To Buy

As I watched this movie, I was reminded of a preacher's words in talking about how viewing grand and beautiful things like the Grand Canyon or gymnastics turn your eyes towards God because of how marvellous they are, and that was the feeling I got watching 2001: A Space Odyssey, because the movie is a marvel, plain and simple. All I can say is that I felt incredibly dull and stupid coming out of it, and that words failed me as I struggled to describe how I felt about this movie.

Even now, everything seems like hyperbole as I try to talk about this film, my first Kubrick (can you imagine?). The film is iconic in ever sense of the word; sometimes incomprehensible (but then again, so many beautiful and strange things are), often magical and mesmerising (the first few shots of the space stations wheeling across the sky are particularly hypnotic), even manipulative (in particular, because of the film's use of music to manufacture emotion, not necessarily in a negative sense, don't get me wrong, but the swells of the Blue Danube and eerie operatics surrounding HAL 3000 certainly go a long way in making one feel a certain way).

I can definitely say that I liked it, and although in all honesty I can say that I couldn't understand a lot of it (particularly that last bit!) and that did temper my enjoyment of the movie somewhat, but I was definitely moved, stimulated, provoked, and after all, isn't that the function of art?

Too many things to say about the amazing shots and effects, although occasionally the movie's stillness may bore or confuse. I can totally understand how this is a love-it-or-loathe-it kind of film as it can be frustrating to watch something which seems so... inert (can't think of a better word right now - immobile? Static? Goes back to my original problem of describing this). But one thing that puts me in the "pro" camp is just that it can be completely incomprehensible why someone would like a certain piece of art or sculpture or music but still have it evoke a certain emotion or twinge in one's heart, and THAT is what 2001 does for me. Evocative is probably the best way to describe it.

Still, however, a thought-provoking, inadequately describable experience, by turns eerie, frightening, heartwrenching, suspenseful and poetic. Glad I got to see it in theatres.

Christopher Nolan is a master director, and he brings the Dark Knight to brooding life in Christian Bale, who is great. What makes this movie amazing is the stellar ensemble (except Katie Holmes) and the noir overtones. Superb.

I knew nothing about this movie going into it, but I knew I wanted to watch a Jarmusch movie at some point, and I was definitely not disappointed. Down By Law looks and sounds like a Tennessee Williams play and goes down real slow and steady in its Big Easy setting. The blues music adds to its noir-ish, seductive charm. I can only describe this as a prison-break buddy film, but what a rich buddy film it is. Roberto Benigni (pre-La Vita e Bella) is a wonderful comic foil for the two brooding cons Zach (Tom Waits) and Jack (John Lurie), and their reluctant friendship is a beautiful thing to see in its spontaneity and almost utter improbability. We don't know anything about why these guys were set up, how they managed to escape, and what happens after, and frankly, I don't care. The movie is absolutely gorgeous in its tracks and pans and intriguing angles, and New Orleans comes alive under Jarmusch's direction. In the commentary, he said he had never been to New Orleans before making this movie, but it doesn't feel that way. Watch this!

Wonderfully put together, this anti-war film's occasional cheesiness is eclipsed by its stunning plotline.

Lovely, lovely candy-coloured film with a role that feels crafted for Kirsten Dunst. Dunst is great with her subtle mannerisms, subtly taking on her child-woman role without overly maudlin displays of emotion. The movie is subtle, elegant, and the Palace of Versailles is so breathtakingly beautiful it almost has a life of its own, and Coppola's photography does wonderful justice to its beauty, as well as to the gorgeous fashions of the 18th century (what clothes! what shoes! what hair!). The nature scenes and montages are great, and Dunst is absolutely charming as Marie Antoinette (my favourite scene is her rueful grin as she stands naked and cold, waiting for someone of the highest rank to dress her: "This is ridiculous.") Jason Schwartzman is good as the awkward Louis, and his interactions with Dunst are rather touching, and the rest of the supporting cast is quite good (especially Rose Byrne as the hilarious Duchesse de Polinyak[sp?]), although this movie is ALL ABOUT DUNST. And why not? Good mix of classical and modern music (except for that horrible Bow Wow Wow version of "Fools Rush In," ugh!), and Coppola has a nice light touch with the sparse dialogue, choosing (rightly) instead to focus on Marie Antoinette's facial gestures. The bits involving the Revolution feel a bit tacked on, as if a movie involving Marie Antoinette HAS to have the Revolution in it, so let's just get that over with, but the two ending scenes are lovely, concluding the movie as it began - subtly and elegantly. Awesome.

