Ordet... How ironic, bearing the name "The Word," a film so measured and precise, especially in terms of its screenplay, that I find myself, poor me, having to use words to assess it. What more can I do than be sincere and admit that the possibility of not finding the right words to encompass this splendid work disheartens me?
Every element in this work, whether a visual detail, a verbal exchange, or a musical note, is infused with meaning. Nothing lacks purpose, especially considering that the theme revolves around the gap created in individuals with the advent of modernity. It explores the quest for a new response to replace the rupture of spirituality dependent on God and the need for a renewed subjectivity free from metaphysical constraints.
Emerging from a strictly secular diegetic universe, even inevitably liberal, no normative subjectivity that unites individuals is envisioned. Not even in the realm of love, where reciprocity might seem more achievable than in faith. With perfect cinematic eloquence, a portrayal of fragmented, broken, and decentered subjects unfolds. In this scenario, each person must forge their own response in the solitude inherent in this reality.
Dreyer's intention was not to claim a religion or faith as an authority and foundation, a moral and absolute leadership providing a reason for a better life. His focus was not on finding solace or divine redemption but rather on discovering practical and useful knowledge in life. One of the film's greatest virtues lies in not delving into the specific theological differences causing the conflict between the two families. It suffices to observe their similar doctrinal rigidity, lack of flexibility, and authoritarianism. While distinguishing between the Christianity of the Borgens and the Petersens, whose theologians seem represented in the portraits adorning their homes, could help pinpoint the coordinates of their respective doctrines, the film is content to present their disagreements and opposition not as a clash between cults but as the residual persistence of fanaticism and intolerance. What the film dramatically emphasizes is the speed with which their convictions become fundamentalist, denying something as human and inherent to life as love, in the name of their doctrinal abstractions and that instance positioned above existence, called divinity.
To conclude, Ignar's return to life not only serves as the film's closure but also stands as the most relevant deus ex machina in cinema, constituting one of the most notable cinematic miracles. It opens up a realm beyond the narrative, providing a final discursive gesture that establishes an inherently metacinematographic quality in the sensible and figurative, logically rooted and intertwined in the unfolding plot, a consequence of its own organicity. As Jankelevitch notes: "emphasis, which means little by saying much - as evidenced by much of contemporary cinema, saturated with shots and special effects - is the regime of extravagance and vanity; whereas litotes or the greatest possible attenuation of what one wants to convey, which means much by saying little, is the regime of economy and greater spiritual density." The internalization of the external and the externalization of the internal, along with the evident intrusion into established codes, and the will to express the most by saying the least, equally characterize Ordet.
In an additional note, I would like to highlight that Ordet is one of those rare cinematic gems that stands out for its uniqueness even in the way it is presented to the audience. It is one of the few films that dispenses with the traditional end credits, defying the usual convention. This decision, though seemingly small, underscores the film's ability to break away from established norms and immerse the viewer even more deeply in its unforgettable narrative. A reminder that, at times, the magic of cinema also lies in bold and unconventional choices that make a work stand out. Or maybe it's just a matter of my blu-ray version and the montage that was screened at the theater where I saw it.
The editing often appears abrupt, disregarding the raccord between two consecutive shots. However, instead of harming it, it imparts a remarkable touch of personality. This can be observed when Michel flirts with Patricia in his car. The editing introduces a new shot with each new flirtation, sacrificing visual continuity in a self-referential montage. In one of his attempts to steal cars, Michel disappears running from right to left in one shot, only to reappear from the left in the next, contrary to the recommendations of classical norms.
On the other hand, the realistic treatment of sound is sacrificed. Sound effects (such as gunshots) and the music used vary in volume and realism between shots. This is a consequence of the technical equipment employed.
It's worth noting that in some scenes, characters address the audience, as seen at the beginning of the film when Michel turns to the camera to address the audience (which is known as breaking the fourth wall): "If you don't like the beach, if you don't like the mountains...". And at the end, when he declares, "I'm fed up and tired," in a kind of public confession that marks the final outcome, leading to his death.
