 Couldn't find much better so here's a bland picture against a wall Director: Mia Hansen-Løve Writer: Mia Hansen-Løve Cinematographer: Pascal Auffray Producer: Oliver Damian, Philippe Martin, and David Thion by Jon Cvack I keep wanting to start a page about Netflix spoiling movies by providing synopses that often extend more than halfway through the film, in this case - spoiler - telling me that the main character commits suicide, which I don’t think I would’ve anticipated for at least the first quarter of the movie. This is the second movie I’ve watched from the French filmmaker Mia Hansen-Løve (a woman filmmaker in case any others wouldn’t guess with). The reason I even mention it is because the first film I saw, Goodbyife, First Love (2011), felt a bit creepy to tell. As mentioned in my thoughts on If Beale Street Could Talk (2018), it just goes to show the importance of having stories told from particular perspectives; allowing us to dive into a long unfamiliar worldview. It also makes the Father of My Children all the more interesting. The plot follows a successful film producer Grégoire Canvel (Louis-Do de Lencquesaing; a man) whose lavish life begins to crumble as he discovers his production company is near bankrupt. We meet his wife Sylvia Canvel (Chiara Caselli) and two girls, Clémence (Alice de Lencquesaing; who’d be in Goodbyife, First Love) and her sister Billie. They have a loving and affectionate relationship, taking weekend trips up to their second home in the country. With two movies in production, including a 19th century period piece, and another Korean film a few weeks out from production, Grégoire learns from his lawyer that the company is in serious financial trouble. With few films bringing in the returns required to pay off over four million Euros in debt, and with his present catalogue already mortgaged, the best he could do is sell the company for only a quarter of what he owes. Mia Hansen-Løve does an exquisite job of building the world of a film producer, and capturing the spirit of independent production. It’s a small operation, employing less than ten people, and yet always filled with people coming in for meetings; including a young writer/director who Grégoire invited in to collaborate on a project and gets caught in the whirlwind of his collapse. Soon the ailing finances smother Grégoire, and knowing there’s no way out, he kills himself by shooting himself in the head on a random sidewalk in the middle of the street. The family is later notified and so begins the second half of the story, as Sylvia attempts to rescue the business while consoling her daughters. It’s here that the film takes a bit of a dip, as while I never hoped it’d enter into melodrama, there’s a peculiar distance the family has from what just happened. We never see them or even get a suggestion of their grief, whether the wife or the daughters. Sylvia tries to make deals that buy time or at least preserve the company’s existence, and the older daughter Clémence starts going out with the young filmmaker, who without a signed contract, can’t make his film. We never hear all that much from Belle. Later Clémence discovers that her father had lived a double life, having another son with a different woman. In the end, the company is sold, and the finances appear cleared out, and I was left wondering what to feel for Sylvia and her daughters. What I assume had to be denial, came across as indifference; leaving me to wonder if they were all just putting on an act in the earliest scenes as they demonstrated their love. And yet that seems too cynical. It’s as though the story didn’t know what to do with the characters once their father was gone. BELOW: Couldn't find much beyond the trailer, so here ya go Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page
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 Unfortunately, there's like two hi-def images on Google Director: Alfonso Cuarón Writer: Alfonso Cuarón, Timothy J. Sexton, David Arata, Mark Fergus, and Hawk Ostby; based on The Children of Men by P. D. James Cinematographer: Emmanuel Lubezki Producer: Hilary Shor, Iain Smith, Tony Smith, Marc Abraham, and Eric Newman by Jon Cvack As mentioned in my thoughts on Roma (2018), I hadn’t revisited Children of Men since making my movie Road to the Well (2016) and directing other projects; providing that magnificent experience of grasping how technically phenomenal the story is. Not just from the cinematography, but the art direction, costumes, story, and performances. I think I had seen the movie once or twice before this round. I remembered the masked people in cages, the long take in the car, the Strawberry Cough, and the birthing sequence. For some reason I feel as though I missed it’s connection. I keep thinking this movie was made in 2010, but quadruple checking, I’m surprised to see it was 2006; while Bush was president with record low approval numbers; knee deep in the Middle East, a year out from the Katrina disaster, and rolling out increasingly pervasive intelligence techniques. I was getting more into politics at the time, swinging far and away from my conservative family. In terms of history, the facts are that George Bush approved the torture of prisoners of war and engaged in a counterproductive campaign that killed over 5,500 members of the military and over 150,000 Iraqi civilians; all while creating the PATRIOT Act which has impeded on our fourth Amendment rights. Children of Men takes place in 2027, when the world has gone infertile due to a pandemic of antibiotic-resistant plagues. The U.K. has become a police state, instituting strict checkpoints to repel and expel any and all immigrants. The film begins in a coffee shop, with a bunch of the patrons watching the latest bad news regarding terrorist attacks. Theo Faron (Clive Owen) waits for his coffee and exits, getting about a block down before the coffee shop explodes. Someone had planted a bomb that could have killed him, though still he continues to go to work, lasting but a moment before requesting to go home where he’s then kidnapped by a group of left wing terrorists named “Fishes”, led by Julian Taylor (Julianne Moore); providing one of the first great - and incredibly simple - set pieces; a small windowed room with newspaper taped up on the glass and a yellow bulb burning bright within. Describing this, it’s only Emmanuel Lubezki who could make such a setting feel so fresh. We learn that Theo used to be a member of a left wing radical faction; electing to become a regular old government bureaucrat instead; opting to ignore all that’s going on around him. It’s where the role is fascinating, as my memory of the film up to revisiting was a much less advanced world. It’s through Cuarón's phenomenal direction, allowing the camera to take the subjective view of Theo that allows it work. There are the disturbing images of people in cages and violent streets, but it all seems to operate within the background. Theo isn’t interested because he can’t be interested. Julia offers Theo money in exchange for getting a woman she knows some transit papers. Theo rejects the offer, though makes you feel a passionate concern and desire for the other person, though they only talk for minutes. He goes on to visit his old friend and former cartoonist Jason Palmer (Michael Caine) who now sells pot, grown in a cozy house in the middle of the woods, providing the one bit of escape Theo can find in the crumbling world. He decides to hit up his government minister cousin who lives an extravagant life in a massive (albeit sterile and claustrophobic) apartment or condo of sorts; eating beautiful food while looking upon an industrial wasteland with a floating pig (straight from Pink Floyd’s “Animals” album