electricgardener4 said:Everything about this movie looks perfect, but honestly? It was just boring—didn't click for me at all. 4/10.
I have to agree; the film just didn't click for me either, and I'd give it the exact same score. What really threw me off was how the audience is essentially "tricked" into experiencing his schizophrenia firsthand, forced to view his distorted reality as the absolute truth until that sudden realization hits near the end. Personally, I’ve always preferred a more traditional way of storytelling where you follow a clear narrative path, so this experimental approach of pulling the viewer directly into a fractured psyche just isn't my style.
Personally, I tend to lean toward an eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth approach. I wouldn't advise you to let anyone walk away with the upper hand by leaving them owed.
It has been quite some time since I last sat down to watch it, but my memory serves me well enough to recall how truly wonderful it was, especially given those stellar performances by Robert De Niro and Jeremy Irons.
To be perfectly honest, I didn't quite connect with the movie. While I’ve always been a huge fan of Gene and Susan, their performances just didn't seem to resonate with me this time around.
Jessica Morris6 said:I’ve got a bit of a dilemma on my hands. I'm looking for some input from someone who actually knows their way around cinema (Spoiler)... After those four guys take out that first hillbilly who raped them and make their break for the Kanawha River, Drewa (Ronny Cox) goes after the second toothless local. This guy holds some kind of high ground, just waiting for them to emerge from the brush... Ed (Jon Voight) ends up scaling that cliffside where they have their final confrontation, and he manages to kill him. But there’s a massive problem, because Ed is lying right there in front of him and the arrow... I honestly don't even know where to start with this one... it’s just one of those things that gets under my skin more than I care to admit, especially when you see how people react to certain archetypes in film. There's this specific type of character—that gritty, unpolished, rural American archetype—that people love to pick apart or mock, but they completely miss the nuance of what makes that persona actually work on screen. It isn't just about being loud or unrefined; it's about a very specific kind of survivalist grit that feels deeply rooted in the American landscape, whether we like to admit it or not... and yet, whenever someone tries to portray it authentically, the critics lose their minds. It’s exhausting, really, watching the constant back-and-forth over characters who are just trying to exist in a world that wasn't built for them... Take a guess. Now, am I just missing something here, or was the director simply too blinded by his own obsession to actually notice...
If you take a closer look, you'll see it's actually different. He wasn't struck from the back; the arrow hit him from the front and passed completely through his body, which is why most of it is protruding from the rear while a smaller portion remains at the entry point on the front. When he falls, you can clearly see exactly where the arrowhead ended up.
This was a fantastic comedy, honestly one of the best I've seen lately. The ending really stuck with me because of how it played out. There was that moment where they had the chance to connect with those girls from the bus when it pulled over next to them to ask for directions. I remember thinking to myself, "Here we go, this is going to wrap up with some kind of sweet, poetic payoff," assuming the plot would lead them toward a happy resolution. Instead, they missed their shot entirely, proving once and for all that they are arguably the most hilariously dim-witted duo ever put on screen. (Please don't take my comment about them being the "stupidest" the wrong way—in this case, it’s actually a huge compliment to both the filmmaking and the chemistry of the couple).
Mel Gibson is quite an underwhelming actor. He’s really only tolerable in Mad Max, where he doesn't have to rely on much dialogue to get his point across.
You simply cannot satisfy that specific hunger because that sensation isn't healthy. To move forward, you first have to "resolve" things with your childhood home. You need to come to terms with the reality that you didn't have any say in the matter. None of us have a choice when it comes to who our parents are. What you can actually do is accept things exactly as they are and learn how to carry that weight. The craving for affection you're feeling isn't a sustainable way to live. As a starting point for healing, it is vital that you acknowledge the issue exists rather than trying to deny it.
It was truly an excellent film. I distinctly remember rooting for Douglas during the first half, while I found myself absolutely loathing Turner. By the end, however, you realize she had her own underlying motivations for the war—and they certainly weren't innocent ones.
I caught a screening of Abraham Lincoln yesterday. I wouldn't go so far as to call it a stroke of pure genius, though it was certainly a solid piece of filmmaking. The acting was truly top-tier. To be honest, I can't help but feel the movie might have landed just as effectively if it had been shot in color.
