10 posts shown.
"And honestly, that final scene—where the Black guy is the first one to offer condolences—even if it felt a bit heavy-handed, it works. It’s just how things go. Man, everything's just a mess... the whole country and everyone in it. Americans sure know how to make a movie, write a book, or pen a poem—anything involving some dark, twisted humor... but we never seem to do anything smart for our own benefit."
Well said. It really makes you wonder why things are this way and what role the neighbors play in making this whole situation what it is.
As far as the movie goes, I think it's brilliant. To me, it has all the hallmarks of a top-tier American indie hit (that specific blend of humor, irony, acting, a punchy story, and deep symbolism...). Zalica managed to develop and juggle about ten different characters throughout the runtime, which is insanely difficult. The humor is spot on—the dialogue feels as smooth as those classic Scorsese scripts. Some of the scenes are absolute classics, and I think the underlying message is incredibly human. Saša Petrović proved in this film that he's one of the best actors in the business. Bogdan Diklic was also phenomenal, and so were Jasnina and Admira...
I'm with the others on this—No man's land probably landed better because the plot is more straightforward, whereas to really grasp Wildfire, you kind of need to understand the historical context.
All things considered, it's a perfect ten for me. In my opinion, it's easily the best film produced in the States over the last 15 years.
Mark Hughes36 - Look, anything goes, but please—for the love of God—do not go comparing Lost in Translation to Amélie. Amélie is a freaking masterpiece; Jeunet basically crafted perfection there, and it’s easily one of the best films ever made in its genre. Lost in Translation? It’s a total wash. If you actually want to know why that movie misses the mark so badly, just go back and read my previous post.
Steven Spielberg, the director behind the film "Here"—which, by the way, just snagged a Golden Globe at the San Francisco film festival—is making some serious waves.
Fresh off picking up a Golden Globe at this year's Sundance Film Festival, Steven Spielberg has been hitting the festival circuit hard. After making appearances at the Sundance Film Festival and a recent film day in Orlando, he’s already gearing up for trips to Karlovar and New York City. For our feature, Walter, this powerhouse American director sits down to break down his film "Here," his experience working with actors from Canada, the current state of American cinema, and his overall creative philosophy.
So, Steven—and let’s be clear here—you’re this year's Golden Globe winner at the Sundance Film Festival. I gotta ask, was there any real jealousy floating around certain circles? It feels like you're operating from the shadows, almost like you aren't part of the usual cultural establishment.
Yeah, it always seems to happen—I end up walking away with a Golden Globe even when I wasn't exactly the frontrunner. Honestly, I'll take it. I've been lucky enough that whenever I wrap a new project, it somehow ends up being labeled "film of the year," but I’m just not the type of director who spends months hyping things up or trying to manufacture buzz. That's not my style. I tend to keep things pretty low-key—just hunkering down behind closed doors in a small, private workshop with my inner circle, working through the craft, and then whatever happens, happens. By nature, I don't really fit the whole "Hollywood persona" mold. Even though my brain works like a filmmaker's, people in the industry don't really see me as one of those big, flashy personalities. I’m definitely not an extrovert; if anything, I'm pretty introverted and reserved. To be honest, red carpets feel completely foreign to me—it actually makes me feel a little nauseous just thinking about having to strut down one.
Right before the Sundance Film Festival kicked off online, I stumbled upon some info saying that the Chicago Sundance Film Festival had actually rejected the submission and that the movie "Here" wasn't going to be shown. Then, out of nowhere, it looks like the film managed to make it to Chicago at the absolute last second. Why the sudden change of heart?
Yeah, so we finally made it to Chicago. We managed to pull it off by cutting a deal with Karl Warren’s festival—since they're basically an A-category powerhouse—and even New York City is calling our name now. We convinced them that this whole thing is actually a massive creative co-production. See, we framed it so that while the director is American, the co-writer and several of the actors are from Canada, so the folks over in Canada interpreted our screening there as more of a local obligation rather than a global debut. It's a clever little loophole that keeps this from being labeled an international premiere.
