top of page

30 DAYS OF CINEMA!

Updated: Jan 19

I thoroughly enjoyed my 'Alphabet Cinema' game, in which we reviewed films using, well, the alphabet. So, we are back with another game: 30 Days of Cinema!


Each day requires a different topic, challenging me to not only review films but also focus my attention on their aspects, such as colours, dialogue, style, etc.


I'll be updating this post as I upload the reviews, they are short and sweet because Instagram has a word limit- however, I quite like this because it challenges me to be more concise- something I definitely needed to work on.


Index:


Day 14- Clue (1985).



ree

Meet the Robinsons (2009).

The last movie you watched.


You could rewatch Meet the Robinsons on repeat and never get tired of it! This movie shows the beauty and compassion for love and acceptance from our family- whether nuclear or chosen.


Not only is this film a visual and comedic playground, but it does a wonderful job of introducing complex conversations like adoption, and abandonment, which they handle with tenderness, which gives younger viewers an opportunity to put words to their feelings.


Meet the Robinsons questions the complications of growing up, how difficult it can be to provide the precise amount of care to the youth, and just how quickly the future can be altered.


Entertainment-wise, this movie is a whole lotta fun! Stacked with an array of whacky characters, all as unique and crazy as the last, this is an adventure you want to be part of!


If you’ve already seen it, let’s take a moment to appreciate Goob and his attempts at mind-controlling a frog and a T-rex. Truly the perfect villain, with just enough cooky and revenge-fueled ambition for my liking!


ree

Her (2013).

Last movie you watched in the cinema.


I was very late to the Her party, but eventually saw a rescreening at a small cinema with my best depressed Judy’s.

Joaquin Phoenix is always a pleasure to watch- part of the reason I put off watching Her was because I had a feeling it would be one of those films that just overwhelms you with otherworldly joy.


Her is definitely that movie for a lot of people, and I completely understand, Jonze builds the atmosphere with eerie sorrow, stark red and blue, luring into this little world of loneliness and hope.


Human connection is what makes Her such an engaging, using a futuristic element like technological communication that expands many citizens' lack of companionship- something that society is lacking in a world that has almost entirely transitioned to electronic communication.


This environment opens a giant door for the complications that arise from such a tech-pro world, how desperately we cling to human connection, even willing to seek it out through means of motherboards.

It is a great feat for cinema, with a wonderful cast- nothing worth nitpicking- but strangely, it didn't stick with me.


Jonez also seemed to work as hard on creating Her as he did taking visual and storytelling jabs at his ex-wife, Coppola (one could look into comparisons between Her and Coppola’s, Lost In Translation), he was successful as these moments worked in favourite of the movie, but it kinda irks me.


ree

Asteroid City (2023).

Movie you want to watch but haven't.


Storytime: I have an issue with watching all of a director's or actor's filmography because that means I have to wait for their next film to come out, and when will that even be? So, after I ran out of Tom Hardy movies and learned my lesson, I always keep a film or so on hold until future projects are underway. It's sick, I know. 


That’s why I haven't seen Asteroid City.

Wes Anderson demands full attention; just one blink too long, and you might miss a brilliant tableau, a physical joke, or even a character's facial expression. All would be criminal to both the art and my pleasure for its content.


ree

Bones and All (2022).

A movie that disappointed you.


I have spent the past hour crying over a medical drama I will not name (It’s Greys… It’s a Lexi-Mark thing), and if I don’t switch off now, I might drain my tear ducts for good. What’s a good way to counter this?

Getting a little riled up, of course. And what better to stir my frustration than a film I had high hopes for? 


Clearly, I’m already on the outs for failing to connect to the content, so I’m here to explain myself (I can’t stand not being liked, okay), because nothing stresses me more than a film that had all the makings for success, but lacked something… 


First, and most importantly, Luca Guadagnino is a fabulous director. He has a beautiful eye for creating a visual playground, inviting us into the story, and encouraging our familiarity with the backdrop. I’m curious to see his upcoming take on Easton Ellis’ literary masterpiece, American Psycho (story for another day).


What bothered me about this film was the flimsy, superficial relationships, without convincing material to certify their importance.

It’s vital to the core of this story that we believe in this romance without a shadow of a doubt. 


From peer reviews, the romance was successful in creating a connection that has validity- a clear reason for the characters to fall in love- but why did I feel that their love was at best, surface level? 


I think this might be because of the lack of personal motivation for the MCs- you cannot carry an entire story on the bonding of cannibalism and a search for identity

(When did cannibalism become a cinematic motif for identity exploration?)-

actors, Russell and Chalamet approached it with restraint and a two-dimensional understanding of the desire to be understood, I think they dragged this film on into an endless plea for some semblance of gore… one should never wish for this- but films like Raw (2016) prove it possible to balance body horror and complex emotions. 


Honestly, this movie was mid. I don’t particularly care if you disagree, let's just be friends.


ree

Anatomy of a Fall (2023).

A film you like because of its story.


I love this movie for everything- EVERYTHING- but what would a masterpiece be without a good story?


In a time where stories are disregarded for entertainment, and every other movie is a remake or biopic, Anatomy of a Fall is a forceful reminder that good cinema does exist… perhaps one should just look past Western cinema.

And if you’re interested in absurd, and morally-grey stories, French cinema is the place to go!


Anatomy of a Fall is sharp, thoughtful, cold, and tense- creating complete confusion and ambiguity from the very first scene.

A tale of unreliable narrators, coaxing us into believing their perspectives, only for a new question to unravel everything we’ve been told.


The best ways this is depicted is through creating an MC that is a blind witness at the scene of the crime, but unable to see what occurred- creating a visual language barrier, and then reinforcing said barrier by setting the story in France, and having the MC speak German and basic English. Languages constantly switch and entangle into a semantic struggle.


It’s a dialectical treat! Seamlessly executing large chunks of dialogue in a manner that never let our focus waver, each word is vital to our understanding, and we cling to monologues, choruses, etc, as if visual validation was actually never needed.

I gotta say, if all murder trials were like this in France, I got into the wrong career.


Madness! Everyone interjecting, new information both relevant and not, total dirty law, it’s a mess, and it’s a brilliant take on the dangers of perception.


Director, Triet knows that the conclusion isn't nearly as important as the content, she builds a story on the snowy surface of a greater story- one seems significantly worse, but the high stakes of the courtroom are what makes Anatomy of a Fall a top contender for my favourite film.


ree

Steve Martin & Martin Short.

Favourite acting duo.


My childhood was wrapped in a soft, humorous security blanket of Steve Martin and Martin Short.

And by some blessing, they remain and constantly reaffirm their cosy embrace. First, it was the Prince of Egypt- still one of the most powerful animations, I loved this duo before I even knew it.


And then, a game-changer, one of my most rewatched… Father of the Bride (Part 2 above all). Father of the Bride is still my go-to movie when the world feels so large, and I am so small.


Steve Martin is fondly branded as my ‘TV dad’, he plays these roles like second nature and often reminds me of the energetic and goofy father I was born to.


I was too young to know my age but old enough to understand that movies like Father of the Bride, and Cheaper by the Dozen would hold a chunk of my heart for good.


I don’t think there’s a Steve Martin film I have yet to love (Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, It’s Complicated, and The Pink Panther- I refuse to humour any negative comments about Martin’s remakes. He is my Clouseau!).


When we think about SNL in its prime, Steve Martin is quick to mention- his style of physical comedy is rare and perfected, and he knows how to handle an audience. Imagine the formidable force that is Steve Martin and Martin Short sharing the stage.


Martin Short is no stranger to the art of classic sketch comedy, an alum of SNL, and sure to show up in your favourite TV shows as an unforgettable side character (special mentions go to Arrested Development and Modern Family).