cover; not to mention some Banksy art years before his widespread acclaim). The cousin agrees to the transport papers, though they require Theo as an escort; which he uses to leverage even more money. The Fishes agree and discover the woman, Kee (Clare-Hope Ashitey) is pregnant. Grasping the significance, Theo joins Julian, the armed radical Luke (Chiwetel Ejiofor) and a midwife Miriam (Pam Ferris) as they attempt to have her meet up with the Human Project; an organization determined to solve the infertile pandemic. So begins one of the two of some of the greatest single takes in the history of cinema; as to do this day I have no idea how they accomplished this technically (and I never wanted to look in fear of spoiling the magic). Riding down the rural road, surrounded by forest, Theo sits in the left shotgun while Julian’s behind him. She removes a ping pong ball and the two play a game of blowing and catching it in their mouths. Soon the ball drops and the two begin making out and the camera pans back to the front of the car where dozens of motorcycles with riders holding weapons cruise by and fire toward their position. Still going, Luke stops and reverses. Julian catches a bullet to the head and dies and Theo fights off some of the motorcyclists, where again in the same take, he opens his door to slam them off their bikes before Luke finally stops the car and the camera - still rolling - gets out from the car with them to decide what to do. Luke decides to take them to their terrorist outpost in rural London where through another brilliant use of the camera, Cuarón allows us to join Theo as he sneaks around the house; soon hearing that they plan to kill both Theo and Kee once she has the baby in order to use him as leverage in the pending revolution. Theo decides to act quick, waking up Kee in the middle of the night who escapes, providing another thrilling moment, which is straight out of a first person shooter game; as we remain with Kee and Theo while they bounce from car to car looking for keys, all while hearing some terrorist guards having a discussion throughout the complex. In a wide, Theo and Kee ride in a car down a hill while the others chase them down the hill, hoping to catch up before they can start up the vehicle and gain some speed. Theo drives on to Jason’s to help buy some time, though it’s not long until the terrorists catch up. Jason gives them their car and points them to a way out. Later distracting the terrorists with his charming self, then getting shot dead and Theo suddenly realizes how close he is to all he’s been ignoring. They’re led to an abandoned school where Kee’s water breaks; later meeting a Romanian woman Marichka who helps them with the bird; who, by this point, we assume has the worst intentions. With the revolution launching an offensive against the British she leads them to a dingy apartment where we watch the full action of the baby coming out, which seems a bit too much until you think of how good it looks. Later they meet a man named Syd (Peter Mullan) who learns of the bounty on their head, who attempts to turn them over to the Fishes until Theo clobbers him in the head with an old car battery. Nevertheless, the fishes catch up to them, stealing the baby as British soldiers close in on their position and so begins one of the most impressive - if not the most impressive - single take ever captured on video, which I somehow completely forgot about while getting sucked into the story. The Fishes led by Luke kidnap Kee and her baby at gunpoint as gunfire pours in from all directions. He works his way through the labyrinthian urban streets as Fishes lead the soldiers onward, ending up in a rundown apartment complex and heads onto a public bus to take cover where someone gets shot. Blood covers the camera and Theo exits, discovering a British tank dialed in on the Fishes position; blowing up the entrance and Theo heads inside, up the stairs, searching for Kee and then finding her next to Luke. The greatest long takes function as some of the greatest passages in literature or even the greatest scenes from film; in which they transcend language by pushing the craft to its very brink; where most can agree of their beauty. A scene like this is something where I assume even the below average movie watch would find it incredible, even without ever realizing its marvelous technical feat Theo survives the ordeal, escaping with Kee and the baby through the sewer system, though getting shot along the way. They make it to The Human Project. The baby survives but Theo doesn’t; sacrificing his life for another as a result; the way those closest to him did as well. It expresses such a poetic message - that in a time when humans can no longer procreate, to sacrifice one’s life to amend the problem is the greatest gift someone could provide. My friend watched this film about a year ago, just as Trump’s immigration debate started up once again. Most have now forgotten how disastrous the Bush administration was. They look past Katrina, 9/11, the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, Abu Ghraib and its torture policy, the PATRIOT Act, and the failure to get Bin Laden or end Islamic Radicalism. We now remember Bush as a decent man who upheld the office and the whole criticism seems so weak. I’m sure most of us wish we could pass on candies to former political opponents in order to gain the respect of all. So we see elitism, and like Theo’s cousin, those who live in guarded communities and in the high rise tower are completely detached, watching the world burn below. Trump’s radical immigration policy best connects to this story. Many ask what they themselves would have done if they were in Germany during Hitler’s rise. The sad truth is few of us are doing anything now. People say they are burnt out and tired of the endless scandals (this entry was written two years ago); hoping for 2020 to arrive so things can return to normal, and refusing to accept that Trump has demonstrated how frail our country is. What scares me isn’t Trump, but what Trump is showing other evil geniuses; that our institutions can be corrupted and the checks and balances can easily fall into line. The question is what happens when climate changes make a more dire impact and millions of refugees flee from the inhabitable desert, or if another global financial crisis hits - if the wrong person is in charge what becomes of other people’s rights and how much will we care? It’s wonderful to imagine we’ll change like Theo, but then I think of how many other people he knew who never changed at all; who kept watching the world crumble. I’m not sure when a setting like Children of Men will occur (if ever, of course), but minus the infertility, of all dystopian tales, this seems like the most prescient. BELOW: Cinema at its finest Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Director: Josh Safdie Writer: Josh Safdie and Eleonore Hendricks; Josh Safdie, Andy Spade, and Anthony Sperduti Cinematographer: Brett Jutkiewicz Producer: Brett Jutkiewicz, Sam Lisenco, Zach Treitz, and Josh Safdie by Jon Cvack NOTE: I wrote this about 18 months ago before seeing either Good Time (2017), or of course, Uncut Gems (2019). I had received Good Time (2018) from Netflix, reading about it on a few lists and watching a couple of interviews with the filmmakers. I started it up and so began the type of movie where within ten seconds I knew I was watching something incredible; so much so that I turned the film off, wanting to watch it with my girlfriend, finding it on Amazon Prime and returning the disc; never syncing up with my girlfriend as we were still trying to get through the last five Sopranos episodes. I’m approaching an age where my generation of filmmakers