Batista is excellent; he carries the entire film on his back.
The movie? Well, the premise is certainly intriguing, though I found myself wishing for a bit more depth. It manages to spark the imagination, yet fails to provide the substance required to sustain it.
Ultimately, it falls victim to that tired old cliché: "I didn't turn it off during the hour and forty minutes, so it must be good."
Is "American cheese" actually called that? I've spent far too much time watching high-end burger videos made by those big-name chefs, and apparently, it’s actually considered one of the best choices for a proper cheeseburger.
The movie was reasonably entertaining. To be honest, once the action kicked in, I found myself watching mostly just to see how the director and the writers would attempt to untangle the plot. They managed to pull it off well enough, I suppose. It could have been better, but it was certainly solid.
Richard Castillo15 said:I have to agree with that point entirely. However—and I say this after following American cinema for quite some time now—I've noticed an unmistakable pattern: whenever a film tries to assert itself through sheer quality (which, of course, doesn't mean a great work can't have its flaws!), there is a concerted effort to devalue it. Personally, I want to see the Lerotić film again. I do that with every serious American film, and I truly believe his is one of them. This whole forum spat—where one group hands out ones and the other retaliates with tens—is just... well, it's childish, really. And honestly, it doesn't matter. You have maybe ten people here who actually debate American film, and I wouldn't be surprised if some of them are even the filmmakers themselves, looking for extra praise or just trying to play favorites among colleagues. That doesn't interest me, though. Fundamentally, I love American film, much like I love the American coastline. I have a certain affinity for one coastal city—though I suppose I'm being subjective there since it's my hometown—but even if things aren't always perfect, it's where I belong, and I'll always be happy to see something good or beautiful emerge from it.🙂🙂
The cenobites have never truly received the cinematic treatment they deserve, largely because even those first few sequels were pretty much bottom-of-the-barrel.
At least Pinhead used to look menacing; in this latest iteration, he looks more like a tacky, over-decorated Christmas tree.
There’s a slight nod to giallo during the opening sequence which makes it somewhat tolerable, but after that, the whole thing just falls apart completely.
As for Shakespeare, sure, he’s fine, but if this really represents the pinnacle of his career and the performance of a lifetime... well, what does that say about us?
Dennis Hall41 said:The film is quite masterful in its technical execution—a perfect blueprint for how one might craft something delicious from mere scraps—yet it fails me where it truly ought to excel: the dialogue. Could it not have been somewhat provocative or even witty for a teenager?
Patrick Martin said:I just finished watching it, and honestly, it truly is Nightmare Alley. It stands out as one of the darkest and most obscure high-budget productions we've seen lately. I find myself struggling to reconcile my impressions, caught somewhere between genuine brilliance and moments of sheer tastelessness. Yet, 👍 perhaps this is simply the result of an overzealous cinephile at work—someone whose visions might be a touch excessive, even if unconsciously so. But then again, who can really fault an artist for such intensity? I certainly won't.
4.1🙂0.9
Man, I have to agree with Patrick Martin.
It’s painfully obvious that this is a film driven by pure, unadulterated cinematic obsession.
Admittedly, there are stretches where it feels bloated and aimless.
Still, my affection for Guillermo del Toro and his relentless passion is such that I can't bring myself to rate it any lower than a 3.5 or a 4.
northerncrane4 said:I caught an interview a while back with a director of photography who mentioned that after Mr. Fox, the CIA doesn't even bother with traditional storyboards for their live-action projects; instead, they shoot the entire thing in rough claymation first, then film the actual actors to ensure every frame mimics that clay aesthetic as closely as possible.
It actually makes sense when you think about it, doesn't it? Setting those scenes in stone before anything happens—isn't it far simpler to sculpt a figurine than to struggle with a drawing?
I haven't decided yet, though I feel a certain pull toward giving this another fresh viewing, something that hasn't happened in quite some time. So, I suppose I am rather satisfied, in my own way.
Wes decided to take a swing at his own penchant for stylistic excess, which serves as a rather obvious example of his signature flair.
