My ur-text for a sleazy future of trashcan fires, black markets, station hijacking, and vicious game show hosts.
The Night of the Hunter opens with the disembodied heads of five children floating in the cosmos and gets weirder from there.
Lovers speak in monologue and monotone. They thrash and sulk in shadows.
Fellini’s 8½ is a head-scraping and memory-swirled portrait of the judgment and shame that comes with creative effort.
“Our myths and conventions are old,” said Antonioni. “And everyone knows that they are indeed old and outmoded. Yet we respect them.”
I cannot shake the airless world of this film that lives in the eerie twilight between calamity and silence.
One of the best films I’ve seen in years. I never thought wearing 3D glasses could be so heartbreaking.
Ghosts in the machine, glitches in the sublime, and rain-streaked neon. Watching Blade Runner 2049 felt like returning to church.