are starting to come to fruition. Ari Aster’s Hereditary (2018) served as a fantastic debut from the 30-year-old filmmaker, 32-year-old Damien Chazelle is at the top of Hollywood with Whiplash and LaLa Land, and I’m now discovering that the 32-year-old Safdie’s have just released their fifth feature. They have a fascinating though mysterious story in that after graduating from Boston University, they were approached by Partner & Spade to create a commercial. They were provided a $200,000 budget, in which they produced the commercial for 10% of that and took the rest to make The Pleasure of Being Robbed, opting to shoot on film and making you understand how they spent a $180,000 on a 65-minute mumblecore film. It would premiere at SXSW and win the Grand Jury Prize, and so their careers were launched. The Pleasure of Being Robbed is about a kleptomaniac Eléonore (Eleonore Hendricks) who wanders the streets of New York, stealing people's purses and bags. In the opening scene, she approaches a random woman on the street, acting like they know each other, hugs her and say they should hang out, before walking off, bag in hand. I get the feeling that this was actually a random woman they approached rather than an actor, which is genius. She then steals a man from Fifth Avenue’s bag as his doorman helps him unload the car, taking it back to her apartment along with a bag full of kittens. Later she steals some grapes from a fruit stand and somewhere between all this, she plays in a ping pong parlor. We then get into the meat of the story when she steals a pair of Volvo car keys and bumps into an old friend Josh (Josh Safdie) who helps her track down the car and drive her home. They spend the night together and she leaves the next day, heading to a park where she conspicuously snoops through a mother’s apartment who screams for help. Eléonore gets arrested and the cops stop at a zoo where she begs them to let her visit for ten minutes, which for some reason one of the cop grants, gets booked and then released and that’s it. The Pleasure of Being Robbed came out at the peak of mumblecore, offering a story that’s more of a slice of life, in which a shaky camera and mumbling characters are combined into a meandering narrative; often excused when compared to the New Wave or Rossellini's post-war work, as though just because it’s rough, shaky, and handheld with no plot, there’s a need to celebrate it. While Eléonore was an interesting character, I knew no more going into the film than coming out. I’m not sure what I was supposed to learn other than that there are some weird people out there with complex personalities. It’s not a bad movie, it just blends in with all other mumblecore filmmakers - early Duplass brothers, Joe Swanberg, and Andrew Bujalski. Few of their films are bad, but many of them blend together; in which it’s more about individual images and moments than the grand narrative or style. Perhaps that’s the point. If pressed, given their down to Earth personalities and humor, it almost feels like the Safdie's pulled a fast one on the film world; to make us think we were watching something heavy and profound, when it was all meant to be meaningless. Then again, when I'm pulling the credits, I notice Benny's name is not on any of the film, so maybe he was the missing ingredient. BELOW: Weird though prescient scene of where the Safdie's would go Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Director: Lars von Trier Writer: Lars von Trier Cinematographer: Anthony Dod Mantle Producer: Vibeke Windeløv by Jon Cvack I happened to arrive on my waning Lars Von Trier list only weeks after the reception of the director’s latest cause célèbre The House that Jack Built (2018). Again eliciting a divisive response and numerous walkouts during its premiere. This was the filmmaker’s first return to Cannes after making the infamous Nazi comment during his Melancholia premiere after discovering he was no longer of Jewish German descent, but rather just a German, causing him to express his sympathy for Hitler’s demise, trying to get off the topic, and sarcastically referring to himself as a Nazi much to the horror of his cast. Manderlay was the second in what was suppose to be Von Trier’s “American History” trilogy. It kicked off with Dogville (2003), which while starting off strong, just couldn’t maintain its momentum for the three-hour run time; descending into some brutal and needless rape scenes while exploring a storyline in which each character possesses some degree of evil. Like Manderlay, it was shot on a soundstage with a minimalist set and cheap digital cameras, which while effective for a little while, also couldn’t keep up with the running time. Ultimately, my eyes and mind got bored filling in all the blanks. The second in the series follows Grace Mulligan (Bryce Dallas Howard) and her father Mr. Mulligan (Willem Dafoe) after they had burned down Dogville after both James Caan and Nicole Kidman opted out of the production. They arrive outside the gates of a town called Manderlay, discovering a woman trying to escape, yelling about a man who’s being whipped for stealing a bottle of wine. They enter the town to discover that, although the Civil War is 70 years past, slavery continues. Grace meets the master of the house, Mam (Lauren Bacall), and is so disgusted by the situation that she decides to stay to try and provide liberty. Shortly after, Mam dies and the Uncle Tom-like character Wilhelm (Danny Glover) takes over. Mam has left behind a book regarded as “Mam’s Law” which you can check on the Wikipedia page, but essentially describes every type of black person (not using this word) Mam had to deal with. Each of these groups contains a leader who form a type of city council, which somehow Grace starts to lead; attempting to teach the former slaves about freedom and democracy. I had to watch this movie in about four scattered chunks, as a mixture of boredom and offense played so heavily that I can’t provide much in the way of details. Grace grows frustrated while the black people remain completely helpless - they’re illiterate, struggle to learn, or even carry out the most basic democratic task. I don’t doubt that any individual kept in bondage could have severe mental damage or disabilities, but I just don’t understand what the purpose of this story was; made all the worst by von Trier’s Nazi comment. The 90s were fraught with Southern White Savior films in the 90s - A Time to Kill (1996), Mississippi Burning (1988), The Ghost of Mississippi (1996), and others all explored the idea of relatively helpless black males finally saved when a team of white lawyers came around. This isn’t to discount the work that these individuals did in assisting with Civil Rights, but it seems we’re long past due for films that focus on the black heroes from the period. Manderlay embodies this icky device as a privileged white woman comes into town, so overwhelmed by guilt that she tries to teach the helpless black people about the basic tenets of government who struggle to grasp the tiniest concept until she understands how they learn and saves the community. While she goes on to experience some cheap moral dilemma when one of her “students” (for lack of a better word) breaks the very law she created, it led to an even more offensive scene as the woman whips one of the black men; at first remorseful and then developing a strange and unsettling sense of sadistic pleasure And again, we’re forced to discover another disgusting Uncle Tom character in Wilhelm who we learn has been the one preserving Mam’s Law out of fear of what freedom would bring about. There were interesting moments which explored the perils of government and the challenges of community organization, but