The film is fine, I suppose—visually striking enough—but isn't his animated work still his crowning achievement? Is there any point in even debating which animal he captures best?
Thomas Hayes said:Silvio is easily the most intense character in the whole series. He’s smart, cold-blooded, and completely loyal to Tony. A perfect right-hand man—he could have been the lead if he had actually wanted that. Paulie, on the other hand, just can't help making a mess of things, from that unnecessary hit on Russ to leaking info to the crew back in New York.
If Paulie weren't such an idiot, wouldn't we have seen that flawless episode involving Russ and the woods? Therefore, my vote still goes to him over Silvio.
casualsailor55 said:It’s a decent enough movie, though I can't help but feel it's fundamentally flawed by its narrative structure; it remains miles away from the grit of a street-level Millionaire, lacking both the tension and those raw, visceral scenes that defined the original work.
Millionaire is nothing more than a pale imitation when compared to the Tiger.
The 1968 revolution essentially carved out the shape of our modern world. Does the film imply everything in America prior to 1968 was inherently negative, or is the perspective somewhat more balanced?
It portrays that famous courtroom drama exactly as it unfolded—granted, with a certain sympathy for the defendants. But isn't that just how it actually happened? People weren't given adequate counsel, they were restrained and quite literally gagged in the courtroom, and arrested even when it was clear their involvement in those events was negligible. Everything about that trial is public record, so I fail to see the point in asking you such a thing.
hollowowl15 said:Exactly so; it was captured quite brilliantly, wouldn't you agree? As for the narrative itself, isn't it just typical Aaron Sorkin? Aaron SorkinIt always seems to come down to that same emotional payoff, doesn't it? Whether they're humiliating some religious zealot or, in this instance, a judge acting as a puppet for the regime, the whole thing feels less like cinema and more like one of those "get rekt" compilations you find on YouTube. 😁 Wouldn't it be something if Aaron Sorkin made a quick cameo, perhaps just a fleeting glimpse through the interior side of that cafe window? 😁
Is there anything particularly wrong with a bit of typical Sorkin? It’s certainly an acceptable way to spend an afternoon.
That scene where they face off through the cafe window—it’s a genuine stroke of brilliance, isn't it? Honestly, if you look closely, the film is peppered with those little flashes of pure genius.
To be honest, my only real grievance was with the judge; I just couldn't quite get Robert Langella to fully inhabit the role.
It’s been quite some time since I’ve sat through a film this old-fashioned, isn't it? The strength lies entirely in the narrative and the performances. While there will undoubtedly be those who take issue with the plot itself, one cannot deny that the film is masterfully crafted from start to finish, and even the sentimentalism at the end doesn't feel forced. Does one really need to be an expert on the subject matter to appreciate the artistry here? Not at all.
Aaron Sorkin certainly knows how to write, and he certainly knows how to direct.
It’s hard to find a more profound study of human madness than Aguirre, though if you ask Kinski, a younger Douglas in 'day of madness' is nothing more than a child. I honestly fail to see why I even attempted to compare the two films in the first place. And frankly, it makes my skin crawl when modern generations insist on viewing Werner Herzog solely through the lens of a documentarian. Aguirre, the Fitzcarraldo scene sailing into New Orleans alongside the Belinijev puritanac, Wagner in Nosferatu, Kaspar Hauser.... Stipetić is a genius.
Dennis Hall41 said:I posted a question on the Recommendations board, but I figured I’d ask here too—is there anyone else out there who loves Cimin's gates of heaven?
I sat down with it last night, roughly twenty years after my initial foray into cinema, and I found it even more profound than my memory suggested.
Scanning the reviews, I see people nitpicking every detail, but how can one maintain any semblance of critical distance when the sheer force of the direction, the acting, and the cinematography pulls you so deeply into the frame? Truly, why does it face such disdain? Is it not, following The Godfather, one of the most powerful epic films ever made?
It isn't hated, per se; it was simply one of the first major cinematic flops, and that is how it became etched in the collective consciousness. That said, the pacing is undeniably bloated, and I could never quite bring myself to tolerate Walken's face, no matter where it appeared on screen.
