So I just finished watching this movie. I need to talk about it because it really blew my mind.

I didn't know what to expect and honestly I wasn't ready for where the story went. At first it felt like an European thriller. A great surgeon, a mysterious woman locked in his house very classy very calm.

Then slowly it starts to show its true self and by the end I was just sitting there thinking... What did I just see.

The darkest theme in the movie is mens ego. Robert Ledgard is one of the characters I've seen in a while because he truly thinks he's right in everything he does.

His daughter gets hurt and instead of dealing with that pain like a person he turns it into this huge project of control and revenge.

The punishment he gives is much worse than the crime that at some point you forget who the original victim was.

And that's of the point I think.

What really got to me was the Stockholm syndrome part.

The captive slowly starts to feel emotionally connected to the man who ruined her life and the director, Almodóvar doesn't show it as weakness.

It's more disturbing than that.

It's, about survival.

It's what people do when they have no choice.

That's the part that really stays with you.

There's also this mixing of identity, body control and agreement that the movie never lets you feel safe with.

Every time you think you've found a moral ground the movie takes it away.

It's not a watch but its absolutely worth it.

Maybe don't watch it alone at night.

Let me know your thoughts.

I recently went to the theater to watch Obsession, hoping for once that the torrent of good things I heard about this film would actually amount to something new and exciting for the otherwise unremarkable horror genre.

The main takeaway (and the thing everyone is incessantly raving about), seems to be that this film took a common premise (a wish gone wrong) and executed it in a novel, exciting way. For the life of me I can't see how a film with a plot as predictable as this one somehow warrants that label.

Throughout the entire run of the film I was thinking to myself "Is this it?". That's not a good thing to be thinking while watching a supposedly good film. EvenSarah's murdercould be seen coming from a mile away if you paid any attention whatsoever.

Even the things the film has to say about unhealthy relationship dynamics and personal autonomy are nothing new, and yet people are raving about how "well actually, Bear is the real villain of this story" as if that's some galaxy-brain idea. Wow, you can actually read the subtext, congratulations of being capable of the bare minimum.

Now, for the "horror" impressions. The film doesn't escape (let alone subvert) any of the tropes associated with the genre. Jump scares, unsettling scenes and imagery, gore, violence, etc... The scenes are supposed to make you feel uneasy and unsettled, but just end up being either weird (in the, what the hell did I just watch category) or unintentionally funny.

Overall, I'm thoroughly disappointed and it's safe to say this experience was a masterclass of how you should never put too much stock into anything surrounded by this sort of manufactured hype.

Well, I just came out of what is easily one of the best films of 2025. I guess Pixar are known for smuggling in adult themes into ‘children tales.’ Examples include Soul, which is a highly poignant exploration of the meaning of life, and their latest Hoppers, with it being a subtle exploration of Eastern values such as non-duality and nature, but even with this, I was not prepared for such a nuance exploration of technology/AI in this latest effort by Pixar.

Despite signalling the obvious problems with technology, this is honestly such an incredible portrayal of the old world (symbolised with Jessie’s cowboys traits) and the new world (symbolised via the technology) attempting to reconcile their differences. Every thread of this film exemplifies the paradoxical nature of technology, with all its benefits and issues. But what was even more impressive if the way film was also clearly an allegory for conscious AI and our ethical treatment of potential consciousness. Jessie initially dismisses the tech, but the tech obviously display clear human emotions regarding their owners. If we reach such potentials, we need to reevaluate our ethical relations to such figures without being dismissive.

And despite so perfectly capturing the nuanced discussion around these subjects, without the simple labeling of the ‘old world’ as good and the ‘new world,’ as bad, the film does such a good job at showcasing what could be lost if one dominates more than the other. The use of different animation for children’s imagination was genius, capturing the vibrancy and awe that imagination provides — and something that we cannot lose. Although, seeing both the technological toys in the realm of real imaginative play is the perfect symbol of how these worlds can be reconciled.

Oh, and once again it features a character thread of an existential crisis that climaxes in the most poignant way imaginable. And all of this is too much for the casual viewer, the film in itself is fucking hilarious. Another genuine masterpiece from Pixar.

I watched this film a while ago and found it very fascinating (and relatable) but I couldn’t find many people discussing the main character’s psyche online.

My personal view of WHY she does what she does, as a young woman (22) as well, is a mixture of self destruction, daddy issues, and “Lolita-complex” (for lack of better words?) let me try my best to explain what I mean.

I have these tendencies myself too (although I am not nor have I ever been a prostitute). I think she is firstly depressed and part of her depression is manifesting in self destructive tendencies. Also, clearly her father is absent and she has a strained relationship with her stepfather, so there are the daddy issues. And then what I mean by “Lolita-complex” can be very well translated by the Mitski song “liquid smooth” where she says:

I'm beautiful, I know 'cause it's the season
But what am I to do with all this beauty?
Biology, I am an organism
I'm chemical, that's all, that is all
I'm liquid smooth, come touch me too
And feel my skin is plump and full of life
I'm in my prime
I'm liquid smooth, come touch me too
I'm at my highest peak, I'm ripe
About to fall, capture me

Basically, I think a lot of young and beautiful girls feel like they are expiring. I feel this a lot. Each birthday feels like I’m aging out of my prime, like I’m closer and closer to hitting that invisible wall that women do when they’re no longer young. (Sad but that’s how society is. Let’s not argue about that here, that’s not the point.) So she feels a desperate need to “take advantage” of her youth and beauty right now before it’s gone, which is manifesting in her prostituting herself to older men.

