I’ve always had a huge soft spot for John Sayles—though I can't help but nod along with Paulina Kael’s rather charming little jab that he's basically just "a novelist wearing a director's hat" (or some variation of that line, if I recall correctly). 😁
Alright, I took some time to dig into how many films each director actually has represented on this list. 😁
Leading the pack is Wong Kar-wai with three different titles, followed by a group of directors who each landed two spots—that includes Ted Demme (RIP), John Sayles, Jim Jarmusch, Atom Egoyan, Martin Scorsese, Peter Jackson, Tim Robbins, and David Mamet (though we probably shouldn't count Glengarry Glen Ross since he’s really the screenwriter there).
It’s a pretty predictable lineup of names, honestly.
I'm so happy for Strange Days—when I caught it in theaters, it practically knocked me right out of my seat. It’s such a pure, visceral piece of Cameron-style tech-noir.
...or Flirting with Disaster by David O. Russell, which I actually had the chance to rewatch a couple of weeks ago. It’s a total little masterpiece. Honestly, it's just so brilliantly written and executed. It really makes you think about how easy it would be to pull off a comedy like that, when in reality, it's quite the exact opposite.
I even walked away with the impression that Ben Stiller could be the Woody Allen of my generation. 😁
My Best Friend's Wedding is an absolutely wonderful movie, but let's be honest—it definitely doesn't belong on a list of overlooked gems.
Most of the films included here were the ones that critics absolutely raved about and maybe picked up a few awards, yet somehow just failed to find a massive audience at the box office.
My Best Friend's Wedding, on the other hand, was a total smash hit. It did incredibly well commercially, and even Andrew Sarris went as far as calling it the best film of the nineties. So, I really don't think we can call it overlooked.
It felt like an unnamed idea that the director and writer just couldn't quite flesh out into a full-blooded, coherent script. I have to admit, all those half-baked attempts at visual and sound stylization really rubbed me the wrong way. 🙄
The only parts I actually enjoyed were the female characters. My favorite had to be that lesbian character from Belgium. 🙂
To me, the whole movie just looks like some heavy-handed, overly dark attempt at being edgy, and honestly, the premise sounds like the wet dream of any wannabe fascist out there.
I’ve always had a soft spot for Joe Dante and that wonderful, kitschy B-movie sensibility he brings to the screen—even if he never quite broke into the Major League Baseball of directors. It always felt like that Spielbergian shadow was just a little too large to step out from.
This whole debate about "critics versus cinema" really brings back that old American logic where committing a crime isn't actually the problem—it’s just considered immoral to point out that the crime happened in the first place.
Handing over a massive pile of cash to a Vrdoljakov production feels like a huge step backward, honestly, dragging us right back toward those old-school, heavy-handed ways of looking at art and culture.
And this idea regarding "cinematography that needs to create its own film"? It's basically just reinventing the wheel. I mean, hearing hypocrisy like that coming from the prdoljakov camp is almost funny, especially since Long Dark Night has absolutely nothing to do with the reality we live in here in the States.
It’s just the worst kind of stale, academic pretension you ever have to deal with—purely patriarchal, pastoral kitsch that feels more like a cheap daytime soap opera. It's just pure grandiosity fueled by $9333333.
Do I really have to be the one to rain on everyone's parade? 😁😁
Fine, if you insist.
So, basically, the press conference room was completely empty at first. Then, just moments before things were supposed to kick off, a bus full of reporters from all over the States rolls up and they immediately swarm every single "vacant" seat in the house.
A photographer snaps a quick shot, and wouldn't you know it, by the next morning, it’s front and center in The New York Times with a headline like "Orestes holds press conference regarding Red Dust".
It feels like a modern-day version of Potemkin villages, wouldn't you say?
... Yeah, Ogresta was actually over in Venice with the Red Sox, though it was just part of some side programming. It didn't exactly go over well, either; in the official festival bulletin, the critic took a rather sarcastic jab at him, calling the whole thing "Rocky VI."