Short is also by far the best character in Father of the Bride, Franck, a zealous wedding and baby shower planner.

Martin and Short (not confusing at all) have choreographed the perfect comedic style, always a new dance, and always reminiscent of their original sequence.


I don’t consider myself a very lucky person- quite the opposite- but imagine my excitement- then triple it- when it was announced that they would be pairing up for the ridiculously funny, and clever TV series, Only Murders in the Building.

There was zero doubt that under the creative minds of Steve Martin and John Hoffman, OMITB wouldn’t be chocked full of fun and familiar faces (Nathan Lane, Meryl Streep, Sting, to name a few).


Idolising anybody is a dangerous route, but I owe a lot of my passion and love for the world of cinema to these two gentlemen, that much is clear.


ree

Trainspotting (1996).

Favourite opening scene.


For a movie with speedy, energetic, drugged-out mania, Trainspotting opens with a clear vision of what this story offers.


Trainspotting keeps things natural, hoping the audience forgets the cinematic aspects of this film in favour of investing in the character's developments and stories, starting with a hand-held camera.

The fluidity of this choice introduces how chaotic, and personal this story is.


This gives Trainspotting a memorable realistic approach, grounding the story in reality-driven circumstances and simultaneously allowing viewers to find relatability in the characters and their actions.


Let’s examine the use of symbols and visuals paired with the narrator's monologue and how they instantly establish the group's past and present lifestyles;


Choose life. Choose a job.” Told to us while our MCs are being chased through town, cigarettes and other presumably stolen items falling at their feet. We see the criminal route taken in favour of working, soon to be a recurring issue.


Choose good health.” Renton barely dodges the feds and an oncoming vehicle before breaking out into an adrenaline-fueled laugh- always escaping by the skin of his teeth. Additionally, it cuts to him smoking, before the camera pans out to show him standing in an unkempt, practically falling apart house, all as the narrator says, “Choose fixed-interest mortgage rates. Choose a starter home.”


Choose your friends,” We meet the rest of the gang playing football, starting with a low-angle shot of Sick Boy mid-yell, defining his knack for leadership and dictatorship.

Begbie is next, sliding onto the screen by tripping up a footie player, a true big-headed jerkoff. Spud, defending the goalpost, pantsless, doing a shit job at stopping the ball, but a cheerful participant- a faithful partner-in-crime.


And then there’s Tommy, shoved in a corner, swarmed by players- perhaps a physical representation of what he experiences being sober, and as his friends further descend into addiction, Tommy emotionally recreates the opening vignette.

With such clear introductions, Trainspotting sets the tone and provides context with great success.


ree

The Iron Claw (2023).

Favourite Biopic.


The Iron Claw is the total opposite of the stories I usually watch, and in honesty, during my Oscar ‘24 run, this was another film I had paid minimal attention to, right until the moment I pressed play. 


Alright, in fairness, I was aware of the magnificent 80s bowl cut that Zac Efron would be sporting. I think I went in believing this film would be good, but nothing special. 

Man, when I’m wrong, I’m so fucking wrong.


The Iron Claw is like nothing I’ve ever seen from a biopic before- a story so crazy and tragic that it couldn't possibly be true… the craziest part is not only that the events occurred, but the true story is somehow even sadder. 


The Iron Claw tells us the story of famous wrestling brothers, the Von Erichs, followed through the life of Efron’s character, Kevin as he journeys down the path of success and struggle alongside his brothers, Kerry, David, and Mike. 


At its core, The Iron Claw really isn't about wrestling, it tackles the dangers and often dark consequences of generational trauma, the pressures of parenting, and the beauty of comradery and closeness between brothers. 


The Von Erich brother's lives have been riddled with tragedy before some were even born, they refer to this as the ‘Von Erich curse’ and through the unravelling story, we see that these traumas are not a result of bad luck but rather the way the family perpetuates their eventual downfalls. 


The Iron Claw is sorrowful, one can see the desperation for love and success, and how impossible it is to correct these so strongly engrained mindsets, we feel as hopeless as the Von Erichs as each tragedy unfolds. 


The two strongest aspects of this movie are the choices to highlight the brother's relationships with one another but especially with their father. 

There is so much love and passion at the core of the Iron Claw, something that remains until the credits roll, successfully highlighting just how solid and important hopefulness remains. 


I also considered picking this for my ‘favourite ending’, which I mention to emphasise other reasons this film rocks. 


Lastly, I need to praise Efron for his acting, as his character carries much of this film and he held it down!

His interactions with his brothers and father are organic and layered. 

Jeremy Allen White also totally understood the assignment, his and Efron’s complicated relationship is a great moment for cinema! 


ree

American Beauty (1999).

Favourite movie as a teen.


How could I not talk about the movie that started it all? Well, contributed to my adamance that the world of cinema is exactly where I need to be.

With time, American Beauty sort of fell into a large pile of great movies that are somehow overshadowed by new favourites and stories.


But, when I think about this movie, everything comes rushing back, promptly cocooned in the silky embrace of Mendes’ poetic, satirically dark, and dream-like artwork.


A prominent theme of 90s cinema explored consumerism and its societal impact- similar films include Fight Club and American Psycho- a conversation that has a revived increase in the current capitalistic world (Parasite and Sorry to Bother You are recently successful commentaries).


American Beauty uses Lester, a privileged middle-aged father going through an identity crisis, as well as Jane, his angsty teen daughter as contrasting responses to the idyllic perceptions society had of wealth and beauty equating to personal satisfaction.


Every character is riddled with apathy and cynicism, wallowing in frustrated desperation to change- to be someone they would be happy to greet in the mirror each morning.


Combining black comedy, and psychological distress with tranquil, dreamy cinematography, blending soft, warm grading and hues with disturbing, unsettling dialogue creates a heavy sense of unease, almost taunting the audience with the promise of doom.


It’s beautiful, and somehow peaceful, simple yet riddled with dissatisfaction and festered dread. Composer Thomas Newman creates a gorgeous, delicate score that mocks sunny optimism, overlaying lightheartedness atop dark, philosophical dialogue.


American Beauty still stands as an important transition into the new century of cinema, and will always be close to my heart… and surname.


ree

Anyone But You (2023).

Guilty pleasure film.


For starters, I have zero shame for enjoying anything, no matter the quality or context. Entertainment and enjoyment are what counts, and though I might judge or be judged for my choices- if it brings you joy, it’s not something to feel guilty over.


That being said, I am a rom-com fanatic—there aren't many I haven't indulged in, and I’m quick to press play on anything new.


I do have standards, though.

The formula for a good romcom is simple, yet vital. It must involve realistic stakes, chemistry, conflict, humour, and character development.

Oddly, many films fail in more areas than one, but when done correctly, a rom-com can leave you feeling lighter.


I favour stories surrounding enemies-to-lovers, this dynamic needs to be well balanced- their ‘hatred’ needs to be both validated and of a futile matter, something that can be realistically resolved.


Some of my favourites from this genre are, You’ve Got Mail and Law of Attraction. Ultimately, Much Ado About Nothing tops them all. It’s like Shakespeare dipped his quill into my brain, pulled out my inky dream scenario, transferred it to paper, and fated it to Kenneth Branagh’s palms, paving the way for my favourite 21st-century romcom, Anyone but You.


Modernised, and starring my favourite rom-com king, Glen Powell, Anyone but You is playful and endearing, perfect for a lighthearted viewing; it boasts a sunny backdrop, deception, silly miscommunications, and just the right amount of Natasha Bedingfield. Psa: don’t watch this on a date, he is likely to fall asleep, and or mock you… fuck ‘em.


ree

Punch-Drunk Love (2002).

