Bernardo Bertolucci is easily the absolute worst trash this country has ever produced—if nothing else, it’s because of his garbage film "The Dreamers."
Kevin Ortiz6 said:I guess once we get used to Hollywood, Parajanov just feels boring, haha.
Listen, kid, first off—*Death in Venice* isn't really my thing. And Thomas Mann? He’s nowhere near the top tier of my favorite authors. As for Luchino Visconti, I much prefer his early neorealist stuff like *Obsession* or *La Terra Trema*; that later bourgeois decadence just doesn't resonate with me. Regarding Parajanov—his specific brand of cinematic lyricism simply didn't click for me. So, feel free to drop those assumptions about my film education. ☕
I have to admit, I actually drifted off halfway through watching this movie... 🙂 But look, there’s no denying he’s a brilliant visualist—honestly, he probably should have just stuck to photography full-time.
Honestly, I’d much rather deal with those old-school, high-energy "Hyper Hyper" style raves again instead of this current garbage filled with nothing but finger-pointing and nonsense.
Good grief, Ivan America isn't some techno rave enthusiast!
There are plenty of actually fun tracks in there... That genre is... alright, I guess. It's fine. But the absolute worst garbage out there has to be latin house.
Dana Anderson4 said:It’s a fantastic movie, and honestly, that soundtrack? Top tier. It’s been at least twenty years since I last sat down with it—ugh, I seriously need to track down a copy...
Classic American cinema from the eighties—back when that whole soft realism vibe was peaking—is easily one of my favorite eras of filmmaking. One of my absolute favorites has to be Forsyth's first film, "Great sink theft" 😍 which I caught on some lazy Sunday afternoon about, what, 20 years ago?...🧐
Have you checked out "The Singing Detective"? In my opinion, it’s hands down the best thing ever produced for television (well, a miniseries, technically).
Kenneth Martinez3 said:Man, I just live for their music It’s stuck on loop in my head—it’s like there's this constant internal nudge telling me I absolutely have to go listen to this track or that one...
Wait, hold on. Does music ever kind of... tell you to go do things? Like, give you those little prompts?
I’ve been off the grid without any damn internet for three days—what even is koji Inda pička NFMDSHIWUG - Atdi-Initiation? Screw you guys, Gall... and all the other saints. Honestly, part of me doesn't even want to know. Just pure male jealousy at this point.
Don't sweat it—my old man is from the South, but luckily he moved away while he was still young, so I don't have to deal with that irrational dialect too often👍
Frank Wright14 said:The path winds through deep valleys, heavy with dust Thirsty as the desert wind, moving slow and low The weight of a laborer's tool, hard as stone Racing against time, rushing through the heat
Sun-scorched fields under a heavy sky The rhythm of California strikes against the grain Through the thick brush, the cattle graze And they push onward toward the columns California, a legend etched in the dust
Righteous paths carved by steady hands The workers’ spirit meets the grind Hungry for purpose, driving through the grit California, a legend etched in the dust
What on earth is this language supposed to be?? It's like what happens when someone spends way too much time in the middle of nowhere 🙏 🙏