Well, considering how much Fight Club flopped at the box office, choosing Panic Room seemed like the only logical move for the studio. Though, if I’m being honest, I don't think that turned out to be such a massive success either. There are certainly a few inventive touches within the film—even by Hollywood standards—but beyond those specific elements, that's really about all there is to say regarding Panic Room.
The concept behind The Matrix is actually quite fascinating. However, I can't help but feel that The Matrix Revolutions leans a bit too heavily into being flashy and overproduced.
Honestly, if you're looking for something truly compelling, why not give "Equilibrium" a watch?
It is a truly remarkable piece of cinema. To transition the tone from a dark comedy into such a poignant coming-of-age drama was handled with such grace; one must admit, that level of nuance is pure artistry.
Has anyone here had the opportunity to watch > or >?
I find myself genuinely puzzled by why American audiences didn't embrace *28 Days Later*. It feels as though the core message was largely missed. In truth, it is difficult to grasp the film unless you view it strictly through the lens of horror—especially within a culture as self-centered as ours here in the States.
The reason this movie resonated so deeply in the West is due to its spirit and its impeccable timing. When the protagonist stands before that wall in New York City, surrounded by a sea of flyers searching for the missing, it serves as a visceral association with 9/11. In that sense, *28 Days Later* was actually the first film to truly capture the post-9/11 world. That is why it hit home in the West as a horror story about threats bleeding out from the real world—things like Anthrax, the war in Iraq, 9/11, and the constant looming shadow of biological and enemy terrorism... The average American doesn't dwell on these connections because they don't feel directly threatened by them, distracted as they are by their own daily, fundamental existential struggles...
To be fair, the film isn't without its flaws; it could have driven its point home and concluded much earlier, as that entire dreamlike sequence in the castle felt somewhat overindulgent and calculated.
However, the atmosphere is absolutely fantastic (particularly during that opening half hour), and the cinematography is nothing short of phenomenal. To watch the work of Anthony Dodd Mantle—arguably one of the greatest cinematographers alive, given his work on "Celebration" and "Dancer in the Dark"—is a masterclass. He managed to turn every technical limitation into a stylistic strength, from the shallow depth of field (which he uses beautifully to play with reflections) to the gritty, amateurish shutter speeds characteristic of consumer-grade cameras...
mirrorball said:...they have finally placed the Englishmen and their fellow islanders under quarantine😁 😁 ...so you can all just tear each other apart and descend into chaos...
It seems quite obvious that they were targeting the French market instead.
"Pi" is the kind of cinematic work that will likely serve as a quintessential textbook example twenty or thirty years from now; it perfectly captures that specific late-nineties zeitgeist, ranging from the sonic landscape—filled with such excellent electronic compositions—to that pervasive "end of days" atmosphere characteristic of the turn of the millennium, all while weaving in the complexities of chaos theory...
I could never bring myself to agree that "Boogie Nights" is pretentious... perhaps it is ambitious, certainly, but it isn't hiding behind its own ego. In any case, it stands as one of the finest films of the nineties. Paul Thomas Anderson is truly a master of his craft. It is such a complexly told story, isn't it? The way he weaves together parallel storylines and utilizes those significant cuts... I don't have the energy to dive into it right now, but I feel as though I could discuss "Boogie Nights" for days on end. "Magnolia" feels pretentious to me. "Shortcuts" is incomparably better...
But "Punch-Drunk Love" — it has been quite some time since I have seen a film so inventive.
With Paul Thomas Anderson, there is no bullshit. He doesn't use aesthetic flourishes to mask flaws or rely on cheap tricks (unlike what we sometimes see with Lars von Trier, though I still maintain that Lars von Trier is a phenomenal auteur)... To take the Technicolor backdrop of classic American cinema and use it to tell a modern American story, suspended somewhere between a fairy tale and reality... it is quite beautiful.
The way he employs lens flare is fascinating; he takes a mere lens imperfection and transforms it into a creative choice, an aesthetic statement, and even a reward for the narrative itself... And consider his use of color, specifically blue, and color in general. His use of extras to achieve visual dynamism is phenomenal (think of the scene at the podium in Hawaii — and especially that scene in the Hawaiian hotel, where Adam Sandler and Sherlock Holmes meet as mere silhouettes...)
Once again, Paul Thomas Anderson has reintroduced natural light and the careful observation of natural light back into American filmmaking... he takes those tiny imperfections and turns them into a distinct advantage.
He uses Time so brilliantly (especially the opening of the film)... it isn't necessary for constant action to occur, as is typical in a standard Hollywood blockbuster; life is often found in the small things...
In the end, it is such a simple story (if I were to simplify it to the extreme: "a lonely guy meets a girl"), yet he managed to say so much about America at this specific moment in time. It is quite unlike "Magnolia"...
I haven't had the chance to watch Eternity and a Day yet. 😢
Richard Hernandez13—I had no idea that madman blew through... 20 million dollars???? Well, let it be.
Days of Heaven? How many, oh, how many years did it take to film? Just chasing that magic hour... 🙂 I mean, who wouldn't want those kinds of working conditions? 🙂
driftingowl27 said:Could you please verify the AC count, if you haven't already done so? 😉 Is there anything more fascinating than witnessing the technical evolution of cinema through the eyes of its masters? I find myself returning to that particular moment where Ron explains the sheer complexity of filming Baraka on 70mm film. It isn't merely about the scale of the image, but the ingenuity required to capture it. He goes on to describe how he actually engineered a portable, computer-controlled Dolly to achieve those specific movements. One has to wonder, in an era of digital convenience, if we will ever again see such a profound marriage of mechanical engineering and pure visual artistry? 🙂
Is it possible that Ronny has finally lost his grip on reality? One cannot help but wonder if he has descended into a state of complete and utter madness.