Film that makes you want to fall in love.


At the mere mention of Punch-Drunk Love, I am transported. The romantic interlude to Jon Brion’s version of ‘He Needs Me’ begins to hum within my bones, and tickles my limbs with such vehemence that my feet want nothing more than to waltz across the kitchen tiles.


An unconventional romance blooming like a fantasy, almost intangible but rooted in realism, Punch-Drunk is a story about finding the strength to keep going, the will to embrace love, and the will to start anew.


Subverting the traditional genre expectations, Punch-Drunk creates a complex, tender portrayal of romance, highlighting the importance of genuine human connection, vulnerability, and self-discovery when developing genuine, sustainable relationships.


Using vibrant colours, and a dream-like score, visual storytelling and pacing aid in developing the thoughtful exploration of true love, conveying the inner thoughts and emotional state of Barry, our non-traditional MC.


Barry is seeped in loneliness and emotional pain, socially awkward, and romantically vulnerable—relatable to the viewer. He works to overcome these barriers with the reassurance of his love interest, Lena, emphasising the beauty of imperfect and complex relationships.


Adam Sandler is brilliant! He embeds Barry with covert and overt reactions to his encounters.

We can see past his words and actions, able to identify his inner self, his anxiety and his struggle with social cues. Sandler understands Barry- humanising him- navigating levels and pacing with ease, tenderly guiding this character-driven drama with emotional intimacy, allowing Barry’s struggles with mental health and intimacy to create genuine, emotional connections.


Punch-Drunk is fantastical, director, PTA has a deep understanding of the nuance of the human condition and the desire for judgement-free bonds.

At their core, his films all have this in common, a tale of the vitality of connection, this is why they pay him the big bucks!


ree

Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping (2018).

A movie that reminds you of someone.


I’m a Style Boy… for life!!


To be a StyleBoy, you have to meet specific requirements- you need to be named Emma, Sarah, or Sofia.


Popstar reminds me of my sisters, our childhood and all of the adventures we embarked on. With a knack for the dramatics and the construction of elaborate theatre renditions of classics like The Lion King, and Snow White; forcing our parents into seats for minimum 2hrs, we are the definition of Greek. Sophocles would be proud.


This movie is for anyone looking for a laugh. It follows the luxurious lifestyle of Conner4Real as he transitions from a boyband member into a solo career, dealing with the flop of his new album and his ever-increasing loneliness.


From the brilliant mind of Andy Samberg, Popstar is a mockumentary about the ridiculousness of mainstream media and its influence on the music industry.


Samberg uses Conner’s music to mock popular songs that pander to audiences and lack any real lyricism- e.g.

Mona Lisa, you’re an overrated piece of shit”,

I’m not gay but if I was, I would want equal rights”,

"She wanted to fuck me harder than the US government fucked Bin Laden", but the songs are still really catchy and enjoyable!

A ridiculous homage to modern pop music.


He touches on the misuse of music, tactics taken by labels to integrate sales and musicians (Conner’s songs play when you open a fridge, like U2 torturing our iPhones), looking at fleeting fame, unwarranted criticism, stolen credit, and false promises.


Literally, everyone is in this film- from Mariah to Seal to Ringo Starr- acting as interviewees, all validating The StyleBoyz’s contribution to the music industry.


Samberg proves his understanding of pop culture behind the scenes, blending his branded humour with a passion for music, Popstar is a great fucking time!


ree

The Substance (2024).

Film with a great colour scheme.


A modern-day Kubrick (perhaps a little too referential for my taste), The Substance easily solidifies itself as a staple in the modern and future psychological/ body-horror thriller genre.


With plenty of gore, satire, stark visuals and a vibrant colour scheme, Substance is a disturbingly entertaining descent into the violent clutches of fame. 


Moore and Qualley balance their ‘oneness’ with strong similarities, but personalise their characters with great contradiction. Their real-life interactions feel developed and real, the perfect tool to create and erase physical distance. 


Liz Sparkle dresses in primary colours, and structured silhouettes, greatly contrasting the bright white set design. 


When switching personas, Sue quickly drops Liz’s primary colours for secondary, using purples, pinks, and oranges as a youthful mutation of Liz’s style. 

Sue’s fashion emulates her upbeat, youthful energy.

Her high ponytails, short skirts, and crop tops are smothered in glitter, while Liz clings to her colour ‘security’ as she slips further into madness—seen through her classic yellow coat and red lipstick. 


Each colour in The Substance stands as a warning, from the vile greenness of the medical substance to the explosions of cherry red, replicating makeup (lips, eyeshadows, colour correctors) and beauty products (red LEDs, orangey spray tan), posing these ‘enhancers’ as sinister. 


This is further solidified when these colours turn from positive to sickly—an oozing purple abscess, yellow nails, and brown fluids deeply influence the story’s descent into destruction, guiding our understanding. With these colour choices, the perspective of fame and beauty morphs, transitioning into an uncomfortable and disturbing experience for the viewer.  


Colour is vital in telling The Substance. It emphasises and reinforces the plot and, in turn, the viewer's experience.

For me, this is the film's strongest element. 


ree

Clue (1985).

Film you never get tired of.


During my review for Knives Out, I touched on Clue as an example of a successful whodunit. I promised to write a separate review.


So here we are, ready to rave about Clue. This film never disappoints, even after many rewatches, you are guaranteed to spot something new.


And with so many elements of mystery, clues, and dialogue, it’s impossible to obtain all the information- something that benefits Clue, as the viewer remains enticed, eager to revisit and experience the playful mystery unfold- most reminiscent of the board game is the movie’s decision to create three optional endings; each contains the same events, clues, and murders, but morph the culprit's motives- this ensures nothing confuses the viewer.

But one must always remember; Communism is just a red herring!


Clue is silly, irreverent, quick-witted, and unapologetically warps the rules of murder mysteries.


Tim Curry is the derisive, dramatic Butler, guiding us through the story. He perfectly encapsulates an elusive, curious man, shifting between being suspicious and acting suspicious.


He is responsible for the ridiculously energetic climax as he reveals the killer/s, leading the group on a speedy chase, running through the mansion, and recapping where the murders occurred and where the suspects were.


This is such a fun way of reminding the viewer of what we know so far, without the feeling of redundancy, we might even pick up elements earlier missed or overlooked.

Despite a quiet box office reception, Clue has gone on to be a cult classic- the perfect comfort film and a joy for those who enjoy Cluedo, which unsurprisingly is my favourite board game.


ree

Jawbreaker (1999).

Favourite fashion film.


Ooh, mama! This review will introduce my half-edited review of Jawbreaker and the film's excellent use of colours and fashion!


My review aims to break down these fashion choices and their importance in defining characters and the story's overall development.


Jawbreaker can be categorised as a black comedy, 90s teen crime drama, revolving around the aftermath of a violent murder of the classic popular girl, Liz.

Those who remain in the clique embark on a chaotic journey covering up and questioning one another's actions.


For the short time we see her, Liz is dressed as the girl next door—all pearls, baby pink, and Dior silhouetted outfits.

This gives her an angelic, almost holy appearance, telling the audience that Liz is seen as the perfect girl.


Post-murder, the new head mean girl, Courtney’s clothing is accessorised and eventually completely draped in purples. Purple represents the idea of royalty- something Courtney wishes to enforce on her peers.


Most importantly, Fern, a once nerdy outcast and now an overnight star, begins her story with long brown hair, shadowing her facial features, long skirts and knitted sweaters- her soft voice mimicking that of her personality.

She desires to fit in, something that Liz had previously shown Fern was possible.