I haven't felt this excited about a movie in a really long time, and the opportunity to see Hitchcock's classic thriller, oft-copied but never duplicated, on the big screen was one I'm really glad I didn't pass up (I nearly did, and I'm actually rather sad I can't watch it again today). I haven't given a movie 5 stars in forever, and even now I'm a bit wary of doing it for this film since this means it's automatically going on my favourites list, but I think it's worth it.

Man, there are so many things to love about this movie. Although it starts off rather weakly, with the gorgeous Grace Kelly coming off as a bit green, the movie builds into a tightly woven ball of suspense with all the leads working together fabulously to create one of the best edge-of-my-seat experiences I've ever had. It's no wonder they call Hitchcock the master of suspense; his masterful composition of each individual window, the alleyway, and Jeff's (Stewart's) own apartment heightens the sense of claustrophobia, isolation and curiosity. Every moment is loaded with suspense - (POSSIBLE SPOLERS) is Ms. Lonely Hearts going to kill herself? Is the puppy going to dig up something in the garden? When's Doyle going to get back, and has something happened to him? (END SPOILER ALERT) Especially for someone with an overanalytical mind and overactive imagination like me, this movie leads you merrily (and literally) down the garden path until you're not sure what's what and you start doubting your own doubts.

Hitchcock's muting of the action across the way is so effective in making you strain to figure out what's going on in the apartment block that the final scenes with Ms. Lonely Hearts and Ms. Torso where you can finally hear what they're saying are pretty jarring, bringing me back to earth with a resounding thud after nearly two hours of trying to figure out if Jeff and Liza have really stumbled upon the crime they think they have.

It never loses its momentum, unlike modern movies which often build to the weakest of anticlimaxes. Strangely enough, the fact that there are still unfinished questions about the crime at the end doesn't detract from the movie's climax, and only serves to heighten the feeling of excitement all the way to the closing credits.

The leads are all really strong, as well; at first blush, Thelma Ritter's cantankerous Nurse Stella was the best thing about this film, drawing laughs with her common sense wisdom and non-mincing of words. But as the movie progresses, Grace Kelly goes from just being a gloriously beautiful picture (and what a picture! Sigh, love those clothes and that hair and smile) to becoming a savvy and daring sleuth who simply sparkles with charisma and wicked humour. Jimmy Stewart is charming and relaxed as always, and the banter flows easily between him and the women.

Even the music is perfect, not only playing a pivotal role in that climactic scene, but also building that feeling of tension through minor-key jazz beats. I think I have been only been so tightly wound up one other time, with another favourite Hitchcock movie (Rope).

Thoroughly wonderful! They sure don't make movies like this any more.

Suspenseful. The editing is used to masterful effect - it's all done in two very looooong takes! A triumph in blocking and direction.

I came out of the theatre with a humongous grin on my face after seeing this, and I don't think I'm indulging in hyperbole when I say that this is the feel-good movie of the year. First, the tremendously witty, incredible dialogue ("Are you the king of anything?... Aren't you glad you're not a Gollum?" and "I left my thimbles and socialist readings at home" hee hee) is superb, and the movie is chock-a-block full of clever literary devices which shouldn't work in film but somehow do in this movie. The cast is absolutely amazing, with the stellar Will Ferrell topping the list. I have to admit that I nurtured a seething hatred of the man after his string of stupid movies, but this movie has completely redeemed him - Ferrell is sublimely restrained, likeable, and NORMAL. Dustin Hoffman, Maggie Gyllenhaal and Emma Thompson are all perfectly cast in their roles. While the story itself isn't so mind-shatteringly amazing, it IS clever and plays out in a very innovative, heartwarming manner that papers over any cracks in the storyline. I predict Oscar nods, and will be very disappointed if this screenplay isn't nominated. AWESOME - poignant, funny, and made me feel like life is worth living; I'm definitely going to watch it again!

At first glance, a simple ghost love story, with shades of something deeper glimmering on the surface. At its heart, however, Ugetsu is stunning and multi-faceted in its explorations of life after death, criticisms of the military, capitalism and the aristocracy, and a beautiful-looking film to boot.

