and his direction invests the film with a full-blooded, baroque atmosphere that's rarely found in Hollywood thrillers; however, script is flawed - gone, for the most part, is the high-intensity intellectual dynamism that made The Silence of the Lambs so electrifying. On the whole, however, the film's aesthetics and atmosphere satisfy.

***
^{(Highly recommended)}

The Hudsucker Proxy
(Coen Bros., 1994)

The visual style is fantastic, as are the performances, and certain scenes posess more comic flair than most comedies, but the actual dramatic content of the film is very slight. The only Coen I'd pass on.

*
^{(Has redeeming facets)}

I Am Cuba:
(Mikhail Kalatozov, 1964)

The film is an obvious propaganda piece, and as its four vignettes progress, its enthusiasm towards socialism and revolution becomes more and more prevalent. However, as contrary as the film's themes may be to my own beliefs, there's no denying that the film is impressively realized: each of the four vignettes is vivid and fascinating, and never once during the 2-hour-plus running time was I bored. And it also helps that the film's camerawork is the most impressive I've ever seen: from towering crane shots to sweeping, extended, fluid tracking shots, the visuals are never less than jaw-dropping.

***
^{(A must-see)}

Ichi The Killer:
(Takashi Miike, 1965)

The most extreme example of Miike's trademark fetishistic violence, gore, and perversity. It might sound off-putting (and to a certain extent, it is), but the film is vivid and unique enough to warrant a look.

**
^{(Worth a look)}

In The Mood for Love:
(Wong Kar-Wai, 2001)

A subtle, sublime masterpiece in which the emotions and conflicts are as exquisitely muted as the visual scheme. Wong Kar-Wai's use of formal repetition is flawless, as are the performances by Maggie Cheung and Tony Leung.

***
^{(A must-see)}

Indiana Jones & The Temple of Doom:
(Steven Spielberg, 1984)

Yes, Temple of Doom is the least of the three Indiana Jones films. It's less funny and cohesive than either of the other installments, and to a certain extent, sacrifices the characters for the sake of action. As such, Temple of Doom would be a pretty weak film ... if the action just wasn't so damn fun. Indeed, the film finds Spielberg at his most cheerfully gruesome, piling on danger, suspense, and a surprising amount of gore with gleeful abandon, and the final hour of Temple of Doom is among the most memorably over-the-top thrill rides in this master's career. The final verdict? Yes, the film is flawed, under-written, and over-acted, but it's fun, and time and time again, this factor wins me over.

***
^{(Superior entertainment)}

The Last Emperor:
(Bernardo Bertolucci, 1987)

Superbly detailed epic that follows the turbulent life of the last emperor of China. Bertolucci's superb direction achieves a fine balance between the personal, the historical, and the cultural aspects of the story, and the production values are superlative. And mention must also be made of the masterful, powerful ending, which is at once knowingly humorous and bitterly ironic. (Note: this review concerns the 218-minute Director's Cut).

****
^{(Highly recommended)}

Lifetimes:
(Zhang Yimou, 1994)

Epic tapestry of four decades of life under changing times and regimes in China; the dramatic arcs are dense at both personal and societal levels; the performances are exemplary, especially from You Ge and Gong Li; Yimou's direction is less impressionistic than in his previous films, but fits the material perfectly. The film is a rich work that continues to resonate long after it's finished.

***
^{(Highly recommended)}

Live Flesh:
(Pedro Almodovar, 1997)

Another masterful, moving feature from Almodovar. Once again, he creates rich, layered characters, places them in complex and ambiguous situations, and directs the ensuing melodrama with compassion and his personal, inimitable flair. The acting works wonders too, with Francesca Neri, Javier Bardem, and Jose Sanchez creating a convincing and dynamic triangle of conflict.

***
^{(Recommended)}

Lost In La Mancha:
(L. Pepe & K. Fulton., 2002)

The culmination of catastrophes that led to the downfall of The Man Who Killed Don Quixote is compelling and bittersweet, and Gilliam's innate charisma is quite present, but the technique never rises above a DVD special feature level. Still worth a look, though - a story as bizarre as this rarely comes by.

*
^{(Don't bother)}

Reviews Continued on Archive Page II