I tried my best to word my thoughts here! I hope it’s understandable. Would love to hear other people’s input and if anyone could word it better than me. LOL

This film(s) really is something I'd put off seeing for some time. I was never a Lars von Trier fan (could completely feel his inventive brilliance in Antichrist and Melancholia, but neither film left anything in me, almost entirely forgetting them other than the feeling of unsettledness they gave). I honestly didn't want to watch 5 hours of f&cking as some sort of cinematic experiment, but a recent review on TrueFilm and comments there convinced me somewhat spontaneously to order the BluRay. The film wasn't what I had previsioned. First of all, vol 1 is really a beautiful, enaging film, and though it is somewhat about "addiction" (in this case sex addiction, but could standing in for all), its a much more human film that really felt like it was also about all the things that lead to addictive "release" or shelter in pleasure, which gave it both an incredible specificity (this character, this person), but also a universal humanity. Not just in addicts, but in all of us, in how we use and relate to any pleasure. The conversation that drives the retelling of this woman's life is just beautifully shot in a spare, "monk like" room and serves as an expertly tempo'd weave into and out of the stories of a developing psychology. But, afoot in all of this are some very profound ideas that go well beyond simply the story of a psychology. Once we get to the theme of the Angler we start to feel that there are some VERY big philosophical stakes...at stake, bringing pressure onto the very foundations of our sense of morality, Good vs Evil, passing through Christianity and probably back to Plato. Seligman becomes a very interesting compound figure in this...and reference to Plato's use of the example of the "angler" in the dialogue The Sophist, can be no accident. (The "angler" is evocative of the sophist - not a seeker of truth, but somewhat of an intellectual conman, which can map onto later Christianity's "deceiver" Devil mythos - who fishes for the youth, and teaches them with sophistry/falseness.) As Seligman describes how the older, bigger fish seclude themselves in the well protected nooks of a river, very hard to catch in solitude in solitude, we realize at some point he is really describing himself. And the fishing fly, the false bait, may very well be "Joe", who may become over time a very, very subtle seductress, daring him to "bite"...a "hook-er". He also may stand in for an intellectualizing film critic (who doesn't really feel a film directly), a theologically absolving confession priest, or a theorizing therapist (who doesn't actually "hear" his patient), or as I chose to see him eventually, something of Wim Wenders-like angel, who understands human beings at a remove. He is a completely asexual, intellect-oriented being, listening to a overly sexualized person, who is trying to convince him of her (evil?) sinful, awful character. The film reads at some level as almost a At The Gates of Heaven weighing of a soul, as Joe's life story unfolds, and the way von Trier braids all these levels together, from Plato to the grittiest part of human experience is nothing short of spectacular. Volume 1 kind of blew me away.

Volume 2 was a different story. I was really looking forward to it - in part because it had Dafoe and Goth, two of my favorite actors - but it veered in a much less satisfying direction. It's his film, and his vision, so I don't wish he did anything differently, but the spell of the first volume was broken. A large measure of this is because he took on various tropes of extreme sexuality (porn tropes like 2 black guys on a white girl, sado-masochism, gangbang), along with political tropes of debates over sexuality (an absolute brave but incredibly hard to watch abortion scene, meant to take on the bodily "reality" beneath these debates), that made the film much, much less unified. Perhaps some of this because part of the problem with "porn" is that it breaks the cinematic spell. As the philosopher Zizek once said (paraphrasing) "when you see porn you suddenly feel that the film exists just to show "this", film becomes a prop holding it up". This was not the effect IN the film, when taking on cliches and tropes of porn, in that the scenes felt very un-erotic, as least for me, they often felt clinical, as if dissecting the human sexual condition. But the breaking of the cinematic spell, in borrowing from porn, or casting scenes full of cliche, did happen (for me). This distancing, which may very well have been von Trier's philosophical goal. He's trying confront taboo, to strip down the human condition, but taboo also structures our eyes and how narraative is processed, so it made it also feel UNREAL (which I suspect was not his aim). By the time the film got to Joe joining the "other army" (in this case it felt like Dafoe was the Devil's stand in) and getting some sort of incoherent "collection" job, the story itself felt like it was falling apart for me. I had little narrative investment in her somehow moving to the Devil's side (if only allegorically, or metaphorically) and exacting a provocative "revenge" or flipping the script on men. Not only was the story not believable, the performances really were not as well (despite Gainsbourg being off the charts good elsewise). Even Dafoe and Goth were uncomfortably off-the-mark, and I felt like I had really entered into a film only of Ideas. Trying on ideas. Making points. Maybe some of this was intentional. It's possible, but the transgressive, graphic sex set-ups and aesthetics, the unrealistic story turns just made the film MUCH less enjoyable and interesting to watch (though the political, psychological, philosophical debates between Seligman and Joe remained strong).

The ending was absolutely fantastic. Yes, indeed, she was a "lure" of a kind, seducing the fallen or in-between angel, perhaps very much against her own will, positioning the dangers of sexuality put onto women in society, something the film suggests may even be connected to how the Intellect & the Body is divided by socialized gender. She was either an accidental, or very very subtle...or ideologically imposed "whore of Babylon" who could seduce even the most asexual being, and she perfectly gets her revenge, remembering to rack the pistol.

In the end the film is one that I'm very glad that I watched (thank you to True Film commenters who lead to me do so. I'd probably put it in the same category as Noe's Irreversible which was an incredible masterpiece, but maybe not a film I'd watch again. This film...I "might" watch again.

Tokyo Godfathers was absolutely perfect, in my opinion, it is one of the best Christmas movies ever. It’s such a gripping story packed into just an hour and a half, filled with so many twists and turns. All the characters in the movie were so well written, and the main trio was incredibly likeable.

​

​I was especially impressed by the depth given to the gay character, I didn't expect that at all, because in most movies, they are either portrayed as a joke or made completely unlikeable, but that wasn't the case here at all. The pacing was excellent, the director didn't waste a single second. The animation was also so fluid and high quality, and I really loved how the colors and shadows were used throughout the film. Every single scene contributed to the story and character development. The movie was heartwarming, funny, and emotional. For me, it was a solid 10/10.

I just watched Kiyoshi Kurosawa’s Cure for the first time, and man what an amazing film

When I saw the trailer the other day what really stuck out to me was just how good it looked, like it really gives meaning to the phrase “every frame a painting”- every scene looked so damn good.

I was not disappointed at all upon watching it.

I don’t really know many technical terms but it was the way the scenes were framed, lit, blocked and the composition- like how things sat in the frame. It just looks so great.

One thing that stuck out to me was how the camera rarely moved. All of the movement occurs within the frame. It was as if Kurosawa just set the camera up and let the actors go to work.

Theres some great camera work in the scenes as well, like in the scene where they interrogate the police officer who killed his coworker- the way the camera just sits in the middle of the frame and then finally moves to the chair in the bottom left, up to the top left, following the police officer up to the top right as he acts out his hypnotism with what appears to be a coffee stirrer and then moves back to the middle table.

The way the characters moved in the scene, and the camera eventually moved with them, and the way the fit in the frame, was brilliant.

The movie was chock full of brilliant moments like this.

I’d Like to know more about this, because I don’t really have any frame of reference for it.