Moreover, the film frequently employs narrative elements that make explicit references to the plot. Typically, these are titles appearing on cinema posters introduced in close-ups clearly alluding to the film's resolution. On another occasion, as Michel and Patricia enter the cinema with a close-up of them kissing, the dialogue from the projected film is heard, containing explicit references to one of the key themes: the impossibility of love.
To conclude, something that not many people know is that Raoul Coutard, the director of photography, recounted that Jean-Luc Godard expressed the decision to depart from conventional practices during filming, opting for the use of natural light. In the film selection process, Coutard mentioned Ilford HPS as his preferred choice. Upon consulting Ilford in England, they were informed that HPS film was not available for cinema, only for photography. The factory produced 17.5-meter film strips for photography, with different perforations than those of cinema cameras.
Faced with this limitation, Godard decided to splice multiple 17.5-meter strips to form film reels, using the Cameflex camera with perforations more similar to Leica. Despite professional skepticism, this choice was implemented. Additionally, to enhance results with HPS, experiments were conducted with the photo developer phenidone. In collaboration with chemist Dubois from GTC laboratories, they successfully doubled the emulsion sensitivity.
However, a challenge arose when attempting to develop the film in a phenidone bath, as GTC laboratories faced technical limitations. The laboratory machines were set to process 3000 meters of film per hour, all using the same bath according to Kodak standards. Although Godard requested special treatment for his 1000 meters in 24 hours, the laboratories initially refused due to incompatibility with their standard procedures.
Luck favored the production, as GTC laboratories had an unused machine, designated for tests, which allowed the development of the Ilford films in a bath designed by themselves, with the flexibility to manage time at their discretion. Coutard emphasized that the worldwide success of "À bout de souffle" is undoubtedly attributed to Godard's imagination, his decision-making at the right moment, and also to Godard's determination in splicing pieces of 17.5-meter Ilford film, miraculously securing the use of a machine at GTC laboratories.
The use of high-sensitivity film allows, consequently, shooting in natural indoor and outdoor settings with minimal additional lighting, resulting in a photograph with grain yet sharpness that resembles the tones of "american black" (noir films) often referred to. But it's not merely an "aesthetic touch"; it's about capturing these natural spaces as documentary images, as manifestations of life in its development (there are numerous outdoor shots where pedestrians look at the camera with curiousity), within an authentic, unaltered context that corresponds to recognizable places, identified by the viewer as part of their own life.
Despite the issues in the diegesis, both in terms of pacing and the immense number of characters, the film manages to keep the audience engaged thanks to its intriguing cinematography. This is mainly due to the well-executed choice of shots, color palette, and editing style. However, the abrupt transition to graphic violence creates a disconnection, turning what could have been an immersive experience into something more polarized and challenging to digest. To make matters worse, in the over two hours of runtime, Kakihara's presence, as a visually striking and complex figure, stands out as a missed opportunity to explore his narrative potential more deeply, relegating him to a secondary role. Similarly, the portrayal of Ichi, while impactful, doesn't seem to rise to the level of a solid protagonist either. As a result, both characters, despite their striking qualities, appear to get lost in a complex and overwhelming narrative web characterized by a multitude of events, timelines, and numerous secondary characters. Unfortunately, this contributes to the sense of lacking a clear protagonist.
Furthermore, while the gore is grotesque and unpleasant, it is at times implausible, unlike the CGI, which, with its obvious shortcomings, lacks any justification and fails to integrate seamlessly into the final result. Its deficiency not only diminishes the design work, but also undermines the overall believability of the film.
In the end, regrettably, it is a story easy to forget due to the narrative chaos. Therefore, in my opinion, it will be remembered solely for the rawness of the gore scenes.
As a follower of Robert Eggers' work, I had high expectations for his short film "The Tell-Tale Heart," based on the famous Edgar Allan Poe story. However, upon witnessing what unfolded on the screen, I found myself surprisingly perplexed, as instead of a faithful and terrifying adaptation of the master of horror, it appeared more like a parody in the style of Wes Anderson.
Anyone familiar with the original tale knows the significant emphasis placed on the old man's eye and the nights. Yet, in this interpretation, for some reason, the focus shifts to the elderly man's "physiological habits" rather than his eye. Furthermore, during the night of his death, the old man's eye fails to become a crucial element, contradicting the original story, in which the protagonist's paranoia stems from the belief that he is being watched.