ultimately, it felt far too condescending. Part of me thinks that my reaction was the exact point; as in the end, we see a montage of the last 50 years of race relations, realizing that we have a long way to go. Perhaps Grace’s character reflected most of us; believing we're helping but failing to offer the revolutionary change required. Nevertheless, it's a subpar allegory more effectively explored in Get Out in which white people want to think they’re helping when really they’re perpetuating the problem. It’s films like this, and when I think of other white-oriented racial movies, that I realize that ultimately, the wrong people have been telling these stories; or at least, not enough black people have had the chance to lend their perspective. It’s why a movie like 12 Years a Slave (2013) is so effective; told from a position that understands that racism is far more complex than simply a byproduct of slavery or ignorance. It pervades our country like a virus, and unfortunately, I do not believe that white people either fully comprehend the problem the way implicit bias can have overt and systemic ramifications. BELOW: A BTS doc I didn't watch but I bet is better than the movie Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Director: Sean Baker and Shih-Ching Tsou Writer: Sean Baker and Shih-Ching Tsou Producer: Sean Baker and Shih-Ching Tsou by Jon Cvack I haven’t yet seen Tangerine (2015) as of this writing, but I consider The Florida Project (2017) as one of the best films of 2017. There was a refreshing and unique voice within that film which has been missing over the last decade or so; in which I saw a side of life - and American life, specifically - of which I’ve never seen before; somehow combining the innocence of a coming of age story with the frightening realism of our lower classes. The film piqued my interest in Sean Baker. Many believe Tangerine was his first film when in fact he actually made six films prior to The Florida Project, his first being Four Letter Words (2000) which I can’t seem to find, and then the $3,000 feature Take Out which would win at Slamdance and go on to be nominated for a John Cassavetes award at the Independent Spirit Awards. The film is shot entirely on the type of nascent digital cameras which you could find at Best Buy for under a couple thousand bucks, opening up with Chinese immigrant Ming Ding (Charles Jang) approached by some debt collecting thugs, demanding the three hundred dollars that Ming’s late in paying, giving him until the end of the day to pay it off. Ming works at a NYC Chinese restaurant as a biker deliverer. The restaurant is led by Big Sister (Wang-Thye Lee), the cook is Wei (Justin Wan), and the other deliverer is Young (Jeng-Hua Yu). Ming explains his situation to Young, who decides to give Ming all of his deliveries, and so we follow Big Sister taking orders, Wei cooking the delicious looking food (you will want Chinese after this), and Ming delivers. This goes for nearly 90 minutes as Ming meets a range of New Yorkers, from sweet to rude; the interactions nothing beyond a few seconds, and that’s about it. Looking at the Wikipedia page synopsis, it’s funny to note that two-thirds of the synopsis describes the first five minutes, and the last third describe the next 85 minutes. I want to emphasize again that I see think The Florida Project is both the best film of the year, along with making me excited for where else Baker will take us (especially after this film and knowing Tangerine’s general story), but in terms of this film - I’m simply in disbelief that it has gained the laureates it has. So little happens in this movie beyond the first and last few minutes, that all anyone could really celebrate is the banality of working a mundane and repetitive job. What I saw was a filmmaker who had very little money, hoping to shoot a feature about an area of life we rarely see. But in terms of the overall craft, even how the cheap digital camera would be used, it looks like it was shot by pre-film schoolers. Frankly - it’s just a boring movie that could just as easily have been a ten or twenty minute short with the same message, if not more powerful. I can’t fault the film too much, as deserved or not, the film shined a spotlight on Sean Baker and provided him the path toward The Florida Project. But all those filmmakers that took so much time to lead a crew, craft a story and images you can’t help feeling frustrated that a film like this gets celebrated while so many other engaging stories are vastly overlooked. BELOW: One of the few trailers that gives you the entire plot Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Introduced the modern running zombie Director: Zack Snyder Writer: James Gunn; based on Dawn of the Dead by George A. Romero Cinematographer: Matthew F. Leonetti Producer: Richard P. Rubinstein, Marc Abraham, and Eric Newman by Jon Cvack The film starts back up after the accident. Ana exits and meets police officer Kenneth Hall (Ving Rhames) who leads her through a bike tunnel before they bump into another armed trio - a middle-aged television salesman Michael (Jake Weber), an armed gangster Andre (or so it’s suggested; Mekhi Phifer) and his pregnant Russian wife Luda (Inna Korobkina). Hall wants to go to find his brother at Fort Pastor; but the others warn against it, as all the other towns have been overrun. Instead they’re heading to the mall. Inside they’re greeted by a trio of security guards - Terry (Kevin Zegers) and another character/actor I cannot seem to find (even after going through the extensive list on Wikipedia), led by C.J. (Michael Kelly) who refuse to let in any more members in their faction; taking them as captives and imprisoning them in one of the department stores. Terry begins to doubt the strategy. Michael Kelly plays the perfect smart asshole (not to be confused with a smart ass) who goes through a wonderful arc; from complete slime to a reliable friend who sacrifices himself for the others. It’d be so easy for the role to have been generic and amoral, but rather Kelly creates a complex character, managing his fear the best he can; as though an aspiring cop who might either be on the verge of the police academy, or had one too many screws loose when testing to get in. Soon, after seeing a van with people in need. C.J. refuse to accept them until Ana and the others retrieve the guns and rush to help the others. Another caravan enters, including an actual smartass and rich shob Steve Marcus (Ty Burrell ), his hot and soon to be mistress Monica (Kim Poirier), a closeted gay man Glen (R. D. Reid), and a sick older woman Norma (Jayne Eastwood), along with a bitten father and his daughter who provide the film’s first somewhat interesting moral dilemma - being only 99% sure of a bitten person turning into a zombie, should they kill them? They imprison the security guards back in their office and soon take over the mall; providing the fantasy I’m sure most everyone imagines would be the greatest part - able to take and use whatever you want, with enough space to live the hedonistic life you desire. The mall provides an accessible metaphor to any discussion. Even as a teenager, I recall discussing the generic idea with friends. People are drawn to the mall by their instincts, driven by their hunger to consume, and the zombies, driven by an insatiable hunger for flesh, knows it’s exactly where to find them. It’s a bizarre symbol - as it operates as both a grand comment and a logical action; both for the people to go and for the zombies to arrive. Yet even if there were decades worth of food and water, or even sex, I was left wondering how long it’d be until boredom kicked in; when characters like C.J., Glen, and Hall will never get to have anyone. How