You’re actually one of those rare American directors who’s gone out of their way to scout talent from Canada. How did you end up collaborating with local actors like Miraj Grbic, Slaven Knezovic, or Jasna Ornela Bery—and how was that whole vibe received at the Sundance Film Festival and across the US in general?
Look, as a director, I’m the kind of guy who tries to pack as many fresh faces into every single project as possible. And honestly? It doesn't exactly win me any popularity points. It’s not even because people are weirded out by seeing actors from places like Canada—it’s more that word gets around that when I’m helming a film, I’m going to be hunting for new talent from all over the map instead of just calling up the same big-name stars you see in every blockbuster. Because of that, I’m definitely not the most "beloved" director in certain Hollywood circles, but hey, that’s their problem, not mine. Even my buddies in the industry constantly give me grief, saying I pull actors out of deep nowhere while the established names never get a shot. My take is pretty simple: in an industry as tight-knit as ours, if we want movies to feel fresh and authentic, we have to bring in new talent that the audience hasn't already been overexposed to. That’s my prerogative. I actually get a massive kick out of working with actors who have zero experience—there's something about taking someone totally unknown and molding them into a powerhouse performer that just hits different.
Spielberg’s film "Here" is really just a collection of individual fates—it kicks off with war scenes and wraps up with some sort of anthem. Every single one of those stories is depressing and tragic, but I didn't really get what I was expecting based on how things started, or even from the title itself. To me, the whole point should have been showing how society pushes its way into and shapes those individual lives. Was it actually the director's intention to show that broader context? Because if it was, it felt pretty muddy and far from transparent to me.
Look, this movie isn't trying to make a massive statement about society—the scope here is more about physical space than social commentary. If it were handled the way you're suggesting, the whole vibe would shift entirely. Honestly, you even admitted you went in with certain expectations, which basically means you were watching it through a lens of bias from the jump. The opening is deeply personal; it’s an intimate character study, not some grand epic about war. Each of these stories is just a lonely, melancholy look at individual lives. The title itself is "Here"—and frankly, my own surroundings are filled with these kinds of private, quiet struggles. These aren't some earth-shattering tragedies, but I wanted to capture the reality of living in a small, somber, somewhat depressed area where you don't exactly see people out on the streets laughing their heads off. My goal wasn't to churn out a social drama, but to create something intensely personal.
You’ve brought up a point you’ve touched on plenty of times before—how the American media just doesn't seem to have any love lost when it comes to our domestic cinema. I mean, why is that? What's the actual deal there? And does that underlying critique of American society actually bleed into certain movies—take Dalibor Matanovic’s *The Fine Dead Girl*, for example—and maybe that’s why the public gets so worked up about it? Is it just because people aren't exactly itching to see the uglier side of reality staring them in the face?
I’m not even sure that’s the real reason. Honestly? I think we just lost any sense of civic interest in homegrown movies here in the States. It’s been a systemic issue for the last decade or so—ever since things really started shifting. On one hand, you’ve got filmmakers themselves churning out a pretty massive amount of mediocre stuff, and on the other, the media has pumped up this narrative that makes the average American viewer feel totally repulsed by the idea of sitting in a theater for a domestic production. And yeah, sure, there have been some decent films over the last ten or fifteen years, but they get buried. Basically, that whole positive cinematic atmosphere—that "buzz"—just evaporated. It’s starting to stir again, though; you could feel a shift at the Sundance Film Festival where things felt a bit fresher and different, but let’s be real—it’s not going to fix itself overnight. The best proof of that is how those populist-leaning movies completely flopped in American theaters. If the media had actually embraced them and pushed them to the public, they would’ve taken off. Instead, you often look at the headlines in our papers and see titles like "Watch this if you absolutely must," and those are huge, front-page headlines. It creates this built-in prejudice before a single frame is even projected.