What's even more bewildering is the absence of dialogue and detailed shots, resulting in a narrative that feels concise and lacking in nuances. In my opinion, this lack of visual and narrative exploration fails to distinctly align with either the style of German expressionism or modern filmmaking.
From its striking beginning to its conclusion, the movie transports us to an intriguing array of worlds, each more fascinating than the last. The first third is filled with commentary about the possibility of a mass bombing wiping London off the map, a disaster that is quickly foreseen. The central part is occupied by an elaborate evocation of the post-war countryside ravaged by plagues, while the final part shows the British venturing into space with all the proselytizing passion of Victorians sent to subjugate villains.
The images and scenarios depicted in the film bring to mind notable influences, such as Fritz Lang's Metropolis, which explored megalomaniacal ambition in urban architecture, or German Expressionism, which is evident in the masterful use of shadows, chiaroscuro, and composition to depict the horrors of war. Furthermore, the film is reminiscent of visual symphonies like Philips Industrial Symphony of '31,' which powerfully portrayed the manufacturing processes in mega-factories.
These cinematic influences skillfully intertwine within the movie's plot, enriching its visual narrative. However, the continuous soliloquies and exacerbating dialogues, along with various climaxes, contribute to an uneven pace that can be challenging to follow. The film navigates through a constantly fluctuating curve of attention, taking the plot through peaks of emotion, moments of deep reflection, and instances of intense action, as well as periods of calm. The result is that at times, the plot seems to meander, and the footage appears disjointed. At the same time, the philosophical weight behind the movie is immense. Every scene seems to question society, its progress and evolution, the purpose of science and knowledge, and even philosophy itself from a multitude of angles. While this rollercoaster of questions can be intriguing for some viewers, for others, the experience may feel negative due to its inconsistent pace and the lack of depth in each of the philosophical themes raised.
In conclusion, I want to highlight the scene in which the great Cabal, who bears a striking resemblance to the figure of Progress immortalized in one of the Nazi monuments designed by Albert Speer, delivers a grandiose technocratic canticle. This impressive sequence inevitably evokes Leni Riefenstahl, who, through works like Triumph of the Will, left an indelible mark on the visual representation of power and technology: 'Enough rest for the individual; too much and too soon, and we call it Death. But for Man, there is no rest and no end. He must go on, conquest after conquest. [...] And when he has conquered all the profanities of space and all the mysteries of time, he will still be beginning... The whole Universe... or Nothing. What shall it be?'
There have been some film critics who have expressed unfavorable opinions about Cerrar los ojos, the latest work by Víctor Erice. However, contrary to the views of these critics of the TikTok generation and immediate consumption, this film conceals a great masterpiece. While it is true that its extensive duration, nearly three hours long, can be challenging, at times one perceives, amidst the frequent use of fade-to-black transitions, a sense that fragments have been omitted, as if part of the footage is missing to complete the narrative. Nevertheless, the real challenge can be appreciated from the very beginning, from the shot of the statue depicting the dual nature of man, both young and mature, simultaneously. Here, the film delves deep into symbolism; in essence, it is not a work designed for immediate consumption.
The evolution of this film is tranquil and remains true to Erice's essence. However, in his many references to classic cinema, specifically European cinema, one can discern a naturalistic approach, perhaps as a homage, which was not as evident in his previous works. In Erice's work, color is subordinated to reality rather than being an exercise in artistic chrominance, while in Garay's work, the characteristic grain of celluloid and the vibrant aesthetics of Technicolor are apparent. Music, for Erice, assumes a purely diegetic role, complementing the film in the sung moments with its verses, except when we contemplate La mirada del adiós, the work of the character director, where non-diegetic music is chosen. On the other hand, while Garay, in what little we glimpse, connects shots through music and crossfades, Erice frequently opts for fade-to-black transitions. This distinction between the real and the fictional directors is an intelligent display of cinematic language and extradiegetic significance that enhances the value of the film.