With the help of the girls, Fern changes her name to 'Vylette', ditches her wardrobe, cuts and dyes her hair bleach blonde, and favours tight-fitted, vibrant pink outfits.

Following her appearance shifts, so does her popularity and in turn, her personality.

As Vylette’s head grows larger, her fashion becomes more experimental and extroverted, and soon all remnants of Fern are buried.


Jawbreaker is a staple 90s cult classic! It challenges others of its genre by creating fair consequences, challenging dynamics, and space for reformation.

Girls are allowed to be just… bitches, men remain rightfully in the background, and stereotypical high school is exaggerated with stylish flare.


ree

There Will Be Blood (2007).

Favourite film ending.


How could we possibly decide on one? Impossible! 

So, I picked a scene that often plays in my mind. 


There Will Be Blood. Boasting one of the greatest monologues in film, it’s no surprise that the final confrontation between Daniel Day-Lewis’ character Daniel, and Paul Dano’s, Eli, is so rich and memorable. 


The major themes of There Will Be Blood are that of religion and the rise of capitalism. Daniel Plainview represents the evolution of industrialism, whilst Eli Sunday stands as the fading importance of Christianity. 


Daniel and Eli’s relationship has always been one of exchange- for ‘personal gain’, though, Daniel is honest about his intentions, Eli executes his wants through the guise of religion.


In the final scene, their partnership is broken down into reality. Daniel is the future, and Eli is a relic of the past, clinging onto a belief that has weakened over time, his entirety has become irrelevant to society. 


Daniel coaxes Eli into admitting his doubts through the promise of consumerism, Eli is so lost as he exclaims,

“...I AM A FALSE PROFIT. GOD IS A SUPERSTITION!” 


“... I drink your water, Eli. I drink it up. Everyday. I drink the blood of lamb.”

Daniel references Ezekiel, further proving his understanding of ‘God’ while explaining that he has already taken what Eli had to offer.


In a desperate bid to convince Daniel of aid, Eli fully succumbs to his loss of faith, ruefully confessing,

“... I've let the devil grab hold of me in ways that I never imagined! … I'm so full of sin.


Instead of expected sympathy, Daniel agrees with Eli, unveiling that it was Eli’s twin, Paul who was ‘chosen’, that Paul was smart, Eli is and was always nothing but a stepping stone in Daniels's journey to success,

You’re not the chosen brother, Eli … you’re a fraud.”


Eli is beyond defeated and desperate for Daniels's assistance,

My faith has been lost and I need a new way.”,

he now realises that his beliefs revolve around Daniel Plainview, as if Daniel were a religious icon. 


And Daniel does feel himself to be a sort of God, aware that the power he has cultivated is more tangible than any Icon.

He has created stability in the physical realm, turning oil into the start of a financial revolution.

He has helped alter the course of industrialisation.


When he exclaims,

I am the third revelation! I am who the lord has chosen.”,

Daniel is referencing what Eli had previously proclaimed himself to be.

And in the presence of a very dishevelled Eli, Daniel knows that Eli agrees.

Daniel now ‘speaks for God.’


All of this confirms that perhaps God and capitalism are a transactional exchange, and because Daniel takes action in reality, religion will always have less influence than money.


ree

12 Angry Men (1957).

Favourite book to screen adaption.


I got the play from Sof for my birthday- those know how much I delight in collecting plays and screenplays.

There’s nothing like exploring the raw material behind incredible visual productions and performances! 


I hadn't seen the film and didn't even know it was originally written material (even after being constantly reminded that the best cinematic stories are those of literary origins). And it's likely I still wouldn't have seen it today. Do not shame me.


The original teleplay, written by Reginald Rose personally remains better than the film adaptation, and with the film being just short of a masterpiece, that says something. (My main critique is the film turning Juror 8 into a woke dude, elevating his position to one of righteousness in favour of his novel version which remains impartial but challenges the other Jurors' perspectives. Unnecessary but apt for the times.)


Never did I think I could enjoy watching a group of white men arguing around a table for 1hr30. This is the exception!


Most effective is the seamlessly paced, sharp, and informative dialogue. Written for performance's sake, the story unfolds without needing to alter anything for cinema. 


The most important execution then revolves around the actor's timing and varying tones, they take sole responsibility for creating conviction- as this play is set during the 50s, many of these characters have strong prejudice (racist fucks!!) and an ache to disagree with the most irrelevant details. 


It’s not easy to cast 12 compatible actors, especially when the script requires such individual perspectives, yet the film handles this easily. 


Cinematography is therefore as important, as camera angles and shots are needed to emphasise the quickness and importance of dialogue. 


Some of this is best shown through the application of long shots when they assimilate either unity or distance, mimicking the level of discourse. 


I'm gonna be ending this review abruptly because I’ll be reviewing this from a literature standpoint soon soon), and there's too much to discuss in 300 words!


ree

Blade Runner (1982).

Favourite monologue from a film.


How do we decide who gets to be a person? Why do we convince ourselves that one is more deserving than another? 


In Blade Runner, Deckard lives under the assumption that the lives of ‘Replicators’ are not that of humans, and therefore lack value to both humanity and society. It is not until he falls in love with Rachel, a replicant, that he starts questioning his existence. This starts a spiral of what it truly means to be alive- does having a human form equate to a proper existence?

If not, why have humans banished replicants to a life of poverty and slavery? 


When Deckard finally confronts the advanced fugitive replicant, Roy Batty, Deckard witnesses Roy’s desperate attempts to prolong his existence, and the guttural sorrow and grief Roy feels for his deceased lover and friends. 


Roy’s will to live is contradictory to the universal description of what a replicant is. He has suffered so much in such a short span, yet his hopefulness for change and survival is exactly that of the human experience.

What is the difference between Roy’s existence and the average human? 


“I've seen things you people wouldn't believe—attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. 

I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate..."


In actuality, Roy has lived and experienced more than most humans in just 4 years. Born an outcast, his exposure to the darkness of humanity has greatly impacted his sense of self, yet he has no control over changing his circumstances. 


"All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. Time to die.” 


Roy knows his existence will soon be forgotten, and sparing Deckard’s life is the only way to keep the legacy of Roy alive. He is finally able to make his own decision about the meaning of existence.


ree

Return of the King (2003).

A film you wish you had seen in the cinema.


Oh my God, can you imagine?  


I was 6 years old when Return of the King made its cinematic debut. Going on to win Best Film (and another TEN awards) at the 2004 Oscars, it's no surprise this film has ended up on replay more than I can fathom.


If this trilogy is magnetic on the TV screen, I can only imagine the cinema experience. (Those who did see it in the theatre, tell me more, please!)


Suppose I should spend the rest of this review gushing over my first love, Lord of the Rings- and then Legolas was an obvious second. (Why is Orlando Bloom always at the root of my queer awakening?) 


It was only a couple of years after the sequel ended when dad was doing dad things and recommended  LOTR. I’m pretty certain I watched these on VHS, I distinctly recall the tedious effort to rewind and rewatch Helms Deep. 


If I could go back, it would be to experience these films for the first time. 


At its simplest, LOTR is about brothership and camaraderie.

Tolkein values community, and the importance of working together for the greater good.

After Frodo and Sam fuck off and Boromir takes like, a THIRD arrow, our Fellowship are forced to place trust in one another’s journeys- confidently completing their tasks with faith that the other members are doing the same.


What a beautiful statement on the collaboration of our society. We must look past our roadblocks because each challenge will be important in successfully changing the world. 


LOTR is also massively credited for my passion for the cinematic process, there are hours upon hours of BTS footage, as it was documented throughout the linear-filmed trilogy. The passion and efforts of the film crew are so inspirational I swoon at the thought! 


