knives out was amazing
may be my favorite movie of the year, everything feels so carefully put together
may be my favorite movie of the year, everything feels so carefully put together
I just saw Knives Out earlier. I loved it but whoever said it was spot on. Why the fuck was Daniel Craig playing Frank Underwood?
By data Go To Posthttps://www.hollywoodreporter.com/news/irishman-tops-national-board-review-2019-honorees-full-list-1259206I was hoping Netflix would put it out internationally at the same time it releases theatrically on the US but apparently it's coming out a month after.
I guess I should try to see Uncut Gems
Weirdly cut trailer. Way too much voiceover and exposition. Wish it would've let it breathe a bit and held back on revealing so much of the plot.
But still hyped.
But still hyped.
By n8 dogg Go To PostLooks mediocreSounds like a Bond movie.
Bond is now going to be compared against Fallout too. I know they’re totally different vibes, but the action has to smang m8
By n8 dogg Go To PostBond is now going to be compared against Fallout too. I know they’re totally different vibes, but the action has to smang m8That motorcycle stunt in the trailer is apparently a real stunt, so they're bringing it. Plus, we've already seen Craig-era Bond do some amazing set pieces/stunts, with Casino Royale for me still topnotch for the franchise and action movies in that sphere the last 15 years.
By Laboured Go To PostWhat we’ve all been asking for.
lovely <3
Think he and Pacino are getting nommed. And Pitt for OUATIH, and Hopkins for Two Popes. Then probably Hanks.
Lots of white nominees this year. Lupita u r our only hope.
Lots of white nominees this year. Lupita u r our only hope.
i dont think pitt should be nominated for Once Upon a Time, the role didn't ask much of him besides "look cool". He might get nominated for Ad Astra.
Pesci though, far and away the best part of the irishman and the best performance ive seen all year in a movie.
Rami Malek in Mr Robot this year tho, whew
Rami Malek in Mr Robot this year tho, whew
I really like how the current batch of CG Japanese movies look. I dont know if the new Dragon Quest movie is done by the same people but it also has that kind of look.
By data Go To PostI really like how the current batch of CG Japanese movies look. I dont know if the new Dragon Quest movie is done by the same people but it also has that kind of look.Doraemon: Stand By Me looked great and had a pretty good story too.
edit: Definitely these guys: https://shirogumi.com/
By data Go To PostI really like how the current batch of CG Japanese movies look. I dont know if the new Dragon Quest movie is done by the same people but it also has that kind of look.The Frozen effect
The Irishman (some spoilers)
A second watch of this (in less than a week!) confirms my initial reaction; it's a stone-cold masterpiece. The accumulation of detail here, things left out of lesser films because they're seen as 'inessential', only adds to its power. Take Frank, halfway through this tale of bloodshed and betrayal, choosing to share with whomever his listener is (his priest in confession? The author of the book the film is adapted from? The watching audience?) that the secret to the best hot dogs in America is they fry them in beer. It's small. It seems unnecessary. But it further adds to the verisimilitude of the film. Multiply that again and again, pair it with events as seismic as the Kennedy assassination and ones as small as a child's actions at a bowling game, and you have a living, breathing world that the characters of this film inhabit.
Much has been said about the first two-thirds really only existing to justify the final act. Nonsense, I say; they develop the relationship between Frank and his two families (the Mafia and the union, obviously; certainly not his own!). It's all in the details. The watch he's gifted by the Bufalinos making way for a watch gifted by Hoffa, usurped by Russell's ring. The way Hoffa leaves the door open a smidgen, echoed by Frank in the film's closing. The fact Frank actively contributes towards a CIA operation in Cuba without ever really noticing because he is the perfect vehicle for America's amorality and ruthlessness. It's that accumulation of knowledge and of detail about these characters and the life they lead that makes the last hour work. Taken as a whole, it's entirely necessary. I wouldn't lose a single second.
Even if you aren't moved by the film's plotting itself, the technical proficiency on show is outstanding. Schoonmaker's work here is extraordinary, taking Zaillan's impressive script and breaking it into chunks so cleverly and so clearly. The score is ominous and oppressive, the colour palette and cinematography telling exactly the story that Scorsese intends: that this life is devoid of life.
Marvellous also is the acting. De Niro is the best he's been since 'Jackie Brown', reserved and communicative with his eyes, his sighs, his furrowed brow. Pacino too is marvellous; he adds such warmth and generosity to Hoffa that the final act is made all the more tragic. Anna Paquin holds the key to the entire movie; taking both her portrayal and child-Peggy into account, she passes judgement on Frank long before he does on himself. Two scenes standout, and make a mockery of the notion her line count implies she doesn't matter. First, when she looks at her father over dinner, before looking away. Frank's eyes hover over the newspaper, staring at her long after she's averted her own gaze. The two cannot communicate, will not communicate. It's what's left unsaid that truly has power. Second, when child-Peggy sees Frank leave with a gun in his pocket. Next time we find ourselves at the Sheeran home, Peggy is a woman grown. All those years lost; and because Frank is the one narrating, the implication is that he doesn't remember those years either.