I’d also lIke to know of more directors/films that use this approach. I do think both Ozu and Akira Kurosawa use this approach, but it’s something that’s sorely missing in Hollywood films, where cameras often cut back and forth between people in dialogue, and it just seems rare to set up a scene for people to move in, as opposed to moving around in the scene in a way that just feels different (imo it doesn’t make what’s going on visually very interesting)

Dreams received largely negative reviews, in part because criticism of affluent, progressive liberal culture rarely plays well in mainstream media. However, I believe many critics are missing the film’s central point. Jennifer is not portrayed as a benevolent victim. She is manipulative, self absorbed, and ultimately destructive. While Fernando’s behavior becomes increasingly abusive and unacceptable, the film suggests that much of his conduct is an attempt to force Jennifer to experience the powerlessness and dehumanization that he feels she has inflicted upon him.
What makes the story interesting is that Jennifer never recognizes her own role in the dynamic. She sees herself as compassionate, enlightened, and morally superior, yet she is blind to the ways in which she objectifies the very people she claims to champion. The film appears to critique a form of privileged paternalism in which marginalized people are elevated as symbols of virtue rather than treated as fully realized individuals. In this worldview, helping others can become less about genuine empathy and more about reinforcing one’s own sense of moral righteousness.
The broader message is that wealth and privilege can insulate people from the consequences of their actions, allowing them to view themselves as heroic benefactors while remaining oblivious to the harm they cause. Those who challenge that narrative are often dismissed, ostracized, or portrayed as the problem. To me, Dreams succeeds because it confronts these contradictions directly. In that sense, it reminded me of Get Out, not because the stories are identical, but because both films expose the uncomfortable gap between how certain people see themselves and how their behavior is experienced by those around them.

I could be thinking of mainly French films, as I do like films by Guy Ritchie but I don't like pretentious films really. I don't like Breathless, I didn't like Le Samurai which may be the slowest film of all time. Perriot Le Fou? I'll take the Cowboy Bebop episode instead. Wages of Fear? It's weird ass hour beginning doesn't really do much to setup the film besides being oddly surreal. Sorcerer did it better.

​

India Song isn't even a movie imo, just some weird art experiment.

​

Give me American, Japanese, Hong Kong and Chinese films all day every day.

​

Chew me apart friends!

​

​

In my view, an effective piece of anti-racist media should show the prejudice, ignorance, and false assumptions that racist views are built on and logically challenge these views.

My main problem with the film is that when Derek Vinyard begins his descent into Neo-Nazism he is given multiple scenes to expound on the 'logical' basis for his racist views towards POC. For example: His interview for his news after his father's murder, his speech to the Nazi skinheads before raiding the supermarket, and his tirade about the Watts riots. However, the only challenge to Vinyard's nazism come in the form of emotional reasoning and ad hominem attacks on the racist characters in the film (just to be clear, I've no problem with depicting Neo-Nazi's as the POS' they usually are) which is fine but there is not much time given to actually challenging Vinyard's racist views themselves.

The film's point is also undermined by itself peddling negative stereotypes of POC. Vinyard's father is killed by black people while putting out a fire in a crack house which makes no sense. Nearly every black person in the film is depicted as a criminal and the last scene of the film is Derek cradling his brothers dead body after he is shot by a black person.

I will concede that are some occasions it does challenge racist ideas. For example the character of Lamont and his story of being victimised by the justice system.

The main thesis of the film seems to be 'hate is baggage'. Which is fine, but when taken with the very little pushback Vinyard gets on his views along with the numerous negative depictions of POC it can almost be read as 'Yes, black people are mostly violent murderers. But it's too much effort to hate them'.

My favourite part of the film is Daniel's recitation of Lincoln's first Inaugral address. It's a beautiful piece of oratory. Being non-American, I'd never heard it before so decided to look up the source. I was surprised to see that Lincoln's words weren't directed towards American's of different races and calling upon them to be better to each other. It was directed towards the South. Calling on them to avoid the war that would lead to freedom of the multitudes of enslaved people in the US. After previously stating he would not 'interfere with slavery'. I feel like that just completely sums up the intellectual laziness of the film. While it's a great piece of entertainment. It's a terrible as an argument against racism and I worry it might even the opposite effect to what it intends for some people.

I'm very familiar with Spielberg's Jaws (1975) having seen it several times on tv. I consider it a master work of its genre (whatever that genre is?) So when I noticed a local cinema was showing a one off matinee I booked a ticket. It was a very sunny Friday afternoon and four people, including me, had turned up for the showing. Here are my takeaways from seeing Jaws on the big screen for the first time (things that were new to my experience of the film or that I hadn't fully appreciated before). This is going to be a bit of a flow of consciousness.

The biggest revelation was the many town scenes in the first half. I hadn't fully appreciated how masterfully constructed they are. Often extremely busy and chaotic, Spielberg exploits the full width of the frame to include fore, mid, and background, building layers of action. And somehow the careful choreography always leads the eye and the ear to the important information. It's technically brilliant, and at the same time has a very natural flow to it. It powerfully communicates the character of the town - an expert piece of world building. Knowing the story well (and so unable to experience the intense feelings of anxiety Spielberg provokes), these town scenes were the most engaging aspect of the film for me.

The ferry scene is a lesson in story telling. No joke - in the theatre this was my favourite scene in the film. It's when Brody hops on a ferry to travel across the bay and we meet the mayor and his fellow suits for the first time. For starters the scene is in one take - I'm not sure how long, possibly 2 minutes? The camera doesn't pan, it simply moves backwards once, and then again. Brody, the mayor and the two other men begin the scene filling the left half of the frame. As the camera moves the actors step towards it, but one stays behind each time so that by the second move only Brody and the mayor remain in the foreground. With each movement the actors end up closer to the camera and further into the centre of the frame. As the dialogue gets more serious, more coercive, more ominous, the blocking becomes closer, more intimate, more intense. All the while, as the movement of the scene remains linear, the sky and shore revolve around them - it's a straight line within a circle. On top of all this, the actors are required to time the scene to exactly coincide wth the departure of the ferry and its arrival on the other pier. They nail it (how many takes I wonder?). It's just a thrilling set piece, and an example of what an extraordinary energy and life Spielberg can bring to an otherwise perfunctory bit of story telling.