P.S. Some people refuse to watch the extended cuts, I’d like to know why they hate fun.


ree

Lisa Frankenstein (2024).

A film you misjudged.


When I’m wrong… sometimes I admit it.


I was hesitant about Lisa Frankenstein even after the film began, but a wave of reassurance crashed over me and promised a hilarious, gory, teen coming-of-age story that, unlike many other recent releases, is as original as it is ridiculously good!


Kathryn Newton repeatedly wins me over with her natural gift for characterisation- committing to the bit so effortlessly that her character, Lisa is rich with lore and dimension.

She’s so over the top- exactly what drives this film home! 


I did a rewatch of the Suite Life of Zack and Cody last year, it’s amazing how impeccable Cole and Dylan’s sense of comedic timing and tone is so impressive for such a young age. The series stands the test of time, as their understanding of comedy evolves. 


All this to say, Cole Sprouse was great! His character certainly sets the bar for how to successfully impress the girl he likes.

And who knew it was as simple as chopping off another man's genitals and presenting it as a gift? I knew. I knew


The costume design is edgy, vibrant, and reminiscent of gothic punk and preppy pop elements that seamlessly highlight the themes and intentions of the fashion trends relevant to both Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein and the evolution of retro subcultures of the late 80s. 


This movie will transport you back to the rockin’, neon eighties (even if you were born after the decade)! 


Lisa Frankenstein doesn't take itself seriously, it embraces and pokes fun at classic tropes and styles of our favourite 80s films, paying homage to the indescribable lifestyle of the decade- from colours to props, and set pieces, the world of Lisa Frankenstein and co. is simply camp at its finest!


ree

Big Fish (2003).

A film that had you in tears.


I was visiting the Letterboxd reddit community when someone boldly asked for film suggestions that will have you bawling.

Many suggested Big Fish, which felt odd to me because I was unaware that this story even existed. (God, lately I feel like this game is just me admitting how much I disrespect cinema.)


But after reading a short synopsis of the plot and the promise of Ewan Mcgregor, I hastily streamed Tim Burton’s true masterpiece.

What a film, what an emotionally wholesome experience!

You know a film is excellent when you spend the final fifteen minutes soaking your cheeks with hot tears. 


An adventure that spans half a century, journeying through the life and growth of Edward Bloom. Edward lives a thousand lives and they all shape the man he is today.


When Edward relays these experiences to his loved ones, it is evident how these stories have inspired, frightened, and challenged Edward ultimately blending and moulding him into a living, breathing fairytale.


However, his fantastical life can often feel shallow and dismissive, especially in the eyes of his son, Will Bloom. 

Edward’s stories are larger than life and sometimes hard to believe, so when Will tries to get simple answers from Edward, there is always a marvellous tale- it is no wonder Will feels disconnected as he frustratedly attempts to know the ‘real’ Edward. 


Big Fish is so, so beautiful as it paints a colourful and exciting perspective of life’s normality, looking back at the little moments that leave us changed, and how the simplest of stories can be the most important. 


In a world that can feel so unglamorous, Edward chooses to see his existence with a tinge of mysticism and adventure- it is not an easy task, and the resistance of his peers is a constant challenge, but he never dulls his imagination- he never loses the magic. 


Does knowing someone mean learning about their reality, or could it possibly mean understanding their view of said reality?

Big Fish will ask you to consider this while coaxing you into a sob-fest.


ree

Emma Seligman.

Favourite female director.


Part 1- Who is Emma?


This was an easy pick, because, one, I love Emma Seligman, and two, female directors being overlooked is an understatement and often goes under the radar.


We must work harder than ever to push female-driven creators and stories to the foreground. 


Hollywood Reporter regularly invites a collective of creatives to sit around a roundtable where they discuss their upcoming projects, reflecting on storytelling, films that inspired them etc.

There is only one genre of roundtable I won't watch, and that is a table full of actors. 


Unlike the viewer, H.Reporter doesn’t see how egotistical, and socially detached some of these performers are, so, these sessions always result in accidental insults and prove their societal ignorance of lack of reliability. 


Recently, a table of female actors complained about the difficulty in working with female directors, to which Kirsten Dunst said “I work with a lot of female directors. You just have to go out of your way to engage with their content.” ATE!


Obviously, it’s not as simple as this- many changes must be made by the cinema community as a collective. I do believe there is hope for the future of women in cinema, the first place to garner faith is by looking past Western cinema and exploring smaller, overlooked stories. 


The first writer/director that came to mind was Emma Seligman, a narratology genius with a top-tier first name. 


EMMA! SELIGMAN!


Ridiculously funny, organic, and with a deep understanding of what it means and feels like to be a young woman, Emma tells stories with ease, blending in her personal experiences with emotionally overwhelming or challenging environments.

Seligman chooses stories that relate to the average woman, inviting them to feel validation and the opportunity to laugh at themselves. 


Part Two- Shiva Baby (2020) & Bottoms (2023).


Shiva Baby is Seligman’s first cinematic release. It is a theology of a single day in the life of the main character, Danielle, as she visits home for a Shiva.

Shiva, translated from the Hebrew word for seven, is a week-long wake that begins the day of a person's burial), Shiva Baby takes place on the first day of Shiva, and man, one day seems like more than enough. 


Seligman evokes a chaotic recount of what it might feel like to be a member of the Jewish community. Anyone with a large family will feel overwhelmed for the entire runtime.


Speaking of, Shiva Baby is a short 1hr 20m film, it is amazing how exhausted the viewer becomes spending 80 minutes with a big family. I have never felt more seen. 


Shiva Baby predominantly takes place within the walls of a family home, and Seligman navigates this set with great consideration for plot and placement. 

The viewer is trapped in these rooms and conversations just like Danielle. 


A simple story that, whilst congested, never loses its richness, ultimately letting the plot breathe a life of its own. 


Seligman’s stories are a collaborative effort as she encourages the cast to truly engage with their characters, spending a lot of time creating and playing with said characters in pursuit of enriching the overall story. 


This is most evident in the campy Fight Club-esque, coming-of-age film, Bottoms (2023). 

Bottoms is as ridiculously neither hilarious nor touching. 


What could be better than two best friends starting a high school self-defence-fight- club as a ploy to garner the attention of their respective crushes?

Well, it gets better! Two friends struggling with confidence, and selfishness, challenging their current perspectives and committing several criminal acts. 


Seligman proves the power of collaboration through her relationships with actors, Ayo Edibi, and Rachel Sennot. 


This trio trusts one another; their ideas and suggestions are welcomed, allowing the actors to freely experiment with the story. (A large chunk of dialogue was improvised by Edibi and Sennot.)


Seligman curated a safe playground which sparks a palpable chemistry within the cast and with underlying themes of the struggles of late adolescence (friendship, toxic relationships, and identity), the unity of the cast always shines through. 


With the power to navigate intricate personal dynamics and a great understanding of dialogue, Seligman does what many cannot, and will only get better with time!


ree

The Evil Dead (1981) - Evil Dead (2013).

A film title that starts with the first letter of your name [E].


The biggest change in my life so far is my enjoyment of the horror genre. This comes from the girl who hid under the covers for the entirety of Scary Movie 2.


I attribute this to two things; studying make-up and special effects in varsity, and Sofie- a horror fanatic- exposing me to some of the greatest films of the genre.


I don't know how, but Sofia makes almost everything sound amazing. I find myself asking so many questions that our only solution is to put the film on.

She has excellent taste and a love for both psychological thrillers and trash horrors.

I watch every rom-com, and Sofie watches every horror. Twins.


We're at the point where I have suggestions, curious about the horror realm, we have delved into many of the classics and currents, and I have the urge to watch them all!


