Heckerling’s witty spin on Austen’s “Emma” (a novel about the perils of match-making and injecting yourself into situations in which you don’t belong) has remained a perennial favorite not only because it’s a wise freshening on a classic tale, but because it allows for so much more over and above the Austen-issued drama.
Almost 30 years later (with a Broadway adaptation within the works), “DDLJ” remains an indelible second in Indian cinema. It told a poignant immigrant story with the message that heritage isn't lost even thousands of miles from home, as Raj and Simran honor their families and traditions while pursuing a forbidden love.
It’s fascinating watching Kathyrn Bigelow’s dystopian, slightly-futuristic, anti-police film today. Partly because the director’s later films, such as “Detroit,” veer up to now away from the anarchist bent of “Peculiar Days.” And nonetheless it’s our relationship to footage of Black trauma that is different also.
There is definitely the technique of bloody satisfaction that Eastwood takes. As this country, in its endless foreign adventurism, has so many times in ostensibly defending democracy.
The timelessness of “Central Station,” a film that betrays Not one of the mawkishness that elevated so much of your ’90s middlebrow feel-good fare, is often owed to how deftly the script earns the bond that varieties between its mismatched characters, and how lovingly it tends for the vulnerabilities they expose in each other. The convenience with which Dora rests her head on Josué’s lap in a very poignant scene indicates that whatever twist of fate brought this pair together under such trying circumstances was looking out for them both.
We could never be sure who’s who in this film, and whether the blood on their hands is real or a diabolical trick. That being said, one particular thing about “Lost Highway” is absolutely set: This could be the Lynch movie that’s the most of its time. Not in a nasty way, of course, even so the film just screams
Tailored from Jeffrey Eugenides’s wistful novel and featuring voice-over narration lifted from its pages (browse by Giovanni Ribisi), the film friends into the lives with the Lisbon sisters alongside a clique of neighborhood boys. Mesmerized from the willowy young women — particularly Lux (Kirsten Dunst), the household coquette — the young gents study and surveil them with a sense of longing that is by turns amorous and meditative.
Established in Calvinist small town atop the Scottish Highlands, it's the first part sex video tamil of Von Trier’s “Golden Heart” trilogy as Watson plays a woman who may have sex with other Guys to please her husband after a mishap has left him immobile. —
A dizzying epic of reinvention, Paul Thomas Anderson’s seedy and sensational second film found the 28-year-aged directing with the swagger of the young porn star in possession of a massive
The film ends with a haunting repetition of names, ullu videos all melons tube former lovers and friends of Jarman’s who died of AIDS. This haunting elegy is meditation on disease, silence, as well as the void will be the closest film has ever come to representing Dying. —JD
Adapted from the László Krasznahorkai novel on the same name and maintaining the book’s dance-motivated chronology, Béla Tarr’s seven-hour “Sátántangó” tells a Möbius strip-like story about the collapse of a farming collective in post-communist Hungary, news of which inspires a mystical charismatic vulture of a person named Irimiás — played by composer Mihály Vig — to “return from the dead” and prey about the desolation he finds Among the many desperate and easily manipulated townsfolk.
There’s a purity to the poetic realism of Moodysson’s filmmaking, which often ignores the lower-finances constraints of shooting at night. Grittiness becomes quite beautiful in his hands, creating a rare and visceral ease and comfort for his young cast and also the lives they so naturally inhabit for Moodysson’s camera. —CO
, Justin Timberlake beautifully negotiates the bumpy terrain from disapproval to acceptance to love.
The very fact that Swedish filmmaker Lukus Moodysson’s “Fucking Åmål” needed to be retitled something as anodyne as “Show Me Love” for its U.S. release is usually a perfect testament to some portrait of teenage mundoporn cruelty and xvideos2 sexuality that still feels more honest than the American movie business can handle.