Furthermore, it is intriguing to note that Cerrar los ojos does not deviate significantly from the narrative structure of El Sur (allow me to digress personally: I felt that the film was going to end without a conclusion, much like what happened in his previous work). The theme of time, which was already hinted at in earlier works such as El sol del membrillo, persists as a recurring thread in Erice's filmography. This persistence suggests an unceasing quest into the temporal and emotional depths, an exploration that is poetically and reflectively expressed in his latest cinematic creation. Additionally, the use of existing films as a narrative thread, as he did in El espíritu de la colmena with the film Frankenstein, reveals a recurrent inclination in his work towards intertextuality and the exploration of the deeper layers of cinematic art.
Nonetheless, returning to my critical perspective, and in disagreement with those critics who belittle this film, I pose a question: How would the films of Bresson and Dreyer appear if they were made today? The acting, the use of color and lighting, the types of shots, would not differ significantly from what Erice presents to us. This comparison with the masters arises from the phrase that accompanies the conclusion of the film: "Miracles in cinema ceased to exist when Dreyer died."
In conclusion, this film invites us to contemplate the evolution of cinematography in relation to its predecessors, the passage of time itself, humanistic happiness versus individualism, while simultaneously seeking the miracle of cinema within cinema, the yearning for a metamiracle of cinema!
I find it truly fascinating how the film's almost total absence of establishing shots does not prevent us from understanding the plot. Bresson, as did Carl Th. Dreyer and other filmmakers, has shown that narrative and direction can be just as effective, if not more so, than an abundance of situational shots. It is a shining example of how cinema can tell a story in a unique and memorable way.
It is also worth noting that Bresson believed in an austere, minimalist style of filmmaking, far from pompous sets, where traditional acting, with professional actors, often came across as artificial and affected. For him, the camera and its ability to capture reality were essential to telling a story. Or to put it another way, if the world is a shadow on the wall of the Platonic cave, the cinematograph allows us to go back to the reality of the Idea, because it captures that shadow; it does not imitate it.
I'll get to the point: Despite being a film with a serious and critical message about the remarkable neglect suffered by the elderly, I feel that the result is unfavorable. I will explain why:
The film is made up of juxtaposed events, in the form of sequences, in which an injustice is portrayed individually. However, despite this noble intention, the sequences often lack the cohesion necessary to effectively convey the intended message and emotion. One of the main problems lies in the excessive repetition of visual and narrative elements. This lack of variety in the presentation of injustices weakens the film's ability to hold the viewer's interest and undermines the power of the messages it is trying to communicate.
On the other hand, the eagerness for the metaphorical sometimes leads the film down confusing paths and detracts from the depth of the message. In other words, the sequences, in their attempt to be profound and symbolic, often become opaque and difficult to decipher. Rather than enriching the visual experience, these overly stilted metaphors can alienate the viewer, leaving them disoriented rather than immersed in the narrative. Although it is possible that the film wanted to convey its message through repetition and abstraction, the scenes border on the grotesque and implausible; these stylistic choices fail to achieve the desired impact. Instead of fostering understanding and empathy towards the injustices presented, they stand as obstacles that hinder the relationship between the audience and the story.
To conclude, it is worth noting that both the prologue and epilogue of the film present an interesting counterpoint compared to the intervening sequences. With their concise and serious approach, they manage to capture the viewer's attention effectively through the subtlety of the text. These parts seem to operate as anchors, providing a context that could have enriched the overall experience of the film: The prologue lays the groundwork for the injustices to be explored, preparing the audience for the subsequent sequences. For its part, the epilogue provides a satisfying closure to the various stories presented. Unfortunately, while these sections succeed in establishing a serious and committed tone, they also somewhat destabilize the final outcome of the film by clearly revealing part of the fictionalized section of the footage.
(As a final note, I will allow myself an aside, to point out that certain elements of the film will be cleverly recycled for future projects, such as the biker sequence, which again takes presence in 'Dawn of the Dead' (1978), among other elements.)
Curiously enough, there is an interview with Jean-Luc Godard in Cahiers in which he talks about cinema in relation to spectacle. In this interview, the filmmaker says that he would like to film people reading and, after a pause, he adds that even in a wall there is spectacle: "We look at a wall and end up seeing things."
Curious medium-length film. My respects.
It's such a tender and touching footage... I think it's something everyone should see.