I’ve become very quick to defend and praise the horror genre because so much attention and planning has to go into executing the perfect story.


A good horror needs a simple but high-stakes plot with climactic murders and a looming sense of suspense.

When one of these areas flops, the suspense of disbelief is shattered, and the viewer can no longer take the film seriously. However, when watching trash horror, a flop is a great success!


Evil Dead succeeds in all of the above.


A rowdy friend group, stuck in a cabin in the woods, reading aloud an ancient Latin scripture that couldn't possibly lead to murderous chaos.

We are invested in the core group, and their murders reflect their personalities and roles. By giving individual attention to the murders, they are impactful and memorable.


Evil Dead has a well-paced climax, tossing out roadblocks for the final girl, and the audience, denouncing the chance for boredom.

We are left satisfied that the character has survived, deeming her efforts worth rewarding.


The Evil Dead (‘81) stands the test of time!


The creators literally chose every style of murder and SFX which is iconic.

Using stop motion, prosthetics, stunts, materials, and substances to mimic blood, body parts, organs- you name it!

They exposed the vastness of SFX and Horror, challenged similar films, and marked a change in the genre going forward.


Both Evil Dead's (1981 & 2013) are ambitious, frightening, disgusting, and totally rewarding!

Boasting incredible scores, SFX, and cinematography, earning its praise and recognition as one of the best horror's of all time!


ree

True Romance (1993).

A Cult Classic.


A cult classic, you say? 


An opportunity to talk about True Romance, you say?  Bet. 


What does one do when they’ve run out of Tarantino’s directorial content? They find the films Tarantino wrote. 

And when they find out who plays Alabama Whitman, Tarantino is simply a bonus. 


True Romance shakes the vague definition of a romantic crime drama like a shimmering snow globe. Bloody glitter clouds the sky as a Las Vegas casino forms into a band of gunfire, love, and revenge. 


Melodramatic, with violent and humorous action, True Romance captures a fiery, fleeting romance that crumbles and strengthens within a high-speed, criminal chase across the states. 


When the enigmatic, sensual, and extremely endearing Alabama (Patricia Arquette) meets comic-book-Elvis-fanatic Clarence (Cristian Slater, ‘Just Slater’ for my fellow Archer lovers out there), the pair are instantly infatuated—obsessed with one another. 


Boasting the trope of star-crossed lovers caught in a world of gambling, and gangsterism, True Romance wants us to know that this film intentionally feeds into the story, rationality aside. 


The title itself defines the story as an unconventional and impractical- almost impossible- style of love. Leaning into the dramatic and unrealistic elements of this love story, Tarantino’s characters engage in impulsive activities, like marriage or murder.


The average viewer doesn’t think or behave with such haste but like Romeo & Juliet, we are now forced to believe the ‘lovers/couples' actions. We don't have to take their relationship seriously, we can just enjoy their journey. 


Further encouraging this, True Romance employs creative methods of murder. 

Though these crimes are vividly violent, they are very creatively elaborate and appease the viewer with their entertaining and visually pleasing elements in favour of plausibility. 


True Romance stands firmly in its world of extravagance, results in mixed reviews from audiences and solidifies this film directly into the core of cult classics. 


With the most stellar cast (Oldman, Walken, Rapaport, etc), vibrant production/costume design and lighting, and a score from Hans Zimmer, True Romance will remain iconic for aeons. 


... I might fuck around and do a rewatch tonight. 


ree

Monster (2023).

Favourite film of 2023.


I’ve spoken on many 2023 films in the past thirty days- a brilliant year for storytelling, the freshman year of cinema revival, setting us up for the magnificent rollout of 2024. 


Monster is no exception.


So tender, yet unsettling, Monster plays with our outlook on reality and responsibility, letting us ponder the preconceived notion of emotional satisfaction. 

It paints morals and monsters as catalysts and asks us to find a personalised understanding of how society can perceive emotions as abnormal, challenging the idea that fitting in with the norm equates to happiness. 


In Monster, we learn that reality and understanding are the same, all perspectives can be true if we acknowledge that the information we have gathered might differ from what others have received.


Monster follows three storylines surrounding the same event, starting with the least information, and gradually adding contextual keys that help unlock the full story as we near the ending. 


Monster stars a single mother, Saoiri, who seeks answers after her son, Minato, is assaulted by his teacher, Hori. 


Saoiri struggles for answers and is shut down by both her son and the school board. Her frustration only increases with each dismissal, and she desperately looks at external reasons for her son’s recent distance and distress. 

Saoiri feels alone in this battle—an example of parental helplessness. 


Hori, a teacher, is accused of physically assaulting Minato. 

This does happen, but the inciting incident is further elaborated on and we learn that at Hori’s core, he wants to help. 


He too notices Minato’s changes in behaviour, but his attempts to aid only muddy the waters when he accidentally bumps Minato’s nose, and his reputation no longer matches his belief systems. 


He wonders how to pursue this dire need to help Minato with his sudden villain status. 

Hori has to convince not only himself but others that his intentions are pure. 


Finally, we get Minato’s story.

Minato has become good friends with an ‘odd’, outcasted classmate, Yori, who exhibits feminine traits that are deemed flamboyant by his alcoholic father and peers. 


Minato struggles with conflicting feelings as he enjoys spending time with his best friend, but has an understanding that his peers will ridicule him similarly to Yori- purely by association. 


Through his eyes, Minato feels the joy of friendship but observes the consequences of embracing these feelings. 


When Yori titles himself as a ‘pig brain’, it's clear that these children see themselves as Monsters. Yori’s father, an elder, believes his child to be defective, Yori’s peers see him as obscure, and society has told Yori that he is a monster in need of a cure. 


Minato now wavers between distancing himself from Yuri and defending him from classmates. 

This amplifies his inner turmoil causing it to manifest into withdrawn or aggressive reactions, finally resulting in his and Yori’s disappearance.


The characters of Monster are essentially alone in a room of plenty. 

They lack connection- fear the consequences of reaching out, rejection from deterring from the norm. 


They search for the normal within, the monster inside, and when that fails to satisfy, they rely on the outer perspective, which only creates greater dissatisfaction. 


Realistically, everyone had a part to play in this story, the responsibility lies on all of them, and none of them. 


Seeing loneliness in its many forms, there is a commonality: how modern society induces and perpetuates aloneness. 


It’s nearly impossible to navigate the storm, trees will collapse your paths, but if you lend one another a hand and follow your feelings, there is always a meadow in the clearing. 

ree

Being John Malkovich (1999).

Favourite Surrealist film.


Dude… what the fuck, right


I’m here to balance out how I ragged on Spike Jonze when I reviewed Her on Day 2. Because, Being John Malkovich is mental, in the best of ways! 


This film is a vehicle for psychological studies concerning voyeurism and parasocial relationships. I thought we’d take it a step further, what about exploring Being John Malkovich as an allegory for how viewers interact with cinema? 


Simply put, we, the viewers, are voyeurs to the stories we watch, observing the characters' lives through their eyes, easily embodying their experiences within a limited timeframe, behind a limited lens, just like the characters of Being John Malkovich. 


Parasocially, being so close to a character’s core, we cannot help but project our feelings on said person.


To a degree, these feelings are valid and encouraged in cinema, but a shared emotional reaction is as far as the connection goes. 


We will never be able to relate to a character, or storyline fully, and even as we expose ourselves to stories outside of our current reality, we cannot say we have now experienced the character's struggles simply because they have evoked familiar feelings. 


This is a good thing! How incredible that art can emulate and relate to the viewer regardless of the differences in reality- finding community in stories they will never experience themselves. 


Being John Malkovich delves into the unsustainability of creating personal connections with creators or performers. This adds strain on artists, which threatens to alter the creative choices they pursue. 