I found myself reflecting once more on the work of Ellen Kuras, that remarkable female cinematographer whose eye has shaped such significant imagery, most notably through her collaboration on Personal Velocity and various films directed by Spike Lee. Is it not fascinating how a single visual perspective can define the very soul of a director's vision?
By any chance, does anyone recall who was responsible for the cinematography on that Antonio film?
Darius Khondji’s nearly monochromatic cinematography is simply breathtaking... the way he handles light... in Seven... one can clearly see that he has studied Caravaggio and those other masters of chiaroscuro... it is truly impressive.
When considering Theo Angelopoulos's *Ulysses Gaza*, one cannot help but wonder: who was responsible for the cinematography? It is truly staggering...
I found myself reflecting on yet another film today, prompted by the ongoing discussions regarding Jeff Wall. I couldn't help but think of the Swedish masterpiece *Songs from the Second Floor*. Is there anything quite as arresting as its structure? Every single scene is composed as a static shot—with that one singular, haunting exception of a dolly out—creating a sense of profound stillness. It feels as though the sensibilities of Jeff Wall and Andreas Gursky have been seamlessly fused into a single cinematic vision. It is truly breathtaking, isn't it?
Robert Cooper41 said:... there is also the exceptional work coming out of Asia, specifically the cinematography by Christopher Doyle (Hero, In the Mood for Love, Happy Together, Temptress Moon, Chungking Express ...) and Mark Lee Ping Bing (Springtime in a Small Town, Millennium Mambo, Vertical Ray of the Sun...).
That is absolutely certain! I find it hard to believe I overlooked WKW, particularly the masterpiece that is "In the Mood for Love."
Now, my mind has also drifted toward Ron Fricke, who provided the breathtaking cinematography for "Koyaanisqatsi" and "Baraka"...
And one must not forget the incredibly powerful documentary photography found in "Bloody Sunday," which remains truly unparalleled...
"Titus," directed by Julie Taymor—it’s such a striking example of how much art direction can elevate cinematography when they work in perfect harmony. "The Ratcatcher," directed by Lynne Ramsay, though she later moved on to that mess known as "Morvern Callar." "Sátántangó" by our neighbor Béla Tarr. The First Scene of "Amistad." Darren Aronofsky's "Pi"—it's fascinating how the cinematographer, Theo Angelopoulos, managed to perform actual miracles using Tri-X despite the incredibly tight budget. "Celebration" by D. Mantle; arguably the most beautiful use of digital video ever captured on film. "Full Frontal" by Steven Soderbergh. It is truly remarkable how far one can go in an attempt to sabotage the digital format... it almost looks like Super 8 footage that sat out in the sun for years without being developed.
Moving on to the older classics...
"I am Cuba"—the black and white photography is simply breathtaking, dominated by those sweeping dolly shots from the late fifties. "The Battle of Algiers," which features absolutely incredible documentary-style cinematography. "Stalker" and "Nostalgia." "Fanny and Alexander." "Pierrot le Fou." "The Element of Crime"—it feels as though Lars von Trier is attempting to strip away the influence of Tarkovsky.
I will add more to this list once they come back to me...
That Western should be filmed right here in the States, perhaps out in Texas or maybe even Montana! A true American frontier Western—something to serve as a gritty counterpoint to those classic Spaghetti Westerns...
Wait, hold on, that idea has actually piqued my curiosity...
I share your appreciation for storyboards, though I have observed that some filmmakers find it more intuitive to work directly from a shooting script or a comprehensive shot list. However, if I may offer a suggestion, I would most highly recommend utilizing video storyboards. There is a certain elegance in filming everything on a simple consumer mini DV camera—or perhaps even an old Hi-8 if that is what you prefer. By doing this, you gain an exact understanding of the shots you intend to capture, the specific compositions you require, and even a general sense of the lighting; ultimately, this serves to significantly reduce your expenditures when working with 35mm film.
It is also quite prudent to conduct at least one pre-light session at the location, particularly if you intend to handle the lighting for certain scenes yourself. By setting aside a single day, you can check with the equipment house for all the lights you might possibly need and experiment with various combinations. Once you have documented these findings thoroughly, everything will flow much more seamlessly on the first day of principal photography.
Furthermore, I still insist on conducting tests prior to the actual shoot. This means testing the camera and the film stock—if possible, testing one stop above, 1.5 stops above, and then below. If you manage to acquire any film remnants, do test several different film stocks. If the opportunity arises, develop those thirty meters or so (you certainly won't need more for a test) and visit a lab to see what additional corrections might be necessary during the transfer process. Such a test provides a wonderful opportunity to experiment with your lighting setups as well.
Ensure you hire enough crew members to assist you, yet refrain from overstaffing. It is essential that your DP has an assistant to handle reloading magazines, cleaning lenses, assisting with light metering and focus, and so on; I am certain you are already well aware of these requirements. After all, such matters are hardly a complex science.
One should also attach a video monitor to the 35mm camera.
Always remember to bring lens cleaner, microfiber cloths, markers, felt-tip pens for the clapperboard, gaffer's tape, a gray card (or even better, a Macbeth color chart), water, zip ties, a Polaroid or a digital camera for continuity, and an AC manual. Though, I suspect you likely already know all of this.
In the end, production is always subject to Murphy's Law, is it not?
All of this brings to mind a question once posed to Akira Kurosawa: They asked him why he chose such a particular, highly specific framing in one scene of "Kagemusha" (I can't quite recall the exact details of their inquiry). One might simply answer—Style. And then there is the matter of it being a 'period piece.' But in truth, wasn't that the only way to frame the shot without some massive "Sony" billboard looming in the background, tearing through the sky from a building right next to the highway?