It is one of the most significant science-fiction works of all time and the most important space opera in the world. This film marked a before and after in the culture and history of cinema, as it was an important link in the creation of geek communities (not in a bad way) and cinematic universes. This, although it may seem pejorative, was an important step in history, because, just as in past centuries people of different cultures and ages created social bonds based on a common religion, this film triggered something similar. Many young people of that time, and even today, have created friendships based on a common geek passion. Not only that. This movie went beyond the cinematic world to splash into other niche markets such as video games, board games, clothing with slogans, etc., even household appliances, something that was not so usual back then.
However, despite being a timeless work that endures with splendor even in our times, this film was shot in 1977, at a time when special effects were still handcrafted and "primitive", a time when many illusions were made with models and not with CGI. These special effects may perhaps seem simple and somewhat obsolete if judged with digital presentism, but they were quite an audiovisual feat. In other words, it could be said that it is the result of the purest heritage of movie magic, a long journey that begins in Europe with the first films (which were also science fiction) of the early twentieth century.
Unfortunately, despite the respect I have for George Lucas, I think he has made a terrible mistake by using CGI. In case anyone doesn't know what I'm talking about, nowadays it's quite difficult to see the original movie, as it was released in theaters. All the ingenuity behind it has been mutilated and overwritten by digital generation of images that, although a priori it may seem to improve, for me it contributes absolutely nothing. It is a shame that one of the most important films in history has ended up as a palimpsest.
Starting from this premise, it is worth noting that, although a priori it may seem that the film is based on Stanisław Lem's novel of the same name, the truth is that Tarkovsky simply uses it as a starting point for a philosophical meditation. The Russian filmmaker obviates any scientific inquiry and basis in order to invite the viewer to meditate on the human condition by taking advantage of the moral debate about the epistemological price of many scientific advances. The latter, for example, is reflected when we are repeatedly told that solaristics is a nostalgic science, a dead end, because scientific rationality fails to make its way in the face of new ontological frontiers.
Returning to the plot, at first, the primary idea that one concludes is that Kelvin, a dogmatic, skeptical and supposedly undaunted psychologist, will travel to the remote planet to impose order on the abandoned space station. However, despite showing a suspicious character and insisting on showing a rigid idiosyncrasy sparing in words, we soon see his human side, since, he is seduced by the recreation of his ex-wife, who died of poisoning a decade ago. It is at this point that a whole range of opinions opens up about what visitors are and how they should be treated. However, Tarkovsky plays his cards very well, balancing the plot like a tightrope walker between philosophy and metaphysics, and instead of positioning the plot towards one of the cosmonauts, he shows us how a communicative crisis is opening up between them, an open wound already well known since the beginnings of philosophy and that, even with technological advances, continues to cause many headaches for great thinkers.
The good thing about this film:
• The dialogues, that is to say, the script, has a very solid previous meditation that is perfectly seen in the film.
• The photography, even though it lacks great special effects, is very neat and conveys exactly what Tarkovsky wanted to say, nothing more, nothing less.
Downsides of this film:
• This is a rather long film, and while this in itself is not a negative point, this film requires two viewings.
• The lack of scientific data can cause a huge hole in the context if one has not read the book.
• The photography is quite confusing and the chromatic choice is very ambiguous. It's hard to determine what the director wanted to convey with the use of black and white, orange, etc., the first time around. I mean, it's a somewhat frequent resource in this film, however, from the time he uses it until it appears again, the plot has moved on quite a bit and it's hard to relate the events to determine the meaning of said color. Therefore, in my opinion, it requires a second viewing.
In short, Kubrick raised his head and set his perfectionist sights on the stars and the cosmos and conquered the universe with his magnanimous 2001: A Space Odyssey. However, Tarkovsky, plausibly and elegantly, managed to stop the Odyssey with this film, showing the hidden face of science. He takes advantage of the perspective that Kubrick's cold work does not contemplate, the human side, to ridicule also how insignificant we are within the infinite chaos we call universe.
Let's start with something that all or almost all of us will agree on. "1917" if it is not the best visual experience of 2019, it has been very close to it, because technically it offers a very detailed vision of how it must have been lived during the battle of Passchendaele, although, of course, it would have to be analyzed to what extent it is truthful.