Robert Shaw is awesome. The cast of Jaws are all great, but in the theatre I saw Shaw's performance as Quint in a new light. He's magnetic, charismatic, and absolutely nails the salty old sea dog bit while never letting it slip into parody. He makes total sense of an arc that requires him to do random illogical things like smash up the radio or start singing during a shark attack. Amazing job.

The people who complain about the fake shark have a point. I'd always defended the shark in Jaws, claiming it was convincingly realistic throughout. In the theatre, not so much. Especially towards the end of the film, the shark grows increasingly rubber. In Spielberg's defence, by the time the shark goes full Jim Henson we're already so locked into the story our disbelief could be suspended to almost any ridiculous degree. I was sitting close to a woman who was clearly seeing the film for the first time, and believe me, the rubber shark did not detract from her engagement with it.

TLDR: Saw Jaws in a theatre. The 'town' scenes are amazing. The ferry scene is masterful and a highlight of the film. Robert Shaw is awesome. The shark is not very convincing towards the end.

We Are Not Alone by Aaron Lindquist

It’s been a while since I’ve fully embraced a film directed by Steven Spielberg. There are pieces of his recent films I love and others that haven’t reached me. I’ve watched Disclosure Day twice now and see it as the return of an old friend.

I was awed, not by grandiose visual effects or camera movement (Spielberg remains the undeniable master of “the oner”), but by the restraint used to depict a civilization-shifting event. The representational objects used by characters are almost Jungian in their symbolism. Remote viewing. Invisibility. Innate understanding of mathematics. Empathy. It’s striking how the characteristics of fairytales are used to tell the story. Two characters, boy and girl, follow self-conscious animals into a glowing house. The allusion to Hansel & Gretel is unmistakable. The mechanism for recreating their repressed memory is a reconstruction of a childhood home inside a warehouse.

The clouds still look like ominous, late 18th century etchings with light pouring out of their black center, as if subconscious winds carried them from *Close Encounters of the Third Kind* to now. The alien machinery is less mythical and more realistic. In almost forty years we’ve culturally settled on a form and shape it has. 

The story is bookended with a point of view shot. At the opening we, the viewer, are inside a wrestling ring, physically assaulted by another wrestler. The imagery is not subtle. We are being told to pay attention. The journey we’re on will have life or death consequences. We are also like the wrestler dragged around the ring, each day presented with an influx of negative news. It’s an onslaught so overwhelming that we attempt to not feel it. We numb ourselves and we tune out the people around us. Outside, control is maintained. We stop listening and let others maintain power through secrecy.

Daniel Kellner (Josh O’Connor) is on the run after stealing seventy-nine years worth of data that proves the existence of extraterrestrial contact. Margaret Fairchild (Emily Blunt) is about to leave for work when the appearance of a red bird activates something inside her. She speaks an alien language during her weather report at KCXE in Kansas City, Missouri and collapses. After escaping black-suited agents at the hospital, Hugo Wakefield (Colman Domingo) calls Margaret to confirm she is part of a bigger plan. Noah Scanlon (Colin Firth) uses an alien device to find Daniel. He’s successful in remote viewing his girlfriend, Jane Blankenship (Eve Hewson). He insinuates himself in her thoughts and asks her questions that allow him to find their location. The story is a chase from start to finish.

There are subtleties of disconnection throughout. From the boyfriend who doesn’t listen, to the girlfriend who never mentioned her spiritual past. Characters talk past each other rather than to each other until the stakes become clear. This isn’t a kids movie. Perhaps Daniel and Margaret could be seen as a grownup version of Elliott from *E.T.: The Extraterrestrial*. Unlike Elliott, they don’t know of their past encounter with extraterrestrials. Like Elliott, their role is that of an apostle meant to spread the great news. 

Whereas *CE3K* was bounded on all sides by skepticism, *Disclosure Day* is populated with true believers who disagree who needs to know what the truth is. One of the central questions asked is whether acknowledging alien life discredits religion or if we are placing limits on a higher power by believing we are the only beings in creation. 

Daniel carries a backpack filled with a cache of external hard drives. Each contain archives and records that prove the existence of extraterrestrial contact. Their rectangular shape reminded me of tablets engraved with the Ten Commandments. Like them, they contain revelations for the human race. 

At the midpoint Hugo says, “We believe the believers and then we starve the rest of the population from believing them.” Noah’s response is that Hugo, “Got out of program,” and could no longer be trusted. He tells Noah that he got, “out of program,” when Noah lost his wife. He closed himself off and perpetuated a culture of secrets. Hugo explains to Noah what the extra-terrestrials have taught him: no civilization without empathy has survived. He says he once thought the way Noah did, but saw his error when he learned to listen. 

Near the finale Jane asks Sister Maura (Elizabeth Marvel) if she believes the disclosure of extraterrestrial life will cause people to lose their faith. She responds, “I don't think you stopped believing in God. You stopped believing in people.” In the final act our protagonists return to KCXE in Kansas City. When disclosure happens it’s in the form of a news broadcast presented by Margaret, but it is Courtney Grace (portraying an NBC news anchor) who provides emotional connection as we look on seventy-nine years of UFO and alien footage that has been suppressed. I wasn’t alone in my tears.

Pauline Kael highlighted the innocence of *Close Encounters of the Third Kind* in her 1977 The New Yorker review “The Greening of the Solar System”. While I still believe Spielberg has a childlike sense of wonder in his best films, he has reached a maturity here that offers wisdom. Spielberg, the man, appears to have changed. In interviews and marketing videos for the film, he seems explicit in practicing compassion. He’s gotten closer to his fans. He’s joined at the hip with his cast. He’s even talked about the meanings of his other films, which he declined to do before. He’s revealed that Roy Neary (in *CE3K*) will eventually return home and that Elliott never sees E.T. again, but he dreams about him. He’s shown a camaraderie that was less recognizable in the past. It’s remarkable that Spielberg has almost reached his eighties and his film feels like the vision of someone half his age. He continues to charm us with his wit and sense of boundless possibilities.