John Malkovich is a puppet. His publicly defined persona is guided into dictated actions and he begins fighting a war against himself. 


The puppeteer, Craig, takes advantage of his ability to sway Malkovich’s decisions without protest. He uses these limited opportunities to get what he wants (a date with a hottie), he portrays the righteous fan. 


Craig’s girlfriend Lottie represents the ‘obsessive’ observer. She quickly becomes enthralled by the moments she spends as Malkovich and will go to lengths to gain further interaction. 


Worst of all, John Malkovich eventually stumbles into the tunnel, and, well, he is suddenly one of many Malkovich’s. 

If this doesn't translate to an identity crisis, then I don't know what does.


Being John Malkovich is bizarre, it’s a brilliant surrealist film, and the concept alone is a masterclass in absurdist storytelling. Go, Jonze!


ree

A Fish Called Wanda (1988.)

I'll judge you if you don't like:


Ah, I just finished a rewatch, and A Fish Called Wanda once again proved that the best types of crime comedies are the silliest, most ambitious ones!


With two of Monty Python's own, John Cleese and Michael Palin, and the talented Kevin Kline, A Fish Called Wanda masterfully executes the art of comedy. 


With classic elements of British cinema, this film employs witty dialogue and physical humour, encouraging the cast to play, scheme, fumble, and miscommunicate as they work to clear themselves from the accusation of jewel thieves (even though they 100% were). 


The film follows the aftermath of a group heist as they attempt to double-cross one another. Filled with plot twists and aversions, we are kept on our toes. 


This also provides space for perhaps the funniest and most tragic B plot in which Michael Palin’s animal-loving softie, Ken, as he tries to kill an old lady, but accidentally murders all 3 of her dogs. I’m not even ashamed of my laughter. 


Jamie-Lee Curtis’ character, Wanda, strings along her fake brother, Otto, her arrested boyfriend, George, and George’s lawyer, Archie.

She charismatically jumps about as she desperately tries to find the hidden jewels. 


John Cleese brings his classic bumbling, forward-thinking style (think Fawlty Towers, the Flying Circus’ Argument Clinic) as Archie, a man struggling with the mundane.


When he meets Wanda, she draws out his spontaneity and passion, eventually encouraging him to participate in criminal behaviour. 


Now, let's talk about the standout, Kevin Kline as Otto- dramatic, impulsive, and totally deranged- He takes the commitment to hiding to the next level.


He’s loud, he’s everywhere, and he descends into madness in the most entertaining of manners. 


Kline is one of few to win an Academy Award for a comedic performance, a small testament to his brilliant ability to bring likeability to a villain.


Easily bouncing off of the cast members, matching their energy with natural personalisation, Kline blends into the world of British cinema, one that still stands 30+ years later. 


With unbridled commitment to the ridiculous world of A Fish Called Wanda, the cast runs this film with dominance and surety. We, the viewer are compelled to believe in the story, no matter how bizarre. 


With a rewarding viewing, and plenty of rewatches, AFCW enriches the experience- the definition of a successful execution.


ree

Chung-hoon Chung.

Favourite cinematographer.


This was one of the easiest picks, and a review for Oldboy (2003) is long overdue! 


Chung Chung-hoon, a South Korean cinematographer who worked his way up and is responsible for an array of well-acclaimed films’ (The Handmaiden, It (2017), and Heretic, Last Night in Soho) incredible cinematography, and lighting elements. 


He has made a massive contribution to the evolution of South Korean cinema, and his signature style has proven to withstand the test of time.

Furthermore, Chung Chung-hoon has the incredible ability to adapt his use of colours and camera shots in favour of what the film requires.


He values the importance of understanding the story and the characters emotions and motives- creating a connection between him and the material that then allows him to apply angles and lighting with mindful intentions- bringing the characters closer to the viewer. 


Chung Chung-hoon lets his camera follow the characters and  meticulously balances the stories mysteries and facts, evading spoiling the story, rather allowing it to unfold naturally- his lens is simply a voyeuristic vehicle. 


A most worthy example of Chung Chung-hoon’s ambitious style is Oldboy (2003). 

 

OldBoy is a myriad of stark colours, and unconventional action, with sharp undertones of violence and psychological torture. 

Director, Park Chan-wook entrusted Chung-hoon with the daunting task of handling such a chaotic, action-packed screenplay, and Chung did more than execute the assignment.


Chung Chung-hoon employs his preference for combining wide-angle and telephoto lenses to induce a sense of unease and discomfort. 


Low angles and close-ups are used to mimic the main protagonist, Dae-su’s feelings of disorientation and powerlessness.

His favour for handheld camera work carries the intense emotions and psychological distress of the characters, immersively emphasising the urgency of their experiences. 


He recognises the importance of lighting when setting the atmosphere and chooses high-contrasting lighting- predominantly muted tones- to accentuate the dark and moody atmosphere. 


His cinematography evolves and heightens alongside Dae-su’s increased confusion and desperation.

These meticulous decisions highlight the film's themes of revenge and redemption, blurring the lines between moral boundaries and the destructive nature of revenge. 


Chung Chung-hoon is unafraid to take risks, his care and respect for the plot and characters enriches his ability to storytell. His films are as unique as his style- unforgettable!


ree

Boogie Nights (1997).

Favourite film from the year you were born.


Who the fuck wakes up one morning and thinks, “huh, what if porn had storylines?”, and who the fuck decides to build an entirely charismatic and enegmatic film based off of this premise? 


Paul Thomas Anderson, my man! 


I envy and admire his ambition- a mere 26 years old upon this films release.

Better yet, a film released the year I was born! 


Boogie Nights. A permanent space on my letterboxd top 4, a fuckin’ masterpiece, this film is the reason I wake up in the morning! 


Boogie Nights takes us back to San Fernando Valley in the late 70s where disco, cocaine, and sex on screen were a way of life! We are taken along on the journey of young pornstar, Eddie aka Dirk Diggler (Mark Wahlburg) as he tackles stardom and contributes to the evolution of the adult film industry. 


Dirk is recruited by the OG silver fox, Jack (Burt Reynolds), who is a porn filmmaker with a passion for collaboration and pornography. 


Jack has cultivated a ‘family’ of misfits and runaways, collectively working as crewmembers, actors, etc.


Some of these multifaceted characters include, Amber (Julianne Moore), Reed (John C. Reilly), Rollergirl (Heather Graham), Buck (Don Cheadle), and Scotty (Philip Seymour Hoffman). CASTING!


The cast vary in crisis, each personality and their intentions are fleshed out and contain individual problems. 


For example, Amber is a well-loved adult star, struggling with being apart from her young son, and consequentially battles with addiction. 


Amber seeks out characters that need motherly figures, trying to fill the void of her son's absence.- this is most notable in her relationship with Dirk, whom connect over their shared need for a mother-son dynamic.

Amber distracts herself with drugs and a devotion to protecting her family. 


Rollergirl is a high-school runaway, known for her beauty and her roller skates, she is still young, and though her chosen family does provide a certain level of protection, she is constantly violated and surrounded by dangerous interactions.


As the story progresses, Rollergirl is swept further into the dark underbelly of LA fame and nightlife. She reflects on her chosen path and begins to consider what might have been- what could still be.


Dirk Diggler, owner of an unusually massive penis, drops out of school and runs away from home in pursuit of stardom. 


Under the paternal figure, Jack, he is suddenly thrust into the limelight. 

Jack and Dirk bond over the desire to create adult films with depthful storylines (its the thought that counts), excited to elevate and evolve the future of erotic cinema. 


But with rapidly increasing fame and a demand for consistently well executed performances, Dirk slips into a mess of drugs. 