Mizoguchi's camera moves fluidly through the rural life lovingly defended in the film, but even his scenes at Lady Wakasa's manor are hauntingly gorgeous, most notably a brief but spookily beautiful scene where servants appear out of nowhere in a carefully choreographed candlelighting scene. Sent chills down my spine, it did. Also gorgeous: the scene where the two couples are rowing in a misty lake, and the idyllic love scene between Genjuro and Lady Wakasa, which pans expansively across the landscape in a dizzying exploration of the heights of new love.

It's a surprisingly daring movie for its time, and I was especially struck by its willingness to portray sex as something more than just rainbows and butterflies, unlike its contemporaries. Yet, the movie is unafraid also to portray love of a more traditional kind, and the love between the two main couples, Tobei-Ohama and Genjuro-Miyagi is beautifully fleshed out, surviving criticism, war, brokenness, poverty, and even death.

I may be reading too much into it, but its release after the calamity of WWII also serves of a reminder of the brutality of war and the rise of capitalism in its wake, ruining the simple pleasures of family life in the pursuit of wealth and glory. I mean, I'm no anti-capitalist, but the movie certainly put across its ideas in a very convincing manner, with the result being multidimensional characters and a deep story.

I suppose my only criticisms are somewhat circumstantial; I was watching it on a plane and the subtitles on the airplane copy were dreadful and almost unreadable, and the acting is not terrific although I love the way the character of the somewhat shrewish Ohama (the wannabe samurai's wife) was portrayed, and Genjuro the potter is also pretty well-acted despite his forays into scenery-chomping.

A beautiful film and worth watching again; there are so many things to explore here.

WALL-E is possibly the best animated feature I have ever seen.

Just a few weeks ago I was bemoaning the loss of 2D animation, and I was definitely not interested in seeing this movie. But I'm glad I did, as this movie, while deceptively simple in its story and premise, contains a wealth of poignancy and complexity in the interactions of WALL-E and his EVE.

You all know the story - humans destroy the planet with their compulsive materialism - but I don't think that's the important message in this movie. It's odd that a non-speaking little garbage compacting robot is more human than all the people in this movie, and the first half of the film is touching in its portrayal of WALL-E as the last man standing in a forgotten, dusty planet, even though he's a robot. The little touches are astounding, from WALL-E hanging up his tracks before turning off for the night, to his admonishment and worry over his cockroach pal, to his glowing "eyes" as he watches the Hello, Dolly video over and over again. WALL-E is the ultimate pack rat, something I can relate to, especially as the little robot treasures the old things of a forgotten age, you feel nostalgic for a time that's still here.

Because of the lack of dialogue, the first half of WALL-E is all the more stunning in its lonely portrayal of a defiantly happy little robot - this, I believe, is what I Am Legend could have been, although admittedly the latter movie had a grimmer tone to it. You see the end of the world in a starker way here, especially when WALL-E is painstakingly building his massive towers of garbage, and when he desperately tries to find love with EVE even as she's in hibernate mode or whatever.

Despite this dystopian view, WALL-E is still incredibly optimistic for the future of humanity. I love the closing credits where WALL-E and his gang of robots are shown in hieroglyphics to be teaching the world to live again. And even apart from the message, WALL-E is a lovely movie, with the balletic space dance between WALL-E and EVE and EVE's whirling through the air following her first appearance on earth coming to mind as spectacular examples of this movie's beauty.

I haven't even gotten to EVE yet! What a wonderfully thought out character; I'd read somewhere that EVE had no emotions, unlike WALL-E, but I would hotly disagree with that assessment - EVE is possibly even more human than WALL-E, with her angry kicking things around after failing to find what she's looking for on Earth, the evident frustration in her "voice" as WALL-E does something silly again, and (SPOILER ALERT!) her frantic rebuilding of a broken WALL-E, whom she's obviously come to care about.

EVE's interactions with WALL-E are really touching, and it's a pas de deux that may rival some of the greatest love stories out there.

You also have to love the minor characters like that cleaning robot and the crazy hyper robot who beats up all of the security guard robots, all of whom add humour to a movie, which while having a dark message, is still light and entertaining and often hilarious.

I couldn't really find any flaws with this movie; even the human parts fit wonderfully with the robot stories, and you're rooting for the captain all the way even though he's been shown to be somewhat of a simpleton throughout the movie.

As well, you can't go wrong with a Thomas Newman score. Man, I love that guy! The music for this movie is sometimes otherworldly, sometimes cute and tinkly, but always appropriate, adding to an already well-crafted atmosphere.

Fantastic movie, and well worth watching again.