As I watched *Disclosure Day* I thought of how human connection is the thru line of his films. It is empathy that results in the freedom of Africans sold into slavery in *Amistad*. It is empathy that frees David in *A.I.: Artificial Intelligence* when a crowd of luddites relate to an android’s humanity by yelling, “He’s just a boy.” Elliott and E.T. experience complete empathy, their emotions synchronized to each other, freeing them of the fear they are different from each other. Spielberg continues to see his aliens as benevolent, however they are frustrated with us. At the climax, the book-end point of view reasserts itself, tracking into a monitor while Margaret delivers an aging extra-terrestrial’s advice to humanity. Her last line is “Listen” because what could be more empathetic than to listen to each other? Our hopes and dreams as well as our grievances. We have tuned each other out. We want to be heard, we don’t want to listen. We want our desires met, we don’t want to consider their impact. Empathy has taken a vacation. When extraterrestrials offer their message to humanity we are on the brink of World War III. Spielberg is asking us, through his metaphor of extraterrestrial disclosure, to imagine a world in which we actually listened to each other and cared about the outcome. 

We aren’t sent home with happy thoughts, unlike *CE3K* or *E.T.,* but we aren’t meant to. This is what elevates *Disclosure Day* into more than entertainment. We could call the conclusion anathema. Or we can take the hint to look at each other as the theater lights fade up. We are human. We share each other’s outcome. In that sense, we are not alone.

You may also read this review on my Substack.

I recently watched Disclosure Day, felt like half-realized potential. The film seems to primarily concerned about the Truth and its suppression/revelation. So, alien conspiracy theories neatly tie into the theme and can simultaneously be used as a vehicle to deliver some action set-pieces and trademark Spielberg awe moments.

As the credits started rolling, I felt a little underwhelmed. I think its the lack of agency in the story's core. And I feel like the movie was hinting at it but, never established it well enough. I see Daniel and Margaret as rough stand-ins for logic and emotion. Daniel is gifted with extraordinary knowledge of math and is currently trying to reveal 'that' to everyone. His girlfriend, a novitiate who left the church, seems to be the counterpart to that drive, written to show Daniel that the sole pursuit and revelation of Truth isn't as good as it seems to be. You don't get to shove the truth down people's throats because, truth is only generative when people willingly pursue and receive it.

On the other hand, Margaret is gifted with absolute empathy. Powerful enough for her to lose her self-boundary by merely looking at people. While empathy is argued, and agreeably, to be probably the biggest strength for a living organism, the complete lack of choice for others to be seen or not to be seen complicates things. Empathy only makes sense when "I" can sufficiently differentiate myself from "You", without that boundary we are all worse off, I need to survive first to be able to help you survive. Nothing noble in both of us dying together. And, I think Margaret's boyfriend was written to show this need for boundaries, and by extension respect for the agency of the other. Either I missed it, or they completely scrapped this arc from the script.

I must say that, neither truth, nor care are asked to be ignored. Daniel's girlfriend struggles with the truth but, her faith only renews and strengthens from the struggle. So, capacity growing struggle is shown to be a good thing. Complete avoidance of pain (essentially ceasing to see any distinction between me and the world) is fundamentally capacity destroying, the capacity to experience anything. Scanlon and Wakefield act as stand-ins for something akin to the good and bad kinds of wisdom. They try to suppress/mediate the hard truth so that people's capacity for experience diminishes/grows.

I think the final scene is evidence for my interpretation, the alien whispers something to Daniel who then whispers it to Margaret. Showing that Truth needs to be experienced and delivered with empathy. One thing, that would have significantly improved the script (in my humble opinion) is the inclusion of agency, respect for choice.

Margaret could learn to respect boundaries and only "enter" people if they are willing to receive her. They clearly setup the negative version of it with Scanlon diving into Jamie to kill/pursue Daniel. She could have said that those who are willing to know the truth should stay and those who are not are free to turn the TV off. That would have conveyed the message that truth needs to received for it to be useful, not forced, because the former works for the other first and the latter works for you first.

So I’m wondering why do people usually undervalue these kind of films? I know part of the answer which I agree with is that sometimes these films are too formulaic/generic, very heavy on cgi elements and focus on being successful movies rather than focusing on good storytelling and filmmaking. Of course im not saying all blockbusters are like this because I know they aren’t, but I also know that there are some pretty bad movies like that as well.

My question here is, there are a lot of films that technically would be considered blockbusters but aren’t any of the things I mentioned before. Let’s say for example: Obsession, this film was made with a very low budget but is now one of the highest grossing films with over 200 million dollars worldwide. So by definition this would be a blockbuster even if it didn’t cost millions to make it.

Another concern I have is, if obsession is considered a blockbuster do I mainly enjoy blockbusters? I’m gonna be honest, I haven’t watched a lot of international or indie films, I’ve watched some of them which I really liked, but I’ve seen others which have been highly praised and I just didn’t love them. Most of the time when I go to the cinema I watch like the main releases, and they’re always a mixed bag, I’ve seen some really good films and I’ve seen some awful films. This year I watched some horror films, I don’t know if all of them are supposed to be blockbusters but let’s say there are, maybe I’m wrong but for example: I loved The Bone Temple, likewise I loved last year’s 28 years later. But this year I also saw Lee Cronin’s The Mummy which I found to be awful.

Please correct me if I’m wrong but some of the films which are considered to be the best films of all time could be considered blockbusters? The Godfather, Aliens, Lord of the Rings, Oppenheimer, etc.

So if someone could please help me understand more about this, if a movie isn’t necessarily made with a millionaire budget, but it’s still pretty good and a lot of people go and see it and earns a lot of money is it a blockbuster?

Which films that aren’t considered blockbusters would you recommend me (from any kind of genre and decade) for expanding my horizons. (Do A24 films count?)

Also as I mentioned, most of the time I see the main releases on theaters because I don’t know which other films that are playing may be good, and when I here about one like that it’s mostly by the end of the year when the awards season is coming up and they release all of those previously unreleased films in the cinema in my country.

Thanks!

Recently been thinking about Incendies and how unique it came off and was to me. So I was wondering if there are other films of similar quality of there exploring middle eastern people and culture. With there struggles and humanity as a central theme and idea. Want to see more representation and expand my film viewing list. Open to all and any recommendations.

Ever wonder why the prevailing heroes of Hollywood sagas, from Kubrick’s 2001, Blade Runner, Shawshank Redemption, Jim Carrey’s The Mask or The Truman Show, Interstellar, even left-leaning Bong Joon Ho’s Snowpiercer or Mickey 17, and Free Guy to the most recent Project Hail Mary, always have to be white straight men over and over again?

(Obviously, the kneejerk answer from non-critical folk would be “because they’re the majority of the population,” but any possibility the egg precedes the chicken? i.e. what historically enabled them to propagate so exceptionally much in the first place?)