However, there are certain aspects that do not convince me. For example, the lack of continuity in the story makes the sequences look like independent plots, isolated events (although they have a connection) that juxtaposed together make up the footage. On the other hand, the story lacks a climax, and for this very reason, there is no memorable scene that differentiates it from other war films (not to mention that this film is more of a road movie than a war film). The most striking, to say the least, is when William Schofield arrives at the trench of the 2nd Battalion of the Devonshire Regiment, due to the photographic similarity it has with Stanley Kubrick's "Paths of Glory".
It has left me with a bittersweet taste, since for every point in favor, I found one against.
Let's go in order. First of all, I must applaud the non-verbal communication of the actors. Thanks to them, to the liveliness of the dramatization, they have managed to squeeze out every last feeling hidden in the script.
On the other hand, the mise-en-scène is magnificent: the clothes, the hairstyles, the sets, the scenery. It looked like a living painting.
Now some negative aspects. First of all, the script is a bit bland. Some conversations were a bit stilted and many times Hans (Matthias Schoenaert) doesn't fit in the scene (in Spanish it is funnier because "he doesn't fit" is said "no pinta nada", which means literally "he doesn't paint anything"). However, as I said before, the actors rose to the occasion.
On the other hand, being a film about painters, it is ironic that the blur was abused. Not that I'm against telephoto lenses. In fact, in some aspects, the scenes were artistically enhanced by the use of this technique, as for example, when Einar (Eddie Redmayne) begins to explore his body or when, through a short shot, we are shown how he tries to conceal one of his internal struggles. Bravo! Now, as I said above, it is ironic that, being a film in which the characters are painters, this technique is abused. I say this because painters, like cameramen, have to cut in a rectangle that part of reality that deserves to be immortalized, however, watching the film, instead of feeling like when I saw "Barry Lyndon", I felt myopic, and I had my glasses on. As in the previous point, it has managed to counteract, but in this case with the magnificent mise-en-scène.
All in all, the balance, in my opinion, analyzing the pros and cons, is balanced. And this is a pity, since it was a subject that offered many possibilities, especially at that time.
I know that for many this work is just a pseudo remake of King Kong, and that, because of this, its flamboyant splendor withered prematurely when it was ignored. One only has to compare the cultural impact between the two: only a few nostalgic vestiges of this film remain in popular culture. Needless to say, many elements are similar and the script is not new in many aspects. However, I can affirm that it is one of the great works of stop-motion, where this technique is exploited, boasting the different possibilities offered by this method of effects.
To put it in context, this film starts from the already experienced Merian C. Cooper and Ernest B. Schoedsack, who had worked together on the aforementioned film King Kong, and a young Ray Harryhausen (who would end up being the universal reference of stop-motion) who would take the reins of the special effects, resulting in a unique footage, rich in thrilling and visually powerful effects and a much more professional elaboration than the magnum opus King Kong, where the gorilla had perspective failures and had limited his movements (something totally justifiable, as it was the first film to use these effects).
A lousy script with some supra-topic sentences that delve into absolute absurdity, a hard rock soundtrack that accompanies the ridiculous action scenes amplifying the absurdity of the story, bad acting at the same level of the total conglomerate, laughable gore scenes, etc. Basically there is no other way to sum up this movie.
However, while it may seem an attack on pure reason, for a B-movie these are the perfect elements. And they behave like Euler's identity: no one would ever think that such an insanely absurd mise-en-scene would have such a balance and harmony that seems mathematical.
The film is a masterpiece of audiovisual art, a delicious experiment where, through a perfect soundtrack and a game of sequences, the logos merges with the mythos. The staging is daring, unique, transgressive and above all magical. A play of light and shadow transports us to a fantasy theater that we will never see or shape. The only hint we are given of the setting is with the American-style opening of the curtain. The film plays with disorientation (as in a magic trick) from the first second, where the fourth wall is broken.
It is a unique work of its kind, combining reality with animation, theater with cinema, dance and classical music. It does not need a script adulterated with dialogues to flow, so it is not limited to an age or a time, which is why it has not aged almost, retaining its magic and charm. It is timeless and for all audiences. The only condition is to love art, because if you are one of those who watch movies to be entertained by their stories, without taking into account the mise-en-scène and everything that goes with it (lighting, set design, composition, camera positions...), you will not enjoy the film.