Pesci is the real standout; the scene where he argues with Hoffa at Frank's dinner is again added power because of our knowledge of his past career. Tommy DeVito would have lunged through the air the same way he does to Billy Batts, but Russell Bufalino stands. He takes a breath. He takes stock. And he slithers back to his seat, next four steps already in his mind. It's an extraordinary portrayal of restraint and control.
It's also a film that moves from a thoroughly excellent one to impossibly-good status because of the context of its creation. Seeing Scorsese come back to the genre which he (fairly or otherwise) has come to be associated with; reuniting with De Niro and Pesci for the first time in 20 years; Pesci's return from retirement; and Pacino working with Scorsese for the first time... it's been said time and time again, but it feels like the final word on gangster movies, where the stars aligned for this team to give us the definitive statement: this life sucks the soul out of you and gives you nothing in return.
The final hour is haunting. Haunting. From the moment Russell looks up at Frank in the kitchen to its final scene, it becomes a horror movie. First, the clinical, efficient betrayal of brotherhood. Jimmy's acceptance of the situation because of Frank's presence; Frank's bare-faced lies; the way Jimmy moves to leave the house, not once thinking about any ulterior motives on Frank's behalf; even the 'Macbeth-porter-scene'-esque conversation between Sally Bugs and Chuckie imbuing the action with a sense of morbid humour and dramatic irony... the cumulative effect of it all, even before the soul-destroying imagery of the final half-hour, is numbing.
Once Hoffa is gone, the film's thesis makes itself clear. You pick this life, and you prepare to be the only one left standing. Scorsese's trademark ambiguity is on perfect display here; to what extent does Frank deserve the life he now leads, picking up discarded cigarette butts, picking out tombs, wondering which of his friends has met the business end of a gun only to be told its the cancer that got them? He's an amoral, horrifying character. But he is a reflection of the choices we all make, the life we'll all lead, before time - the ultimate contract killer, with less remorse or morality than even the most prolific of hitmen could ever have - comes for us all.
Writers everywhere have written far more than me, and far better. But, make no mistake, this is an extraordinary achievement. Scorsese's third outright masterwork in a row.
A second watch of this (in less than a week!) confirms my initial reaction; it's a stone-cold masterpiece. The accumulation of detail here, things left out of lesser films because they're seen as 'inessential', only adds to its power. Take Frank, halfway through this tale of bloodshed and betrayal, choosing to share with whomever his listener is (his priest in confession? The author of the book the film is adapted from? The watching audience?) that the secret to the best hot dogs in America is they fry them in beer. It's small. It seems unnecessary. But it further adds to the verisimilitude of the film. Multiply that again and again, pair it with events as seismic as the Kennedy assassination and ones as small as a child's actions at a bowling game, and you have a living, breathing world that the characters of this film inhabit.
Much has been said about the first two-thirds really only existing to justify the final act. Nonsense, I say; they develop the relationship between Frank and his two families (the Mafia and the union, obviously; certainly not his own!). It's all in the details. The watch he's gifted by the Bufalinos making way for a watch gifted by Hoffa, usurped by Russell's ring. The way Hoffa leaves the door open a smidgen, echoed by Frank in the film's closing. The fact Frank actively contributes towards a CIA operation in Cuba without ever really noticing because he is the perfect vehicle for America's amorality and ruthlessness. It's that accumulation of knowledge and of detail about these characters and the life they lead that makes the last hour work. Taken as a whole, it's entirely necessary. I wouldn't lose a single second.
Even if you aren't moved by the film's plotting itself, the technical proficiency on show is outstanding. Schoonmaker's work here is extraordinary, taking Zaillan's impressive script and breaking it into chunks so cleverly and so clearly. The score is ominous and oppressive, the colour palette and cinematography telling exactly the story that Scorsese intends: that this life is devoid of life.
Marvellous also is the acting. De Niro is the best he's been since 'Jackie Brown', reserved and communicative with his eyes, his sighs, his furrowed brow. Pacino too is marvellous; he adds such warmth and generosity to Hoffa that the final act is made all the more tragic. Anna Paquin holds the key to the entire movie; taking both her portrayal and child-Peggy into account, she passes judgement on Frank long before he does on himself. Two scenes standout, and make a mockery of the notion her line count implies she doesn't matter. First, when she looks at her father over dinner, before looking away. Frank's eyes hover over the newspaper, staring at her long after she's averted her own gaze. The two cannot communicate, will not communicate. It's what's left unsaid that truly has power. Second, when child-Peggy sees Frank leave with a gun in his pocket. Next time we find ourselves at the Sheeran home, Peggy is a woman grown. All those years lost; and because Frank is the one narrating, the implication is that he doesn't remember those years either.