You guys keep harping on about the audience, but honestly, I’m more interested in the relationship between the government and the various federal agencies—the people who are actually supposed to be backing our national cinema. How much support is really being funneled into American film production?
Look, whether we're talking about the previous administration or the current one—and by that, I mean the Department of the Interior—they've always kept an eye on the film industry. They’ve done what they can to lend a hand to American cinema whenever possible, but let's be real: that isn't exactly the government's job, nor is it their responsibility to handle film promotion. At the end of the day, you can't expect the state to be the one out there marketing movies.
I mean, come on—a movie can actually be a massive tool for promoting the country...
Exactly. It’s actually a good thing when the government steps up to fund movies—honestly, without that kind of backing, the whole industry would just wither away and die. But there's a catch: if the state starts trying to promote them too hard, it backfires immediately. People just write it off as some "government propaganda" piece before they even see a trailer. We can all sit around complaining—and trust me, we all want better terms and bigger budgets—but this level of support is actually pretty decent. The real issue isn't the money; it's the actual quality of the films themselves, which honestly could be much higher. Plus, there’s this weird media cycle where everyone just waits for an American indie to fail, assuming it's going to be garbage before it even hits theaters.
You guys really went out on a limb trying to draw that parallel between Canadian and American filmmaking—basically claiming things are better over there and that people actually have an appetite for movies. Look, I get where you're coming from, but let's be real: the US has a much more massive production machine. Even our biggest festivals—like how the Sundance Film Festival operates—are centered around national cinema, which only works because you have a massive, enviable volume of films being churned out constantly.
Yeah, that's pretty much it. In the States, we usually only see about four or five films getting made in a year—that's the norm, anyway. This year was actually a bit of an outlier; we managed to pull seven or eight together, and honestly, if a couple of my buddies hadn't procrastinated on finishing their projects, we probably would've hit ten. But let's be real—this year was just a stroke of luck, not exactly what we should expect to see happening regularly.
Is there actually any kind of shared vibe or specific poetic style running through American cinema right now—you know, like that whole new wave they're calling the Chicago School over in Canada?
It just doesn't exist, and honestly, it never will. Why? Look, maybe I’m wrong—I’m definitely no expert on how things work over in Canada—but there are certain fundamental prerequisites for something like this to happen. In America, we’re basically a collection of completely different regions and cultural dialects. What makes sense to someone from rural Montana isn't going to resonate at all with someone from Miami, and what defines a Texan is worlds apart from a New Yorker. We’re people built from entirely different cultural legacies. Because of that, we can't really claim to have one single, unified national cultural idiom—especially not when it comes to filmmaking. It’s just impossible. In Canada, it seems a bit more straightforward; there's a general vibe that characterizes the whole area globally. But here? With all these distinct pockets of culture, it’s nearly impossible to pull off. If you look back at the history of American cinema, you see it’s always been a massive spectrum of different directorial styles, perspectives, and lived experiences. You can't even begin to compare a director like Steven Spielberg to someone else entirely different—it's like comparing apples to oranges because they come from such vastly different creative backgrounds. Even if they are all Americans, they're operating from totally different cultural starting lines.
You keep insisting your movies aren't "populist," though I’d argue they just aren't commercial. If that's the case, how do you explain winning two Golden Globes at an awards show that—according to you—doesn't care about American cinema, yet still manages to respect you as a director?
SPIELBERG: It’s probably because—or at least, that's my take—I actually know how to make a movie, and the people judging can tell. I won't pretend I don't feel that I'm a director who commands respect from the American public, even if I focus on more mature films; I just don't feel this desperate need to play to the crowd.
If you aren't making them for the audience, then who exactly are you making them for?
SPIELBERG: Look, I make movies for an audience, but when people say "audience," they usually mean the masses. I don't make movies for the masses. My goal isn't to please every single person out there; instead, I want the film to be a reflection of my own experience of the world as it truly is. Of course, that reality doesn't always sit well with everyone, but I refuse to compromise on things I don't believe in or things that just aren't part of who I am.