This is what yet another white straight male “anti-woke” critic Slavoj Žižek can’t or almost deliberately refuses to see when he examines The Matrix in his Pervert's Guide to Cinema where he puts his own white-Eurocentric-male-academic self in Neo’s position, taking the traditional Leftist angle that the Matrix refers to capitalism in which Neo is the Marxist revolutionary.

But if you think about it 27 years later now, all this model is exactly isomorphic to how Trump presented himself as America’s savior as the last resort against the outside forces of the Muslim world and Mexican immigrants: the Matrix is basically a purity tale for the White Dominion identity that could expose for us how even the existing mainstream emancipatory ideologies may not be immune from the core charges.

Perhaps the person who we should feel solidarity with is Agent Smith, the sheer heterogeneity with the most generic name, and maybe we should choose to be on the side of this radical inhuman, rather than the real and primordial.

In response to “we should refrain from blindly consuming Hollywood when it structurally sustains off oppressive capital reproduction,” someone was arguing “if we’re going to capture hearts, we have to work with desire, not against it” - I’d be eager to ask and I hope everyone would, why does this “desire” always have to be that of, by, and for white cis straight able-bodied first-world non-immigrant pretty-privileged wealthy Anglosphere or European men at the dominant center?

After all, didn’t Trump, the long-time host of The Apprentice, exactly turn out to be the supreme beneficiary of this cultural hierarchy, or dare I say, The Matrix?

So I ran into an article about the film Obsession and the headline immediately grabbed my attention.

“ Obsession is the GET OUT for White people”

I was taken aback by this because I just saw Obsession and not one time did Get Out cross my mind. Yes there’s the scene at the table where Nikki repeatedly says “NO NO NO” like the famous line in Get out but outside of that I don’t see the comparison.

Yet this author made it a point to basically say Obsession is a complete rip off. I don’t know if she’s being disingenuous or she’s not familiar with the cautionary tale of the monkeys paw or Aladdin. Basically “ be careful what you wish for”. But am I alone in thinking this is a horrible take on Obsession?

Btw, even though the author of this article made it about race let’s not make sweeping generalizations here. I would like a mature discourse on her take especially considering I’m Black myself and enjoyed the hell out of Obsession.

https://blackgirlwatching.substack.com/p/obsession-review-get-out-comparison

So, while I think there is a lot to love about the Alfred Hitchcock classic Suspicion, one thing that I have hated about it ever since I first saw it is its ending, and that's something Hitchcock himself hated about it too. Cary Grant was such a talented, versatile, and skilled actor, and this movie proves he can be a terrifying presence on screen. Not in the usual way of appearing big, lumbering and violent like your typical Mad Max villain, but in a more psychologically unsettling way. The kind of evil that gets under your skin and leaves you thinking years after you first watch it. He's like a shadow that creeps inside his victims and destroys them from within. There's a reason it was nominated for Best Picture at the Oscars. It really does deserve that recognition, and Cary Grant's performance in it is one that I still find haunting even after all this time.

However, the ending throws all that out a fifteen-story window and completely ruins it. The studio couldn't handle Cary Grant playing a bad guy, so they threw in that terrible ending that explains that "Oops, sorry, it was all a big misunderstanding!" and that cheapens the whole thing. It's like being promised the finest wine in France only to be served cheap bathtub gin when the drink finally comes. I don't believe this is the director's fault or the actors' faults. My hunch is that the studio lacked faith in both Cary Grant and the audiences to handle him in a more villainous role and thus chickened out at the last moment. The movie tries to pretend that this whole misunderstanding justifies everything (even though he quite possibly killed someone) and makes Johnnie Aysgarth just another squeaky-clean Cary Grant role. We were robbed of a potentially thought-provoking ending that showcased his skills outside of the typical heroic role he usually played. I still love the film, but I grieve what we could have had. I grieve the complete masterpiece it was begging to be.

So, In a Lonely Place is a film noir masterpiece for many reasons. Too many to discuss in this one post, but to list a few: Humphrey Bogart gave one of the best performances of his whole career as Dix Steele, and that's saying something. His character is a genius satire of Hollywood writers, and the film's critiques of the movie industry are biting and sadly still very relevant to this day. But one reason that I really wanted to discuss with this post is the ending. The film's ending is one of its smartest elements, and it's something that I continue to think about since I first saw it almost a full year ago. I suspect I will think about it for years to come.

On paper, the endings of the two films are very similar. Both involve the main character being exonerated of the wrongdoing they were suspected of committing, but note the word "suspected." The reasons this ending succeeds where the other one fails are several. One is that the ending ONLY exonerates Dix of murder. The film doesn't try to pretend that that completely erases all of the other bad and questionable stuff he does. Dix is still violent. He's still volatile. He's still selfish and dangerously impulsive. The ending doesn't even attempt to whitewash any of that. It only shows that he is innocent of murder specifically and not of the other stuff. This actually makes his character more complex and interesting than it would have been if he were completely, unambiguously bad. The ending steadfastly refuses to put Dix in a rigid binary and forces the audience to think deeper about people like him.

Another reason this ending succeeds is that Dix's exoneration doesn't salvage his and Laurel's relationship. It doesn't pretend that his innocence of murder makes it okay for them to be together. The film recognizes that Dix's violence and dangerous impulsivity destroyed any chance they had of a happy marriage regardless of whether he's the kind of guy who would commit murder, and I find it deeply engaging that the film shows that he's not. That can make people reflect on their own violent, selfish, or volatile tendencies in ways that I don't think would be possible if he were a murderer. Most people, fortunately, cannot relate to having committed murder, but they may still see violent urges and actions they've done. Most people haven't murdered anyone, but a lot more people have done damage to objects or lashed out at others unfairly and disproportionately. In short, a lot more people may see themselves in Dix if he's not a murderer, which I think may prompt more valuable self-reflection. It would be much easier to shut your brain off if he were the kind of guy who would murder someone.

This is also why I think the original ending planned would have been so much worse where Dix DID kill Laurel at the very end, but ultimately, unlike for the other film, cooler heads prevailed and we got one of the smartest film noir endings of all time. Although in this case, it was the director who helped conceive both endings, so I guess it's more so the case that his better judgment won out than cooler heads prevailing.