I watched this for the second time last night, and a lot of the things which stayed with me the first time I watched it are still delightful - Almodovar's candy-coloured sets, his loving tribute to women, the madcap humour slapped on thick. I even discovered a few new things, such as Almodovar's love of old Hollywood and his little touches in homage to Hitchcock, Cukor, The Wizard of Ozand the original bad girl Joan Crawford. Indeed, Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown contains a lot of the hallmark Almodovar touches, and the movie is a lot of fun, if nothing else. It's a melodrama, it's a comedy, it's a lot of things.

But it's still curiously unsatisfying, and it certainly lacks the sensitivity and realism he places in his later movies, and it's not quite polished, despite showing some early promise. I can't pinpoint it to a specific scene, but the movie definitely is the work of a filmmaker who's growing and developing in his ways.

Here we see a wonderfully rich colour palette - oh the reds, pinks, electric blues! - and Carmen Maura is gorgeous as the barely-in-control Pepa, who rages around making sedative gazpacho (in a gloriously coloured scene), slapping people and then quickly reining it in to lavish some love on the gawky son (a totally geeky Antonio Banderas!) of her ex-lover, the suave and absent Ivan. Perhaps that's the problem: Pepa's wildly varied emotions could work for a woman who's dealing with heartbreak but somehow are just that little bit over the top so it becomes slapstick. Almodovar does mood swings so well in Volver and All About My Mother, but here it needs to be reined in just a tad.

Nonetheless, it's a good movie, and we see Almodovar shine in the care that he puts into the supporting characters; each one is crafted so that they stand out even in their limited appearances, and not one seems two-dimensional, not even the elusive Ivan who is at once pathetic, charming and weak despite only appearing on-screen three times. Pepa's closing scene with Ivan is also stunning, as we see a woman tired of chasing after her lost love, who is still standing tall and still capable of experiencing laughter after heartbreak.

I vacillated between keeping this one at 3.5 and upping it to 4 stars, but I think it deserves the extra half-star as I think about it. Quirky and cute.

From the moment I saw the trailer for this, I knew it was going to be charming. I'm not usually one for documentaries, but what's not to love about old people singing rock songs, if you just think about the comedic possibilities?

I wasn't disappointed; from its opening minutes, showing an older lady wailing and speak-singing The Clash's ("The Crash?") "Should I Stay Or Should I Go?", Young@Heart is irresistible and irrepressibly optimistic, even through moments of mourning. I guess this is a spoiler, so don't read to the end of this passage if you're not prepared to, but what can you expect with a movie about very, very old people except that there's going to be death? I cried and cried and cried every time there was a reference to one of the two deaths in the movie, especially during the touching solo rendition of Coldplay's "Fix You," but this isn't a sad movie. Far from it.

There are moments of poignancy, and these aren't glossed over at all - rather, the camera lingers and gives the subjects some time to breathe rather than hurrying along to the next happy moment. I think especially of wonderful Joe Benoit, my favourite person in the whole doc, whose lovely smile barely wavers even as he sits alone in the frame with an IV in his arm.

Still, as I said, it's not a sad movie, just a sensitive one. There are so many moments of laughter, as you might expect from observing a bunch of 80-year-olds trying to scream like James Brown or strut about while singing "Stayin' Alive," and of course, when the doc takes time to let us see these people beyond their roles in the choir, as lovers, comedians, regular patrons at your local diner. You never get the sense that the filmmaker is trying to manipulate your emotions (even though you know this isn't all there is), but rather, you simply see a group of wonderful, funny people who get annoyed and tired and sick and sad and flirty even though by all norms, they're at the end of their roads.

There are a few weaknesses, of course: Bob Cilman, the choir's director, is given very little attention despite his screen time, as we learn very little about him and how he got involved in this, how he feels about these people. We get a glimpse of it when he talks to them on the phone, and you can tell that he's worried about these seniors, but still, we learn little about him. As well, the camerawork is not spectacular, and the grainy quality certainly doesn't add to the experience.

But oh, what a lovely movie this is, and it gives me hope that the end of life can be as joyful and beautiful as the beginning. These old people have such wondrous exuberance, and it's impossible to remain unmoved in the face of such scenes as Lenny zipping down the road in a rickety old car, or Eleanor flirting with the camera crew, or Dora dancing joyfully in the back of the chorus practice room. Or, on the flip side, watching Fred watch the Coldplay music video by himself in a darkened room, or looking at Joe's lovely smiling face in the Young@Heart poster being pinned up in a diner.

Wonderful and life-affirming.