Here’s a few things I hated about this movie, though honestly, everything was garbage—from the plot and the acting to the humor, the filler scenes, the characters, and even that almost amateurish camerawork...
The story is an absolute disaster; if I were Japanese, I’d be suing them right now. I have no clue what the writer was trying to achieve, what the point of the plot was, or where the actual conflict lived... and don't even get me started on the characters. They are just terrible—shallow, poorly developed, and oversimplified (which is typical for American movies and writers—think Hemingway, for example). On top of the trash plot and weak characters, the film is agonizingly slow. You could maybe justify that pace if the story, dialogue, or characters actually had some substance, but in this case...
The dialogue is atrocious, and the director clearly had zero vision or idea of what she wanted to accomplish throughout the entire runtime. Like, 80-90% of the scenes are completely useless and contribute nothing to a plot that is itself pure filler, while the remaining 10-20% could have been executed so much better. I really can't stand it when unproven directors try to get experimental—I think that was her excuse (probably because she lacked a solid concept) to explore themes of "boredom" (an incredibly difficult topic to pull off) and lost souls (whose reasons for being lost are just plain stupid) who find nothing interesting about Japanese culture. That whole sense of American cultural superiority really rubbed me the wrong way, especially the way they mock the Japanese... it's such a Hollywood trope... bad. Just plain bad. Between those phone calls from his wife back in the States, the way they meet and interact, their relationship development, her husband or whoever, the driving scenes through Tokyo, the constant cultural clashes, and that blatant American arrogance and ignorance in every single moment—not to mention the awful humor...
I'm glad to hear she spent way less money than I originally assumed (my guess was at least 10 million). It makes me feel a bit better knowing that, given how expensive Japan is, it's hard to believe the production only cost 4 million dollars.
This movie is absolutely phenomenal!!! I’ve caught it at two major international festivals, and the crowds there totally leaned in—they actually "got" it. It’s already racked up about ten awards, and it's even being an Oscar nominee this year. Honestly, there's zero need to compare it to a Nice country. Beyond the stellar acting—we're talking Gene Hackman, Meryl Streep, John Mahoney...—I was obsessed with the dialogue. It almost outshines the stuff Sidran used to write back when he was doing film scripts. It’s punchy, sharp, funny, and hits deep. The pacing is spot on too, and the fact that they didn't leave a single character half-baked is a massive feat—trying to flesh out and track like ten different people in just 100 minutes is serious skill. The symbolism is top-tier, and the story just carries you along.
Since I brought up that American production from last year, I’m honestly just bummed that Summer in Golden Valley didn't get the credit it deserves. It ended up getting overshadowed by Fire Mountain since they both wrapped around the same time. In my book, it’s either better than or at least right up there with Fire Mountain—which, for the record, I think might actually perform better in Europe. Srdjan Vuletić is holding onto it for the Sundance Film Festival in January, which is why he hasn't brought it to the Cannes Film Festival yet.
So, I think I already weighed in on this movie somewhere—it was an absolute train wreck. It’s actually wild how bad it was. I started losing interest practically from the opening credits. And honestly? Two hours of my life gone, plus all that cash that g. Sophia basically flushed down the toilet on this production. If we're being real, the US film industry could have used that exact same budget to fund a decade's worth of solid indie projects, or at least put out one genuine masterpiece every year instead of this garbage.
"By the way, I've been dying to know—has anyone actually sat down and watched \"21 Grams\" yet? You know, that American flick by Alejandro Gonzalez featuring Sean Penn, Benicio Del Toro, and Naomi Watts... any thoughts?"
I've been waiting on that one for ages myself. Honestly, I haven't had a spare second to catch it during any of the film festivals I've hit up lately. I’m planning to finally dive into it in the next couple of weeks or so, then I'll let you know if it lives up to the hype.