Pesci is the real standout; the scene where he argues with Hoffa at Frank's dinner is again added power because of our knowledge of his past career. Tommy DeVito would have lunged through the air the same way he does to Billy Batts, but Russell Bufalino stands. He takes a breath. He takes stock. And he slithers back to his seat, next four steps already in his mind. It's an extraordinary portrayal of restraint and control.
It's also a film that moves from a thoroughly excellent one to impossibly-good status because of the context of its creation. Seeing Scorsese come back to the genre which he (fairly or otherwise) has come to be associated with; reuniting with De Niro and Pesci for the first time in 20 years; Pesci's return from retirement; and Pacino working with Scorsese for the first time... it's been said time and time again, but it feels like the final word on gangster movies, where the stars aligned for this team to give us the definitive statement: this life sucks the soul out of you and gives you nothing in return.
The final hour is haunting. Haunting. From the moment Russell looks up at Frank in the kitchen to its final scene, it becomes a horror movie. First, the clinical, efficient betrayal of brotherhood. Jimmy's acceptance of the situation because of Frank's presence; Frank's bare-faced lies; the way Jimmy moves to leave the house, not once thinking about any ulterior motives on Frank's behalf; even the 'Macbeth-porter-scene'-esque conversation between Sally Bugs and Chuckie imbuing the action with a sense of morbid humour and dramatic irony... the cumulative effect of it all, even before the soul-destroying imagery of the final half-hour, is numbing.
Once Hoffa is gone, the film's thesis makes itself clear. You pick this life, and you prepare to be the only one left standing. Scorsese's trademark ambiguity is on perfect display here; to what extent does Frank deserve the life he now leads, picking up discarded cigarette butts, picking out tombs, wondering which of his friends has met the business end of a gun only to be told its the cancer that got them? He's an amoral, horrifying character. But he is a reflection of the choices we all make, the life we'll all lead, before time - the ultimate contract killer, with less remorse or morality than even the most prolific of hitmen could ever have - comes for us all.
Writers everywhere have written far more than me, and far better. But, make no mistake, this is an extraordinary achievement. Scorsese's third outright masterwork in a row.
One thing that stick with me Nate, is the story he told Russ about making enemy soldiers dig their own graves, and wondering if they did a good job, the guy with the gun will change his mind.
In the end, he picked a beautiful green coffin for himself to be cremated in, and a nice vault. He talks to a priest everyday, in an effort to repent.
Maybe if he did a good job, the guy up there will change his mind.
In the end, he picked a beautiful green coffin for himself to be cremated in, and a nice vault. He talks to a priest everyday, in an effort to repent.
Maybe if he did a good job, the guy up there will change his mind.
nice post n8. i'm in awe of the film. can't really overstate the impact of the film's meta commentary, because for me that's what made the final third such an incredible piece of cinema. seeing these iconic figureheads of the genre wilt away was powerful within the context of the film, but the way it mirrors the end of their acting careers, and this era of mobster film is just chefkiss.gif. even looking at the cgi, maybe it wasn't that great, but it gave us something we shouldn't have gotten. the irishman felt like the one last push hoffa didn't get to give. the perfect swan song.
maybe it's just recency bias but i think it's my fav scorsese
maybe it's just recency bias but i think it's my fav scorsese
n8 writing about the hot dog scene reminds me... the garlic cutting scene in goodfellas is—i hate to use this word so please forgive me, bud—iconic. it truly is. there was a real passion for food in that movie.
i missed that in irishman.
i missed that in irishman.
By bud Go To Postn8 writing about the hot dog scene reminds me… the garlic cutting scene in goodfellas is—i hate to use this word so please forgive me, bud—iconic. it truly is. there was a real passion for food in that movie.
i missed that in irishman.
You didn’t like Hoffa eating ice cream every five minutes
Or the bread and the good grape juice
By n8 dogg Go To PostOr the bread and the good grape juiceI really, really liked that scene.
By n8 dogg Go To PostYou didn’t like Hoffa eating ice cream every five minutes
Or the bread and the good grape juice
forgot about the ice cream. that looked so good.
whenever i see people eating ice cream out of a glass, i want to have it, too.
By Flutter Go To PostRuss had no teeth, and that's the closest he could get to bread with balsamic vinegar.No.......
They were trying to replicate bread and wine.
Yeah it’s bread and wine. It’s a religious ritual called Intinction.
It’s where the term break bread comes from
It’s where the term break bread comes from
By /sy Go To PostNo…….
They were trying to replicate bread and wine.
By Apollo Go To PostYeah it’s bread and wine. It’s a religious ritual called Intinction.OH
It’s where the term break bread comes from
Currently feeling annoyed that the Kingdom of Heaven Netflix version is not the Director's Cut. That was one of my favorite movies ever.