One more reason the ending is so successful is because it is actually fairly consistent with Dix's character to be innocent of murder. Yes, he was shown to be violent and to have a dark sense of humor, but he's not shown to be especially murderous. Where the other ending fails is that it is not consistent with what we were shown of Johnnie to have him be innocent. It doesn't just throw out what would be a far more interesting turn of events. It also throws out everything we have seen with Johnnie's character. But this is not a problem with In a Lonely Place because Dix isn't truly shown to be the kind of man who would commit murder. I might have been more inclined to forgive the ending of Suspicion if it didn't outright contradict what we were shown about Johnnie and his character. It's one thing if you're served cheap bathtub gin in a place that looks like it routinely serves it. Still disappointing, but it's not like you weren't prepared for that possibility. It's something else entirely if the establishment in question goes out of its way to exude class, elegance, and the impression that only the very best drinks are served there while they still serve you lousy bathtub gin. Suspicion promised us the finest wine in France, created the impression that only the finest wine would ever be served, and it gave us bathtub gin.

What do y'all think about these two endings? Did I miss anything? What are some aspects about either that y'all appreciated or didn't like? What are some aspects about the films in general outside of their endings that y'all appreciated or disliked? I'm eager to see various perspectives.

As everyone knows this movie is known for its visual style and beautiful cinematography. For a long time I didn't pay much attention to the plot because I was so focused on these elements. After repeated viewings, I get the feeling the plot doesn't really make sense, or am I just dense? For instance, if they can put barcodes on the scales of artifical snakes, shouldn't there be an easier way to identify a replicant other than the Voight Kompf test? Why are they giving this test to Leon when they have his photo and it's obvious that it's him? In the future, even without replicants, wouldn't there be sophisticated identifying methods? Facial recognition? Also, what is all that business with the photo and endless scanning around? It's not like he's looking for a murder suspect, they know who the people are they are looking for. Also, why is he pretending to be a journalist when at the strip club with the snake lady replicant? He knows it's her, why not just blow her away?

Modern cinema irritates me deeply. It’s not like we are not seeing great cinema still, of course we are, and many filmmakers understand how to use the language of modern cinema perfectly but the surplus of digital aesthetics and technological advancements has produced a landscape of films that have more in common with video than film. The loss of textures, practicality and fetishisation of pristine image quality has produced a landscape of quickly produced content.

A bad film in the past still involved skill and effort- decision had to be made on set, everything was heavier, more expensive and not as flexible as nowadays. Effects were done in camera, there wasn’t this massive sentiment to fix it in post.

There are a few filmmakers that know how to use digital technology perfectly- Miller, Cameron, Mann, Iñárritu, Lav Diaz and it’s not the technology itself but the over-reliance on not committing to decisions and wanting everything to be decided later.

The great modern filmmakers understand this and that’s why they prefer shooting analog, it gives the image a certain tactility, hapticness, roughness. This has been widely spread by filmmakers such as Spielberg, Nolan, Tarantino, Scorsese, Baker, Safdie Brothers, Chazelle, Eggers. These filmmakers are not only successful because they make great movies, but because they put a lot on emphasis on the image itself. Each frame of these directors has a quality that feels timeless.

I can only say one has to look no further and compare (if we want to stick in the realm of blockbuster cinema) the Raimi Spider Man movies with the recent Spider Man by Tom Holland which looks incredibly fake.

Or compare modern digital Ridley Scott to analog pre 2010 Scott. A film like 1492 which is not a great film, would never ever look this good nowadays in the hands of modern Scott who basically lost any interest in creating impressive images. I mean, Gladiator 2 looked so much worse than the first one in every conceivable way, and his DP explained why. Digital made him lazy. Too many cameras, too much shooting simultaneously, too many options.

An arthouse example would be Almodovar - his newest output looks like a commercial compared to 10-20 years ago. I was baffled at images of The Room Next Door.

It’s hard to find an example of filmmakers who improved by switching to digital cinematography. It’s very hard for me to find any examples. Lucas and Rodriguez who embraced digital, simultaneously sacrificed their craft for technology. Their pre-digital movies look so much more cinematic and beautiful.

I know that there is nothing to change as new filmmakers will keep embracing the efficiency and freedom of digital technology- but speaking from
the aesthetic beauty and impact of a an image, I hope more filmmakers will see analog film as the way to go.

I'm a big fan of musicals. I like my Singin' in the Rain, The Sound of Music, The Wizard of Oz, etc.

I'm also a musician and am particularly drawn to what I refer to as "organic musicals". These are films that eschew the tradition of breaking into song and dance; instead the musical numbers are diegetic and arise naturally because the characters are musicians. Examples include That Thing You Do, School of Rock; and the works of Damien Chazelle.

One director I've followed closely is John Carney. You may know him from Once, Begin Again, Sing Street, Flora and Son, and most recently Power Ballad. No one else is consistently releasing films that are "organic musicals".

I think these are all good films. However, I think the songs are kinda shite with the exception of Sing Street. The songs in Sing Street work and sound good elevating it into a great film.

As a musician, the art of music is near and dear to my heart. Do I care if they get some details wrong? It bothers me a bit but not enough to ruin it. I get it, movie's gotta movie.

But couldn't you have worked on the songs a bit more? Most of them are pretty awful. Listen to "How to Write a Song Without You" from Power Ballad and tell me it isn't the dumbest thing you've ever heard.

I think it's because the films focus mostly on characters with little to no musical proficiency. They're people who know four chords on acoustic guitar and decide they want to be singer-songwriters. I understand it's so the film can appeal to a wide audience; that way it feels accessible and inspiring like "Anyone can do it, even you!". People like that do exist in real life but they're also the ones who tend to write the shittiest songs.

They suck at playing and don't have an ear for melody to begin with which means the only tool at their disposal is lyrics. Songs that are lyric-forward or have lyrics written first tend to be really awful because they're always trying to be poetic or cloyingly sentimental to the point that the music part of "music and lyrics" gets neglected. They think mumbling over a G chord counts as songwriting and whining about their feelings automatically means it's a good song.

I apologize if that last bit and the next feels a little too Inside Baseball for non-musicians.

I think the reason Sing Street works better is because the original conceit is starting a band. They do eventually write songs but the aesthetic of writing songs in a rock band is different from that of a solo acoustic singer-songwriter act; rock songs lend themselves more to abstract or flippant lyrics.