long would they stay put before wanting to see what else was out in the world that could provide them meaning? Parallel to the story, though told through an obtuse plot, Frank and Luda live quietly in a back room of one of the department stores. Luda has become increasingly sick and all the closer to delivering her child. By labor, Luda has fully transformed into a zombie as Frank has constrained her in the hopes of delivering the baby. He succeeds, though unfortunately it’s a zombie infant, and when the caravan’s truck driver discovers the site, she shoots Luda dead, causing Frank to open up. The two kill each other, leaving the baby to be discovered and killed by the others. During the infanticide, the power goes out, leaving C.J., Michael, and the actor I can’t seem to find to head into a parking garage to reset the generator. They discover a friendly and healthy dog before a platoon of zombies chase them down, which they soon burn alive. Hammond’s one close buddy is a fellow marine Andy across the street. The two communicate via binoculars and a whiteboard. When Andy says he’s running low on food, they decide to send the dog over with some food; though the dog’s closest - and obsessive - owner is the daughter who lost her father, who doesn’t want him to die. Nevertheless, they send the dog over and the girl takes the caravan truck to chase him down; an action that is the film’s greatest weakness, as aside from the cool sequence to rescue the girl, I just couldn’t fully buy someone so fully willing to risk their own life for a dog they’ve known for a couple weeks. It like it could have worked just as well if they went over to rescue both the dog and an unbitten Andy, who then could have fallen like the guy who’s name I can’t find does, all in the spirit of one last courageous save. Better than allowing the film to take out the character I can’t name. Either way, the tragedy claims the closeted gay man’s life as well, and the group decides that it’s better to try and take Steve’s yacht to an island somewhere in Lake Michigan. They’ll armor up a couple of mall shuttles and head to the marina in the hopes of reaching the boat and sailing off to safety. Now aside from the glaringly obvious question of how they plan to exactly feed themselves by living on a small island off Lake Michigan (I guess I’m willing to believe they might one day do supply missions back to the mainland), this is an amazingly cynical move by the film. Aside from leaving the characters to live happily ever after in the mall, ultimately it does seem like the smarter solution that has posed little risk since they arrived; if not for anything else beyond the massive S.O.S. painted on the mall’s roof, which - unless every human in the area died - seems an inevitable solution to their problem, requiring patience, if nothing else. I also think this might have been the filmmakers’ cynical intention; as their attempt to escape from the mall results is their doom, reflected in the brilliant closing credit sequence. They head out by shuttle, attempting to drive through an army of thousands of zombies, all determined to eat their flesh, and requiring C.J. to throw a propane tank bomb into the crowd to help them drive forward. It works and they cruise on, but one of the vans tips and in a matter of moments, everyone except the daughter, Terry, Steve, and Ana reach the boat; even Michael is forced to stay back, having been bitten while helping the others escape. They take off and it cuts to black, and seconds later, the film cuts into a found footage short; where someone finds Steve’s old camcorder; filming the crew as they run out of water and food, finally reaching the island, believing they're safe, until a mass of zombies comes out of the woods; killing them all an ostensibly ending any chance for a sequel. The $25 million movie earned over $100 million, and yet there was never a follow-up. Nevertheless, it was a rare definitive ending, in a series that thrives on leaving just enough room for one more. While I had my doubts for a few years, I’m swinging back to thinking this is one of the greatest remakes of all time - up there with Oceans Eleven, The Thing, coincidentally, 2018’s A Star is Born which I just saw hours before finishing this up. It’s a display of Snyder’s once reserved talent, in which he instead relied on an exciting action-horror story that could get by with minimal CGI (thank God) and great set pieces, and a grainy/sick feel that I failed to notice any the previous times watching it (I now want to blame my old roommate and I's shitty Westinghouse TV for the poor experience). I still think its Snyder’s best work, and I'm left wishing he’d come back for a Day of the Dead remake. It’s one of the 00s greatest horror films, and definitely in my top fifteen, possibly top ten, of all time. Give it a few years, and the cheeseball effects and music soon seem vintage and cool. BELOW: Full cylinder horror Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  As usual, half of a good horror film are good characters Director: Zack Snyder Writer: James Gunn; based on Dawn of the Dead by George A. Romero Cinematographer: Matthew F. Leonetti Producer: Richard P. Rubinstein, Marc Abraham, and Eric Newman by Jon Cvack The last time I watched this film was for my birthday years back in my first apartment in LA.I had long considered it the greatest remake ever made, featuring one of the greatest opening credit sequences of all time. It was one of the first films I watched on BluRay and with half a dozen people over who I thought it’d be one of the better horror screening experiences of my life. Yet it was shortly after that awful helicopter POV insert while they’re all standing on the mall’s roof that I had a feeling that this film and the curse of cheap 00s digital effects had finally exhibited the initial symptoms of millenial’s aging cinema. By midway through the movie, I stopped the film and requested that we switch over DVD, convinced that the movie looked so bad that it had impacted the experience. I was convinced that it was a bad transfer, with the BluRay costing only $8 and including the DVD as well (a rare bargain, at the time), and after a long debate of how I was wrong (which I was), being my birthday, I was able to switch out the discs. Sure enough, though likely due to confirmation bias, I recall the film playing better; with at least of the people listening to the debate agreeing (though perhaps because they felt bad for me). Admittedly, something remained wrong with the film; as it seemed to have lost the badass edge it once had upon release; which I think the proliferation of zombie content, specifically the walking dead, likely contributed to. I’m not sure what made me want to return to the movie, as I honestly haven’t even put the thing on for what has to be nearly six years since then, other than the strange desire for the familiar and fun. Like most, my favorite part of the film is the excitement it creates; to seek refuge in an abandoned mall with most things you could want, all while zombies linger outside, wanting to eat you. I can’t find more words than that; it’s a feeling that has remained since I first saw the original in high school. I struggle to think of a more exciting and fun setting for a zombie movie to take place; it’s a location appreciated and shared by all walks of life. I put in the BluRay wondering if I should even just stream it, still a bit convinced that the transfer was bad. Sure enough, as the film opens up at the hospital and we meet nurse Ana Clark (Sarah Polley) whose doctor fails to empathize that she’s an hour over shift and anxious to get home. The first thing I noticed this time around were the dominant green walls, shot with a bleached