To begin with, the film shows us a dystopian Mars far from the paradise that technological progress has promised us (which is why it takes place exactly in the year 2084, a century after Orwell's famous dystopia). Martian society is so degenerate that the same viewer could confuse the red planet with a slum of a metropolis of the 70's if it were not for the futuristic setting and characterization. This is where Arnold Schwarzenegger's character comes into play. He will have the opportunity to change the society of retrograde despotism that has imprisoned the Martians, and thus free the planet from machismo and violence (something we would later see on the big screen with Sin City).
Regarding the structure of the film, it is a clear example of a monomyth: it goes through all the stages of development of the circle (this makes the film predictive in a way, but only in a few points, since the screenplay structure is well disguised with many mindfucks). However, you don't need to know this scheme to be able to predict this movie: this movie has a Chekhov's gun in the most James Bond style: a suitcase with different gadgets that the hero will sooner or later end up using.
The setting is magnificent and the use of CGI is minimal. This is something I really appreciate, as many movies end up collapsing like sand castles because of derisory and abusive computer-generated images, and even more so the movies of the last century, because such technology was still young (note the first Resident Evil movie or Mortal Kombat).
To conclude, it has very few touches of humor, so it is not a comedy, however, I laughed more with the few humorous parts of this movie than with many comedies.
Summarizing: It is a movie that I liked a lot, maybe because it is a young movie and I have seen it at a good age, maybe because it has a certain inclination towards science fiction.
The story is about a Wall Street guru who talks about his stock market predictions. So far so good, however, in my opinion, the climax of the movie comes too soon. We are put in tension very soon and it is impossible to keep us in that state throughout the film. Because of this, much of the film consists of a tedious back-and-forth between Lee Gates and Kyle Budwell. It was obvious that George Clooney's character was not going to die. On the other hand, without being a bomb expert myself, it seems to me that a frequency jammer could disable the bomb and end the film after ten minutes.
Oh, and apart from this, at the end, when they start interrogating Walty Camby, the IBIS director, you can see several continuity errors in Kyle's gun.
The film is fine. Moreover, I think that in order not to have the classic structure to tell a story (beginning, middle and end) it expresses its potential. But that's the problem. I don't know where they want to take me with the film. It's like there's no plot at all... You wait and wait for the climax, the high point of the story, and all you get is another "I didn't do it" from Ted. After all, that phrase is practically the entire script. You could say that The Simpsons predicted it: In one chapter Bart achieves ephemeral fame by saying "I didn't do it".
On the other hand, the film seems to want to cover the subgenre of judicial cinema, but without achieving it. It is a collection of true facts (more or less) linked by force without any connection between them. For example, when he asked to marry during the trial; even if it was real, he did not contribute anything in the middle of an undeveloped sequence. Moreover, it seems that the director is aware of this lack of connection between facts and that is why, at the end of the film, we are shown real recordings of Ted.
I know I'm repeating myself, but assuming that the story is not true in its entirety (it says so in the credits), a story could have been made that would have hooked us, since it seems more like a love story between a T-800 and a girl. The protagonist shows no emotion, he speaks without conviction. I don't mean that Zac is a bad actor, I don't know him well enough; what I mean is that being a real story that covers 15 years..., he has had to develop some feeling. He seemed more like the main character in Albert Camus' "The Foreigner".
For example, the film could have focused on the investigation and murders, instead of magically showing us the evidence during the trials. It could have explained what he did during his two escapes..., or done a more in-depth psychological analysis of Ted.
In short, wanting to go deeper into this film is like scuba diving in a puddle.
The film is entertaining, but in my opinion it could be improved. The special effects are spectacular and I don't criticize them, in fact, they fascinate me. But, unlike the novel, which had a more scientific point of view, the film has a strong emphasis on religion. Maybe in the 1950s it was normal (although, as I said before, the novel is not like that), but the ending is in a church and being a eucatastrophe..., it looks pretty bad. In other words, it is a double "Deus ex machina", in the structural sense of the story and in an almost literal sense, since the director urges to think that it was God. Finally, it is something unreal that the protagonist in the state in which it was, managed to attack the Martians and to remain with one of those electronic eyes without dying burned by the "ray of fire" (quoting the words of the novel)
To finish, I would like to comment that in Spain the posters used to promote the film were two illustrations of the musical album "Jeff Wayne's Musical Version of the War of the Worlds". I mention this because even though the ships look similar, the ones in the movie are not tripods!