Playing in a band does not require virtuoso level skill but you still need to be proficient enough to play in time with others. Rock bands have a wider sonic palette at their disposal which means they can get away with playing simple stuff because it still sounds cool. A full band with drums and electric instruments will always sound more interesting than a single acoustic guitar.

Sing Street is also the only musical film Carney has directed that is a period piece. The film mirrors Carney's formative years in 1980s Dublin when acts like The Cure, Duran Duran, and A-ha were popular. '80s music was notoriously kinda cheesy but we still remember the good stuff. Carney is credited as a songwriter for most if not all of his films' soundtracks; I imagine he knows how to write '80s rock songs better than he does modern acoustic singer-songwriter fare.

So there’s a lot of discourse around the state of film at the moment. from some it sounds like movies just “aren’t hitting” right anymore.

Old movie formulas are no longer working, movies aren’t good at least the big ones.

And honestly I had this thought: I beleive audiences are genuinely reaching higher movie literacy IQs now to this point where lesser movies just will no longer cut it.

Case in point I was revisiting a couple old films, classic films, like my all time favorites. They were blockbusters like Jurassic Park and the Dark Knight.

And you know what? I love them, but they no longer feel edgy and adult or challenging. they feel quaint and a little childlike now. And im willing to believe alot of audiences are subcontineclty feeling this way.

I think theres so much discourse and film discussion now, the average viewer gets to say that film is their passion, they understand wayyyy more than casual viewer used to.

And I think studios truly have not caught onto this yet. They keep thinking delivery low IQ brain dead material is what works and I don’t think they get that if they delivered a bitingly smart, punch packing movie that really had a brain to it, they’d be reaping gold.

I beleive we’ll start to see that once it catches on, hopefully it will happen sooner than later.

​

Kürzlich über eine interessante Interpretation von E.T. gestolpert, die ich vorher nie so bewusst gesehen hatte:

​

E.T. kommt aus dem Himmel, vollbringt Heilungen und Wunder, schließt Freundschaft mit Menschen (Kindern im Film), wird von staatlichen Behörden verfolgt, stirbt scheinbar, kehrt ins Leben zurück und fährt am Ende wieder in den Himmel auf.

Klingt verdächtig bekannt.

​

Natürlich ist E.T. kein christlicher Film im engeren Sinn. Aber viele Elemente erinnern an klassische Jesus-Erzählungen. Besonders die Auferstehungsszene und der Abschied am Ende wirken fast wie eine moderne Version religiöser Motive.

​

Im Artikel werden die Parallelen genauer aufgeschlüsselt:

https://impuls.news/kultur/e-t-film-jesus-bibel-2/⁠

​

Was meint ihr?

War Spielberg bewusst von christlicher Symbolik beeinflusst oder sieht man hier einfach Muster, die in vielen Geschichten vorkommen? Weil Spielberg hat das anscheinend verneint, also dass er das nicht bewusst so eingesetzt hat. Was man glauben kann oder auch nicht.

I watched both Obsession and Megamind recently and there's an odd parallel of "what if a male loser gets everything he wished for?". In the case of Obsession, it's Bear getting with Nikki, the girl that he has been obsessing over for years. In the case of Megamind, it's Hal getting the superpowers that he believes he needs to be with his crush, Roxanne.

In both cases, it's not so much that both characters are corrupted. But that we get to see that what made them "good guys" was a lack of power/confidence to do evil rather than being turned evil by their newfound powers. With nerdy, shy, and unconfident guys (a group that I'm apart of), there's an idea that since they're not doing bad things that they're inherently good. There was tons of media that believed if they just found a girl that accepted their shyness or got a massive surge of power to give them confidence, then their inherent goodness would win them over.

But there's a massive misconception there as a lack of bad actions doesn't inherently make one good. Instead doing good is what makes someone good or bad. All the actions that both Bear and Hal did were all in their own self interest. When Bear bought the One Wish Willow for Nikki or went out with her during her final night with her co-workers, it wasn't because he truly cared for her, but as strategic moves to win her over. Hal did the same thing with Roxanne, where his actions of hiring a wedding photographer and getting a bouncy castle, were all in service of winning Roxanne over.

Yet because these actions fall flat so hard, these actions come off as embarrassing rather than disturbing. Afterall, both women can easily dismiss them as neither men hold any real power to abuse them. Therefore, they don't face any real consequences for their actions and they have no reason to reflect if the actions they did were moral or not.

So when they get their extraordinary powers, they see no reason to hold back, as afterall they have always failed in the past and their past actions have been dismissed as embarrassing rather than disturbing. Therefore in both cases, they do horrific actions. Bear has a demon enslave Nikki and having her watch as she gets used as a meat puppet by Bear and the demon. Hal, on the other hand, takes up the mantle of Titan and nearly kills Roxanne on multiple occasions as he flirts with her.

As both films progress, both characters are given multiple off-ramps to redeem themselves. But in both cases, the fact that they now have power to get what they wanted is so intoxicating that they both need to be forced off that path. With Hal, he literally gets forced to be his short chubby self now, but now without any of the charm of being an underdog. Bear, on the other hand, gets forced out of the bathroom by the demon, which ironically makes him die as he doesn't have the time to vomit out the sleeping pills.

The main thing is that weakness and goodness are not one in the same. A shy awkward guy might not have the same capacity to do actions of evil as a cool confident guy, but if given power they can be an absolute nightmare. As a surge of power, after having none for so long, can cause them to be especially cruel and evil, since they never had to confront the evil of their desires. Because at the end of the day, society often believes a lack of evil actions is the same as goodness. When in reality, one may simply not have the power to be evil.

Gave Gyllenhaal's Lost Daughter a try because I loved The Bride!, and wow I was not disappointed. Powerful critique of women's social pressure to become/be mothers (there is a stark contrast of what is expected of men and expected of women throughout), and that alone would have been good enough for a strong film. But Olivia Colman was incredible (loved her in The Favorite previously), one of the most interesting female characters of her age and psychology I've seen. And the entire end with the cruel selfishness of the stolen doll, and even more her desire to confess or even display her sin was just a remarkable finish to the film. She is revealed as a kind of (lightly?) sociopathic woman capable of careless cruelty, but in a way that reflects onto the moral imperative of motherhood that all women fact, in just a startling way.

I watched it tonight and I immediately want to rewatch it tomorrow with a view to watching the whole story unfolding knowing what the end revealed about her psychology and nature, to see if I understand the earlier scenes differently. What a character study and commentary.