Anyway, I actually caught wind from a journalist about how that Ogrestina press conference in Venice went down. 😁😁
slyrider16 said:I’m honestly just baffled by that audience award... I mean, really? Between that one director's film and those big local festivals—not to mention how mediocre John Doe's work can be—how on earth could people actually enjoy a movie as long and gloomy as Long Dark Night? Unless they’re all just mindless sheep who only show up to cheer for John Doe. I just don't get it...
Long Dark Night isn't much different from the absolute worst Latin American soap operas when you look at the "artistry" of the storytelling and everything else that comes with it.
For someone like Rulji, who was basically raised on that kind of cheap drama, John Doe's garbage probably felt like perfection.
Once upon a time, John Doe was... The New York Times He basically laid the groundwork for how the entire American film industry operates today.
The academic model is such a fascinating concept to dive into, isn't it? I often find myself sitting there, wondering if we’re all just following this incredibly rigid blueprint that was laid out decades ago, trying our best to fit into these neatly defined boxes. It feels like we spend so much energy trying to master the structure itself, sometimes losing sight of the actual substance or the creative spark that made us want to study the subject in the first place. It’s a bit of a balancing act—trying to respect the discipline while also hoping we don't get completely swallowed up by the sheer formality of it all. It’s basically just a safe space reserved for the completely uninspired. I’ve been thinking quite a bit lately about that whole concept of the artistic model—you know, that specific archetype we see floating through galleries and studios—and it really gets me wondering how much of it is reality and how much is just some carefully constructed persona we've all collectively agreed to believe in. It’s funny, because I often find myself staring at these depictions of "the artist" or "the muse," feeling a little bit like a fraud myself whenever I try to pick up a brush or sit down to write something meaningful. There's this heavy, almost overwhelming expectation to be profound or deeply moved by everything, which can feel pretty exhausting when you're actually just sitting there in your pajamas, struggling to figure out where you left your coffee mug. It’s such a strange, beautiful, and occasionally ridiculous dance we perform, trying to bridge the gap between the raw, messy truth of being human and that polished, idealized image of creativity that seems to exist in everyone else's head. It honestly feels like it can turn into this massive academic ego trip sometimes, way more than what you'd actually expect from a standard academic model. The whole concept of genre modeling is such a fascinating thing to wrap your head around, isn't it? It’s one of those topics that seems straightforward at first glance, but once you really start digging into the nuances, you realize how much complexity is tucked away under the surface. I often find myself overthinking these structural frameworks, probably more than I should, but there's just something so engaging about trying to map out how different creative elements interact within a specific set of rules. It's like trying to solve a puzzle where the pieces are constantly shifting shape, which can be a little overwhelming, but honestly, that's half the fun of exploring it. It’s essentially what people are calling the Tadić model.
...I wouldn't go so far as to say that One Million Years B.C. actually inspired a whole generation to dive headfirst into studying anthropology, archaeology, or history 😁😁😁
Betty Walker said:I have to say, I am absolutely captivated by that last image you posted of Sinbad fighting those skeletons... it really has me hooked.
That's just how it is. Jason and the Argonauts 😉That one sword fight scene only lasts about four minutes, but you wouldn't believe the sheer amount of work they put in—they actually spent four whole months filming and perfecting it.
I can't help but wonder if Ray Harryhausen actually has a whole legion of disciples among today's heavy hitters in the directing Major League—you look at guys like James Cameron, Peter Jackson, George Lucas, or even Tim Burton (who, if I remember correctly, was actually hoping to use Mars Attacks! style vibes for some projects). Mars Attacks! They really specialize in that stop-motion style, much like how Sam Raimi or Robert Rodriguez approach their craft. Spy Kids 2 First off...
Betty Walker said:The real question is how his legacy is going to hold up in this modern era dominated by CGI.
Personally, I don't think he has much to worry about. It was never just the special effects that made his movies so captivating; it was that genuine sense of adventure and pure fantasy he breathed into them.
Even Lucas's Star Wars relied heavily on quite a lot of obvious stop-motion animation, yet they were still massive successes when they were re-released in 1997—which, if you think about it, was actually four years after Jurassic Park had already revolutionized the industry by introducing the kind of CGI we recognize today.