The film is entertaining and at times it manages to make the viewer nervous. But Chekhov's weapons and some key elements are very obvious. The cell phone flash, the work of the protagonist's best friend, etc. I mean, when he discovers what happens with the flash, also when his best friend starts to investigate, when the protagonist is tied up and looks at the cotton of the chair..., I already knew how the story would end.
The film is entertaining, of course, but in my opinion, Nolan has lost his way. The story wants to go further than it can in itself.
First, the principle of operation of the Tesla coil is that it ionizes the air and allows wireless transmission of electricity. And yes, I criticize it because in the same movie they talk about selling a magic trick and at the same time they put this Deus ex machina with shoehorn: the machine's ability to magically clone (never better). At the end of the film you see that the machine has an emitter and a receiver. However, with cats and hats it is not like that, they just appear out of nowhere in the garden. It is annoying that the film justifies itself simply by saying "it is science". Jules Verne in almost all his works or Mary Shelley with Frankenstein tried to conceal science fiction, or at least make it credible, with words and not lightning and sounds. The main problem of this type of events is that, when the lack of internal coherence is perceived, it produces discomfort. On the one hand, it is an easy method to obtain the desired plot, but it has also made the whole thing not credible or even bordering on the absurd.
On the other hand, in my opinion, the dialogues are a bit lazy. It's impossible to believe that the characters in the story said all that nonsense with conviction. I refuse to believe it. Likewise, the existence of the twin brother is not credible, let alone that he cut off both fingers on purpose by magic. In other words, according to the film, the brothers have decided to live by swapping roles with fake glasses, a wig and a moustache and mute for the rest of their lives and sharing scars with each other. Ah! and the worst thing is that the death of one of them has not affected the other brother at all, instead he has gone to his former best friend to shoot him and tell him the story of his trick.
In short, entertaining to watch on TV on a boring day, but not to watch again.
Herzog's masterpiece. The truth is that the mise-en-scéne in the film is very powerful and has a choice of very daring shots that manages to disturb and even terrify the viewer. However, in my opinion, the soundtrack is not memorable and perhaps it detracts a little from the final result, but it is a personal opinion. On the other hand, this film is not entirely faithful to Bram Stoker's book and that can be seen it in some points of the story, where it is somewhat more abstract and personal. Another point I see where the story is weak is in supposed Chekhov's weapon, at the beginning of the film: When Jonathan arrives in Transylvania, at the inn he is given a Bible and a cross, however, Dracula manages to bite him even with the cross around his neck.
In short, I have enjoyed this film as much as the original 1922
Yes, it is a mystery movie. To get started, it is an entertaining movie although I was hoping for a kind of mindfuck that would make it more transcendental. The story is not very solid and there are certain gaps in the plot.
What the hell… This looks like a movie to a childish 10-year-old audience. There are incompatible ingredients like Hitchcockian cinema with fantasy… and this is an example.
What the hell…!! If this movie was made now, I would have called it "Grand Theft Auto: The Movie"
A very interesting movie. The characters are very cartoonish, I mean, they are bohemian in their own way. The plot is not completely unpredictable, and that's very good, as it allows the viewer to play detective. It is not a complex film but it is not obvious either.
The only thing that has aged a bit may be the end, but it still remains a magnum opus.
The story is interesting but the end result has not convinced me. In my opinion, the script does not reflect at all the anxiety that journalists experienced, staying many times in presumptuous and pedantic dialogues. On the other hand, the film lacks a notable soundtrack; It only has the typical orchestra that is in the background for typical pro-America soliloquy. A true topic. And finally, what could have been an interesting outcome, ends quickly, without explanation, with a scene jump. I mean, the monologues last longer than the ending itself.
The truth is that I will never understand this movie. There is no introduction, middle and end ...