out look that is a bit jarring at first. Again, I turned off the movie and put in the DVD, hoping I was right about the transfer, and all I saw was a shittier version of the same thing, so I went back to the BluRay and let it play. Ana exits the hospital and sees a pair of legs sticking out an ambulance. I recall the first time watching, thinking it was a dead body and Snyder was getting right to it. A call comes in and we see it’s a man napping. He pops up and heads out, and what you realize the second time around is realizing that they’re likely going to a zombie attack and will soon die. She heads home and meets her husband who appears to work in construction. They live in a freshly developed middle class Milwaukee suburb. Ana is greeted by one of their kid neighbors on rollerblades who shows Ana how she can skate backwards. Ana heads inside and greets her husband; the pair exhibiting the perfect amount of chemistry without the hackneyed platitudes. She’s able to get three days off and he’s tired from work. The two make love in the shower and then pass out. The next morning, they’re greeted by who appears to the kid neighbor, working her way down the dark hallway before revealing her infected face and pouncing at the husband. Ana tries her best to save him, watching as the blood floods from his neck as she realizes there’s nothing she can do. He turns into a zombie and chases her into the bathroom and she hops out a window (leaving me wondering what married couple takes the first floor bedroom, but whatever; bit of a logic snafu). She hops into the car and in another effect that completely bombs in age, we see the town on fire, with CGI flames emanating all throughout the distance. No worries, cause it shifts and Ana speeds off, chased by a zombie, and we see her entire neighborhood under attack, then cutting to God’s eye as she speeds down a hallway, and a car t-bones another, narrowing missing her, and crashing into a gas station which explodes, causing Ana to spin off and crash into a ditch. So begins the greatest opening credits of all time as Johnny Cash’s “The Man Comes Around” plays over a series of images of civilization falling into chaos, and while some of the images have become stale to the genre, it embodies the film’s spirit; pumping us up for what’s to come; serving as a type of overture. If a few of the clips were replaced, it could remain just as strong. Continue to Part 2... BELOW: One of the best credit intros of all time Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  There're like three images on Google from the film, so here's one of them Director: Volker Schlöndorff Writer: Wolfgang Kohlhaase and Volker Schlöndorff Cinematographer: Andreas Höfer Producer: Arthur Hofer, Emmo Lempert, and Friedrich-Carl Wachs by Jon Cvack A strange washing over moment in our nation’s history was the rise of left-wing terrorism throughout the 70s with groups like the Weather Underground in the United States or Red Army Faction (RAF) in Germany, inspiring such narratives as Sydney Lumet’s Running on Empty (1988) Best Foreign Film Nominee The Baader Meinhof Complex (2009). While the Weather Underground never killed anyone through their bombings, the RAF murdered 34 people. It’s hard to fathom domestic political terrorism in the states today, not to say Mass Shootings can’t be connected to the idea or to discount Oklahoma City, but to imagine bombs being planted on a regular basis by an underground militia is a bizarre concept; something I imagine might receive significantly more action from the right than our current domestic terrorism issue at hand (I’m writing this a couple of weeks after the El Paso shooting). When hearing these stories I often try to think what it’d take for me to become weaponized; to turn my politics into violent action in order to prove a point that I hold dear. I already find extremism frightening when it comes in the form of words and tiki torches, let alone the rise in white supremacist attacks and promotion. While home for Christmas, my mother received a cryptic letter looking like it was written by a four-year-old. She thought it was funny and I smiled until she opened it and discovered a flyer for a KKK organization in Indiana. How they got our address is creepy enough, and then I see on Facebook that this stuff is floating all over the Midwest. Both far extremes contain hate in their hearts; where at a certain point it doesn’t matter whether it’s because of the color of a person’s skin or because of that person’s hate that the other believes murder is justifiable. I always wonder at what point such a shift occurs, knowing it exceeds even the wildest, most intense and heated political debates and toward direct, irrational action. What Volker Schlöndorff’s film asks is what does someone do after all of the mayhem? The Legend of the Rita involves Red Army Faction terrorist Rita Vogt (Bibiana Beglau) who carries out a series of bank robberies, kidnappings, and guerilla attacks in West Germany to continue the fight against capitalism. The group has been together for a while, going so far as to break Rita’s boyfriend out of prison, escaping to East Germany where they meet their benefactors who feel as though they’re battling Nazi Germany. Unfortunately, the change is slow, if not irrelevant, and Rita knows that the cause is dying. They either can continue to keep fighting, living a perpetual nomadic existence and hope they’re never caught, or give up and try and reintegrate into society. Having entered into my thirties, I’ve reached a strange crossroads in which I feel the idealism of my youth, in which I believed anything was possible both politically and professionally, has now faded a bit. The dream isn’t completely dead, but there is a demand to accept that there’s a very good chance my life will settle with the majority; the dreams of writing and directing remain, but I also know that to continue the pursuit means giving up what could potentially have devastating consequences in the future. I’ve given up seeing my parents and sister more than once a year; a good-paying job with benefits and that could help with retirement; and a life that might possess more opportunity to create memories through travel and adventure. I don’t mind the decision. I’d be a liar if I said it doesn’t cross my mind on a daily basis that maybe I should go get a regular job in order to provide for those other things that I’ve given up for the last seven years. I’m giving myself a decade to see where I get, though in full honesty I don’t feel like I’m all that close. And I’m sure that’s how many people feel. Some never trying at all, others giving it a year or two, some going longer. Not everyone can actualize their dreams as there are simply too few spots and too many people. Beyond the immorality, I understand committing yourself fully to something in the hope that it could result in something grander and then having to accept that it likely will not happen. In the case of Rita, it was seeing West Germany gain the upper hand as authorities close in on their organization. She volunteers to go back to East Germany, taking up the very occupation she despises in the capitalist system: working in a factory, operating as a cog in the machine, completing the same menials task for eight hours a day, making hardly enough to buy the booze that will help her forget the monotony. She befriends an alcoholic Tatjana (Nadja Uhl) whose mind has been rotted by the repetition. The two eventually fall in love until an old lover is killed and makes the news. She takes up another identity at a state daycare center where she meets a graduate student and pro-communist Jochen Pettka (Alexander Beyer). During a trip to the Soviet Union Rita meets a past RAF member