There are certain aspects of your situation that simply don't align for me. You maintain that you love her deeply, that she fits perfectly into your life, and that you truly cannot imagine being without her. You also mention that she cares for you immensely and that you've shared eight years together. Yet, on the other hand, you describe these arguments as being so frequent and so volatile that you find yourselves constantly breaking up and reconciling, a cycle that is clearly taking a heavy toll on your ability to lead a stable, normal life. It strikes me as quite peculiar how these two realities can coexist, given how fundamentally they contradict one another. I can't help but suspect that the first part might be little more than an illusion, while the second part represents the harsh truth of your relationship. If you truly loved her and if she were truly right for you, your connection wouldn't be defined by constant reminders of stress, misery, heartache, and fear. In my view, it would be best if you both decided to go your separate ways and focus on building independent lives. Perhaps you should spend some time apart. After a year or two, you will have much more clarity as to whether you feel more fulfilled living solo or if you actually feel worse off without the partnership.
I find myself in complete agreement that engaging in these heated debates is rarely productive so, what is our best course of action then? If you ask me... I’ve found that a healthy dose of old-fashioned sarcasm usually does the trick, and after that, we can just let them believe whatever they want to believe
It feels as though sam Peckinpah was perhaps taking a bit of a "breather" while directing this particular film. Personally, I found the soundtrack to be absolutely superb.
By framing the question this way, you haven't really left much room for a nuanced discussion. It feels a bit binary, as if we're forced to choose between one extreme or the other. Personally, I’d argue that neither option truly captures the reality of things. For instance, I haven't checked off every single goal I've set for myself in my life just yet. Does that automatically make me an unhappy person? On the flip side, I certainly deal with my fair share of setbacks and frustrations, and I wouldn't say I'm someone who can simply settle for the bare minimum all the time. Does that mean I'm miserable, too? Not necessarily. I consider myself a fortunate individual. Why do I feel that way? I could go on at great length about it, but to put it simply, it's because I am healthy—well, relatively speaking, at least—and I find genuine contentment in what I already possess.
Adam Kern2 said:Someone actually told me today that they don’t believe in anything anymore—just totally disillusioned with life, people, God, everyone around them... I honestly wasn't sure how to respond at the moment, and to be fair, I still am a little bit stuck on it.
What do you all think—is it actually possible to live without believing in anything at all?
Can someone really function like that? And if not, what’s the way back to finding faith again?
I don't believe it's possible to hold onto nothing at all. Even if everything else falls away, we can all say with absolute certainty that the sun will rise tomorrow.
Ronald Jones said:I have a question regarding the topic in the title.
To illustrate my point, let me offer a few examples.
a) Suppose we attend a social gathering where, naturally, one is expected to drink something. What is the purpose of this, truly, if I am already aware that I don't enjoy it? In fact, I find the very notion of being obligated quite distasteful. Why is it that people succumb to this pressure, have a few drinks, and then subsequently expect that individual to actually get intoxicated? 😳 🙄 It is quite the same situation with cigarettes. 😳 😳
b) Furthermore, why is there such an obligation to be in a relationship right now? Is there something inherently wrong with me if I am single? Am I supposed to simply abandon all my standards and settle for the very first person who happens to be somewhat attractive? 😳 🍿 Yet, I observe that a vast number of people simply give in to these societal expectations. ☕ ☕
People occasionally cave under social pressure, though I find it largely depends on which crowd you are with and the nature of that influence. Generally speaking, the stronger a person's sense of self and the more grounded their ego is, the less likely they are to compromise their principles. If someone doesn't typically drink and they attend a party where they decide to have one small drink, it doesn't necessarily mean they've surrendered to peer pressure... perhaps they simply saw it as a pleasant opportunity to unwind. At most gatherings, people tend to follow the grain—they have a drink and relax. As for dating, I haven't really encountered anyone seeking a partner solely because of social pressure. While it might happen, if that's the motivation, it truly is quite pathetic.
I honestly find myself at a loss for words when trying to praise this film... it has firmly established itself as one of my absolute favorites. I’ve sat through it more times than I care to admit, yet I know I could watch it again tomorrow and never feel bored for a single second. It is quite fascinating to observe the character dynamics here; Charles Bronson plays the hero, which was such a departure from his usual persona as the heavy or the villain. This particular role really propelled him into superstardom. On the other hand, you have Henry Fonda, who is essentially the eternal good guy of American cinema, playing the antagonist this time around.
Meg Ryan... she is quite frankly a disastrous actress. Her constant hand gestures, the exaggerated facial expressions, and all that restless fidgeting she's been doing for years has become incredibly grating to watch. I honestly can't wrap my head around why directors continue to cast her in roles.