The drugs eventually effect his sex drive, and he fails to come to the party (laugh), leaving Dirk to finally confront his aloneness, vulnerability, self-worth and identity- his ego is so fragile that the smallest critique sends him into an aggressive emotional break. 


The commonality between all characters in Boogie Nights is that they are all emotionally fragile, verging on collapse if the slightest incident becomes intolerable. 


Their loneliness cannot be fully soothed by their new family without confronting their past traumas. 


And with the support of said family, there is space for each character to feel encouraged and protected as they choose how to move forward. 


In the middle of such dysfunction, Thomas Anderson proves the importance of community stability- whether it be a nuclear family or a collection of erotic film-maker, knowing you can come home to love and understanding is something money just can't buy. 


Boogie Nights is jam-packed with fun, danger, tenderness, and a ton of love. 

Maybe it was never about the guns, sex, drugs, and money… maybe it was about the family we made along the way!


ree

Look Back (2024).

Favourite film of 2024.


If you can't tell, I’ve been putting off finishing this game. And writing this review. I need to work on letting go. That said, the longer version of this review is on my blog- link in bio. 

Nevertheless, we’ve reached the finale, and what better way to wrap it up than with a film that questions endings? 


Look Back (Katakana), based on the highly rated one-shot web manga by Tatsuki Fujimoto, and written and directed by Kiyotaka Oshiyama, spends a mere fifty minutes exploring the tenderly heartbreaking experience of grief, and how we try to make sense of something so beyond our control. 


Fujino, a young artist with an affinity for creating manga, is well-praised by her peers and finds much validation in her manga strip contribution to the school’s weekly newsletter. 


But when a mysterious artist named Kyomoto begins submitting her own manga, Fujino struggles with sharing her talent and praise with someone she has yet to see face-to-face. 


She begins doubting her drawing skills, her introspective and emotional art is in stark contrast to Kyomoto’s bold and often optimistic style. These creative differences go on to symbolise their contrasting personalities and perspectives.


When the duo finally meet, Kyomoto expresses her adoration for Fujino’s art and the two team up to create the ultimate story. Fujino’s feelings evolve from competitive to inspired, and in turn, their friendship and love grow deep roots.

Each has something to offer, the combination of their styles creates a three-dimensional approach to both art and everyday life. 


Ultimately, the two become separated by distance and age, going on to pursue their futures, choosing different paths. Fujino becomes a well-acclaimed manga artist and Kyomoto enrols in university. 


But when Kyomoto tragically dies, Fujino stumbles back into the memories of their youth, and questions their interactions and her own role in the decisions that wound up to this heartbreaking moment. 


As the creators apply the use of internal dialogue and visual flashbacks, Fujino looks back into the past, trying to find any moments, words, or choices that could have stopped Kyomoto from dying. She revisits the places they went, the room where they spent hours on end sketching, skipping along the paths of the countryside on the way home from school. 


What if they had never been friends? What if Kyomoto never came outside? 


But if they hadn't been friends, Fujino would still be where she is now, doing the art that she loves. Though Kyomoto might not have come outside, her admiration and perspective of Fujino would have remained the same. 

Kyomoto’s love for drawing would have resulted in her future decisions, and her tragic death would be as likely to occur. 

That can’t be changed by companionship. 


What did change was Kyomoto’s outlook on life, her friendship with Fujino expanded her understanding of the world, and it made her life so much more enjoyable. 

Fujino feels the same, this love she has for Kyomoto is overwhelming her and the choice to retrace their footsteps is a protected attempt to make sense of the raw sadness that Kyomoto’s death incites. 


In the end, Fujino has to acknowledge Kyomoto’s death- that she feels frustration, sorrow, confusion, and utter helplessness. The only thing she can do is to find a space for Kyomoto in both her heart and her artwork. 


Fujino returns to her drawing, she tapes a drawing from Kyomoto to the window she faces when creating her art. Kyomoto might have passed on, but her energy, the relationship she shared with Fujino is just as real as it was when they frolicked the fields as children. Kyomoto will remain an immortalised inspiration for Fujino, a fondness for the past, a reminder of the fragility of existence.


Grief is a universal experience, in some form or another, we are subjected to loss- often a type we can't control. What individualises our grief is how we attempt to come to terms with death.


With a succession of people close to me dying in the last couple of years, I have struggled to find space for my sorrow. At first, it felt easier to ignore and deny their departures, but time waits for no one and the longer you wait, the less relevant and valid your grief feels- this is untrue. Grief is embedded within us. 


With a mostly westernised experience, I've noticed how uncomfortable it is to engage with someone who has lost a loved one, how individual 


The polite thing is to say condolences and then never bring it up again, as if the topic is as taboo as, i don't know, incest- as if speaking of death will ensure the reaper on your doorstep. Individualism is most present in grief. Mourning is to be done alone. 


My mom says I take death harder than other people, but death is inevitable and to some degree, natural, I am not afraid of it, I want to embrace its eventual greeting. 


Perhaps the shame of imposing on others creates an isolated experience, where it is easier to act with anger and withdrawal than to just cry- to sob and ache aloud. 

When all we know is to hold it in and dismiss the harsh reality of mortality, why wouldn't we proceed with stoicism and emotional restraint? 


This encouraged me to look deeper into the different ways in which communities and cultures interact with grief and loss. And then it made sense. I come from a nation of collectivism- as are many Asian cultures. 


Collectivism emphasises the importance of family and community- often influencing how grief is expressed and processed. 

When loss occurs, community involvement and support is guaranteed (this could include collective mourning, shared rituals, and communal support networks). 


In some cultures, ancestral worship, offerings, and ceremonies honouring the dead are an integral part of the grieving process. 

This creates a space for both remembering the deceased and the ability to healthily move forward. 


Accepting loss and the passage of time is an important reminder of what we have right here, right now. It is part of the universal cycle- we must try to embrace it, talk about it, and share memories and sorrows- how beautiful that ultimately, humans are as integral to the life cycle as nature and creatures, we are not separate to the world around us, we are life, and life must end to make space for the new. 


But I also believe that grief is not something that disappears, we simply make space for it in our everyday lives. We find ways to feel love and loss in the midst of living on.

Lois Tonkin says, 

“People think that grief slowly gets smaller with time. In reality, grief stays the same size but life slowly starts to grow bigger around it.” 


Perhaps grief is one of the most important and rawest emotions a human will experience. It is only in anguish that we grow, without turmoil, how can we experience joy at its fullest? How do we even know what true joy is without deep sorrow? 


Something that stood out to me was Kyomoto being buried beneath a pomegranate tree- a symbol of abundance and the cyclical nature of life.

This imagery skillfully represents the idea that life and death are intertwined, and that grief is a natural part of the human experience. 


We have to embrace grief, create a space to safely hold these losses, and find ways to live on for not only ourselves but also the memories of our loved ones.


There will never come a time when our loved ones' deaths will no longer hurt- it will always feel like the very first time we found out, but the magnificence of the human capability to keep living on even in sorrow is an art.

_____


And we're done! Thank you for following along my journey of reviewing 30 films- it was an exciting callenge that had me thinking outside of the box, considering and researching aspects of cinema I might have neglected prior. I got the chance to integrate my feelings and the art of cinema into some of my favourite reviews to date.

Knowing me, this certainly isnt the last game we'll play, so stay tuned for more!

Comments


All written content Copyright © 2022 The Online Archives. All rights reserved. You may not otherwise copy or transmit the contents of this website either electronically or in hard copy. You may not alter the content of this site in any manner. If you are interested in using the contents of or linking to this website, please provide credit or contact THE ONLINE ARCHIVES who may or may not grant permission.

bottom of page