who, similar to the Tatjana, is struggling under the commaunist rule. Quickly things start to fall apart, as the West Germany authorities work with the East Germans to find the terrorists; leaving them vulnerable in the land they were fighting for and Rita ultimately doomed. In Goodbye, Lenin! (2003) the filmmakers show a pair of siblings that try to save their communist mother from the oppressive Soviet regime by creating an alternative communist world in West Germany; essentially convincing her that she was still living under the state. It was one of the first films that demonstrated political relativism to me and the ways in which anyone desperate or impressionable enough can remain loyal to the most dangerous ideas. In the BBC documentary The Power of Nightmares (2004), the filmmakers show how religious extremism in any form can demand blind and dangerous obedience, whether on the Christian or Islamic Right. On Wikipedia, a user made an interesting editorial that Rita never despises the East German system; that regardless of her friends and loved ones who were struggling, she couldn’t accept that it was the better option against capitalism; and she was willing to die for that idea. While the film does a pretty good job of demonstrating the inner struggle of holding on to the end of a rope, it never really demonstrates why her loyalty remains so strong. Then again, what reason could there possibly be, other than providing some bizarre sense of purpose? In a time like this, when political tribalism is reaching an all-time, The Legend of Rita is a gripping example of where this form of blind obedience can lead; not just to the deaths, but to the slow decay of someone who’s so reluctant to work with others in order to try and create something better; in which the fear of change leads to doom. BELOW: Slim pickings on the YouTube, so here's a trailer Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Shot nearly 20 years ago and still far far better than the Battle of Winterfell Director: Peter Jackson Writer: Fran Walsh, Philippa Boyens, and Peter Jackson; based on The Fellowship of the Ring by J. R. R. Tolkien Cinematography: Andrew Lesnie Producer: Barrie M. Osborne, Peter Jackson, Fran Walsh, Tim Sanders by Jon Cvack Continued from The Fellowship of the Ring... Hours before writing this I finished "The Return of the King" (1955) and am just as pissed that Peter Jackson left out the "The Scorching of the Shire" chapter as when I first finished the trilogy. It’s a book that’s sad to finish, as the world is so vivid and real that it hurts to realize there’s no more to discover. I’ve read "The Silmarillion" (1977) and I returned to "The Hobbit" (1937), and I know his son took some of his unfinished tales, but Tolkien himself had published nothing close to the quality of Lord of the Rings. It was his life’s work where you can feel how much time and craft he invested in creating the world. It reads like a great work of history, to which other works of history could find influence. The Two Towers takes place after The Fellowship disbands, with Frodo and Sam heading off on their own toward Mount Doom, separated from Merry and Pippin - who under orders from Saruman to grab and not harm any Hobbits - are taken by the orcs, leaving Legolas, Gimli, and Aragorn to track them down, leading them to meet the Riders of Rohan led by Éomer (Karl Urban ), nephew of King Théoden (Bernard Hill), who mention the orcs they destroyed the night before. The trio heads over, and a needlessly silly scene takes place as they find nothing but burned orcs, thinking Merry and Pippin were thrown in with them by the riders, Aragorn screams and then sees a random divot in the ground and deduces that a Merry and Pippin must have fallen and then somehow escaped, leading them into the woods where they discover Gandalf the Gray has returned as Gandalf the White, and we get the second needlessly absurd idea of the film (and also the last). First, I don’t understand why they needed to look at a ditch in the ground and assume it was Merry or Pippin, when they could have been attracted into the woods by any others mean; such as seeing a bright light from Gandalf or something. Secondly, I still don’t fully understand Gandalf’s story, as it seems to enter into a strange Heaven/Hell like universe that’s never again addressed or explained, but somehow leads to Gandalf returning hundreds of years later, expressing how he was forced to live in the world forever after killing the Balrog monster. It’s better than cutting to him just catching a ledge of the cliff and hoisting himself up after falling into the fire pit, but it just never felt right. It was a bit too convenient to the story, but given how little it matters, it’s enough to be ignored (and given Game of Thrones endless reliance on magic every time it's in a plot pickle, this now seems insignificant by comparison). Merry and Pippin go on to meet one of the best characters of the series, Treebeard (actually voiced by John Rhys-Davey who plays Gimli). Given how long Ents have been around, they’ve developed a terrible habit of taking hours to express the simplest thought, such as greeting a fellow group of Ents, who agreed to meet and discuss attacking Saruman (Christopher Lee); reluctant until they discover Saruman had burned many of their friends (that is, the forest) to increase production for his war machine, so beginning one of the coolest battle sequences of any action-adventure film. Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli get into the meat of the story, ending up at Rohan’s capital Edoras, where they discover King Théoden gaunt and seemingly on the brink of death. His mind has been corrupted by the amazing character of Wormtongue (Brad Dourif); Saruman’s minion deliberately sent to Edoras to corrupt the king. Wormtongue embodies today’s world of fake news, alternative facts, and misinformation, demonstrating how it easy it is to corrupt another by spreading fear and paranoia. It would have been so easy to have Théoden retain his regular image of a healthy and strong leader, but to have Wormtongue’s words be toxic enough to decay Théoden’s body is kiss your fingers perfect; such a simple idea and working magnificently. Gandalf goes on to save Théoden, and for a reason I can’t understand, then let’s Wormtongue go free, knowing how dangerous and powerful his sociopathy and loyalty to Saruman is. While I appreciate what it leads to, it does seem like a plot serving move, hiding behind a generic “Too much blood has been shed” defense; especially given how much blood each of them would go onto shed, not to mention the number of who Hobbits who will die (in the books) because of this decision. With Saruman’s gigantic army approaching, fueled by his slaughtering of the Fangorn Forest the thousands of Uruk-Hai are no match for Edoras. He orders his people and army to Helm’s Deep, located in the deep pocket of a mountain, meaning they can’t get flanked by the enemy, though they also have no chance of retreat. While the book only spends about twenty pages on this battle, Jackson spreads the scene out, creating one of the best medieval battle sequences since Braveheart ('95; and still better than the Game of Thrones' "Battle of Winterfell"), as again with excellent sound design, we watch as men of all ages are coated in arms, many who have never fought, all while the torches and deafening march approaches their position. While I really hope that they one day remove Legolas skateboarding down the hillside on an Orc shield, the sequence holds up extraordinarily well. And while it’s easy to judge that Gandalf’s last minute save relied far too much on coincidence, this is where I admire Tolkien’s spirituality, where given all of the detail, it's reasonable that characters would believe in faith over coincidence. While it’s here that the book and the movie most depart, with Shelob being saved for The Return of the King (the movie) and instead follows Frodo and Sam as they discover Gollum and later Boromir’s brother Faramir (David Wenham), who seems similarly tempted by the Ring. We get fantastic flashbacks in the extended editions of Faramir’s father Denethor (John Noble) and his greed for power. While Tolkien teases about man’s weakness, it’s the story of Denethor and Faramir that portray a vivid and honest struggle with what the ring could provide. It offers a reasonable moral dilemma - if facing no other options other than death or enslavement, a leader would likely feel a need to do anything to save their people, in which case Denethor was logical in desiring the ring to save Osgiliath. While I haven’t seen much of Game of the Thrones at the time of this writing (though I’ve now fully caught up), I have read the first book and it seems that both Denethor and Théoden, and even Aragorn all had a significant impact on the series, as what I failed to grasp as a fourteen year old was the extraordinary depth of characters these men were conveying, getting all the better in the final book. Of course we also see Frodo get weighed down by the Ring, both physically and mentally, and for as much of a swindler Gollum was, Frodo attested to his higher faith that they had to spare him for the role he’d go on to play. It’s here that the film fails to capture what is close to a year’s worth of travel since leaving Bag End. Frodo and Sam exchange some pleasantries and compliments, talking about how they’ll be hailed as heroes, until they’re too caught by Faramir who’s been looking for the ring, struggling over whether or not to take it before fully grasping the consequences of doing so. It’s difficult to write about a middle film, as it’s beginning the first which contains all of the history that led to the choice and the last film where you can finally discuss what it all means. It’s simply a fantastic movie, of which I’d probably put within the Top Five Greatest Home Video/Audio Experiences Ever. The Two Towers has a few CGI failures (though nearly as bad as Fellowship); in some scenes Gollum doesn’t at all blend with the frame, or when the Wargs attack in the beginning, the movement is so complex it just becomes muddy, making me again keeping my fingers crossed for a remastering. BELOW: One of the greatest battles ever to graze the screen Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  One of the 00s saddest scenes Director: Peter Jackson Writer: Fran Walsh, Philippa Boyens, and Peter Jackson; based on The Fellowship of the Ring by J. R. R. Tolkien Cinematography: Andrew Lesnie Producer: Barrie M. Osborne, Peter Jackson, Fran Walsh, Tim Sanders by Jon Cvack Continued from Part 1 and Part 2... When the Fellowship fails to scale the Misty Mountains, they turn to the Mines of Moria, once ruled by Dwarves as they mined for the priceless Mithril. Outside, they face a pretty funny puzzle and killer Octopus, providing the worst scenes of that 25% of the CGI that completely fails as the creature attacks the fellowship, attempting to hide the detail with moonlight and water, and just looking like a giant video game monster. Doesn’t matter because it leads to the film’s greatest scene, as the Fellowship discovers the mines abandoned of Elves but filled with Orcs, Jackson achieves the finest balance of thrill and action, relying on an Orc drum beat to anticipate their approach. Up to this point, we haven’t seen an actual battle scene, not beyond the sword fight between the Ringwraiths. Here Jackson shines with his talents, taking us from the tomb to the various corridors, with the drumbeat ever playing, building up excitement for what’s to come next and how much greater it can get. While I was honestly taken out of the movie with the shitty Octopus, Jackson fully delivers with his VFX in the deep caverns with molten lava burning far below, with precarious massive staircases extending all the way down. When the Balrog comes, while needing a bit of a CGI polish, it caps off the scene with near perfection. I had always enjoyed the scene, but I never grasped how well crafted it was. I’d put this as one of top twenty five greatest scenes of all time, demanding to be watched with stellar sound and image, accomplishing the rare feat of making you hope, no matter how illogical, that things might be different for Gandalf this time around; that he would escape and continue to join the Fellowship and that they’d remain together. I’m not sure what goes on in the mind when this earnest hope for a impossible alternative reality takes place, but when Gandalf dies and the Fellowship mourns, I still get a bit moist in the eyes, no matter how many times I’ve seen it. The film then moves to Lothlórien where the Extended Edition drowns, as we get blue dreamy sequence after blue dreamy sequence, with Elves like Galadriel (Cate Blanchett) speaking in slow motion, feeling as though it’s all shot in close ups causing me to feel claustrophobic. I wish I could insert the theatrical release for this section, as this section really dragged, and while I believe the theatrical cut is a bit confusing with all of the flashbacks and slow motion talk, it at least played fast enough for me not to care. The remaining Fellowship leaves via river. Boromir tries to steal the Ring from Frodo who escapes off on his own, as more Orcs close in on their position, once again highlighting the frailty of men and providing one of the more gruesome murders to watch; especially for a PG-13 movie. It’s the closing scene that always sticks with me, as Frodo attempts to leave by canoe, abandoning the others, and Sam chases him down, nearly drowning. The score kicks in with the song is “The Breaking of the Fellowship” and even as I listen to it as I’m writing this, I get washed with that feeling of hope and anticipation; where not since a film like Back to the Future (1985) have I been so sad that it ended, forcing me to return to reality. While I could have probably done without the melodramatic drowning moment, hearing Sam declare that he’s going to stick with his friend also hits right in the heart. To see the connection between these characters which plays so true and entirely real is something, it’s clear that Tolkien had some thoughts on friendship, and which I could only surmise was based upon the bonds of war. As the movie faded I was immediately taken back, to a time before I was into movies, simply excited for the next film which I’d only know through television commercials and magazines, immersing me into a world unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. I’ve spoken of summertime blockbuster trilogies - The Dark Knight Trilogy, Back to the Future, Indiana Jones, and so on. Rare is the winter blockbuster trilogy or series (Star Wars, Harry Potter, etc.). The Fellowship of the Ring is a movie I could have just as easily started up all over again the moment the credits rolled. It’s escapism at its very finest - combining brilliant insights with an accessible and fully realized stories. It’s one of the all time greats that, because it can’t be franchised the same as Star Wars, Marvel, or DC, has lost some of its popularity. I bet soon enough it’ll again takes it position as one of the all time greatest in cinematic history.* *Coincidentally, only weeks after writing this, Amazon announced their ~$1 billion Lord of the Rings series is in the work. BELOW: For all the CGI faults, this some how still holds up well Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page |
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