Mark Cruz15 said:Have you ever actually attempted to leap from a Speed traveling at 93 miles/h onto a thin layer of snow in the middle of the wilderness, knowing you'd have to trek for hours just to reach the nearest town?
They were facing certain death if they stayed on that train. It stands to reason that taking such a risk was their only logical option. Besides, they weren't always isolated in the backcountry; they passed through areas where people actually lived.
The character design is certainly striking, but I find myself wondering why she doesn't just leap out instead of standing there paralyzed by fear, waiting for the end. Given that there is snow covering the ground outside, a jump would actually be quite safe.
But seriously, why on earth don't they just jump off the Speed? It’s a decent enough movie, I suppose, but really, it doesn't amount to much more than that.
I finally sat down to watch The Queen of the Desert, and honestly? It was forgettable. While there’s no question that Werner Herzog is the real deal, I completely agree regarding that lack of emotional connection. My biggest struggle with his work is that I can never quite pin down a definitive "character" to his films. They don't feel like the artistic, experimental pieces you see from someone like Terrence Malick, yet they aren't exactly classic dramas either. They aren't pure adventures, nor are they traditional historical epics. He seems to take a little bit of everything and throw it into the mix, which is exactly what frustrates me. I just can't seem to get a firm grip on his cinematic identity. Perhaps that's precisely why people gravitate toward him—that unpredictability sets him apart—but for me, it just leaves me feeling like nothing is quite concrete.
I had no idea he went on to film as many as six more movies after that period. He really is such a fascinating individual; there are endless anecdotes from his sets, especially regarding > and >—from the time he actually swiped a camera just to ensure he could keep filming, to the sheer madness of hauling that boat through the jungle, not to mention those legendary temper tantrums from >. Then there were the constant budget constraints that forced him to get incredibly creative with his methods. To be perfectly honest, though, I don't find his films themselves to be particularly gripping or standout works. He even remarked once that certain productions were actually more interesting than the finished movies. That said, > was a huge admirer of his work. In fact, he even placed > on his list of the top ten greatest films of all time.
Greetings, fellow forum members! I noticed we haven't engaged in much discussion about him here, so I thought it would be only right to start the conversation. You might find this interesting, but I am opening this thread for a filmmaker whom I personally consider to be somewhat overrated; in truth, it is quite rare for me to find one of his feature films that truly resonates with me. Last night, I sat down for the first time to watch his 1999 documentary, My Best Enemy, which explores his volatile relationship with the controversial actor Klaus Kinski.
To be perfectly honest, I found the documentary far more compelling than any of his scripted works. Even though I was already somewhat familiar with the history behind it, watching the film allowed me to conclude that Werner Herzog is a significantly more fascinating individual than he is as a director or screenwriter. As it happens, if I am not mistaken, his film Queen of the Desert is airing tonight on HBO, so I plan to tune in. I am curious to hear your thoughts on Werner Herzog—do you believe his reputation is inflated, and in your estimation, which of his films stands as his finest achievement?
I find myself in complete agreement; I truly enjoy this film and would go so far as to argue that it’s actually quite underrated. Of course, one can certainly point out certain logical inconsistencies, moments of naivety, or plot holes—as is often the case with any movie in this genre—but there is no denying its tension and palpable atmosphere. Personally, I am quite fond of how it pays homage to those classic road movies from the 70s and 80s, and it honestly feels like a shame that we don't see films like this produced more frequently. Even the character development is quite solid, and the actors have delivered performances that are more than merely competent.
What strikes me most about this film is how its themes remain so incredibly relevant, despite being such a classic. It captures that universal sense of drifting through life, stuck in a monotonous grind where you feel there’s no real room for advancement or any tangible sense of achievement. You go through the motions, assuming you’ll eventually reach a peaceful old age, never once considering that some sudden, fatal illness might cut everything short long before you hit eighty. Even your own children seem more concerned about you becoming a burden than actually understanding the weight of your struggles. It’s only when you’re suddenly faced with the reality of your own mortality that you finally start to truly value the life you've lived.
What a great movie. Honestly, it’s about time someone finally poked some fun at those left-liberal types; it feels like they're always the ones being targeted by conservatives and right-wingers. I really appreciated how the humor felt so effortless and laid-back rather than forced.
ruggedjackal46 said:I’ve always had a bit of a bone to pick with those historical dramas that try to romanticize courtly life—they feel so fake. That’s why I actually find myself looking forward to films like this one, which portray the royal court as something grotesque and morbid. Honestly, that’s probably how it actually felt back then. With Lanthimos, what’s really fascinating is how he conveys that vibe not just through the characters, but through those unsettling shots and tiny details, like the jarring makeup or those bizarre, awkward dances. If I have one gripe, though, it’s that Lanthimos is so deadly serious and pretentious about his weirdness; it’s like he’s terrified of accidentally being funny. Personally, I think a sense of humor is vital when you’re taking such an unconventional approach. It doesn't need to be a dark comedy, but every moment of levity in this film was top-tier. It’s a shame it wasn't a little more relaxed so we could have seen more of that.
The dynamic between the three female leads is spot on. What looks like "female jealousy" on the surface is actually driven by a desperate need for compensation due to deep-seated trauma—it's pure survival instinct. All three actresses are incredible, especially Olivia Colman. There’s that one scene during the dance where her expression shifts so suddenly it practically gives you chills. Also, this marks my first time actually enjoying a performance from Emma Stone; she usually rubs me the wrong way.
Fun fact : Rachel Weisz is actually older than Olivia Colman.
The film serves as an excellent parody of those over-romanticized, quasi-historical melodramas that bear little resemblance to actual history or genuine drama, opting instead for cheap soap opera thrills.
I just finished watching Carpenter's "Don't Torture the Innocent." It’s actually a solid film, though I wouldn't call it a horror flick, let alone a giallo; it feels much more like a gritty social thriller or a heavy drama.
Just as I was discussing > in a previous thread, I feel this particular topic certainly warrants more discussion than its predecessor. It was only a few years ago that I truly began exploring the landscape of American horror cinema. Before that, I had no inkling that there once existed such a sprawling and profoundly influential era of horror filmmaking. Since I generally consider the horror genre to be among the least sophisticated forms of cinema, I cannot claim to be an enthusiast, though I can certainly offer a positive assessment. Alfred Hitchcock is, if I may venture to say, the most significant and influential figure in the history of the genre. He mastered nearly every subgenre imaginable and paved the way for all those who followed in his footsteps. Wes Craven is perhaps the most mainstream of the bunch. My struggle with Craven’s work is that almost all of his films possess a brilliant opening, only to gradually lose momentum and sink into mediocrity, or even worse. The prime example is his most famous work, >. It features arguably the greatest opening in horror history, yet by the end, you realize it is essentially just an average horror flick. In my view, his best film is >; the decline in quality there is minimal. I also found his earliest efforts to be quite strong. After >, he struggled to produce anything even remotely decent, despite a few films that showed early promise. I haven't seen any works by Fulci yet, though I have heard they are considered the worst of the lot. I am thinking about diving into his filmography soon. Does anyone think it is worth the time?
Kimberly Jackson8 said:The problem is, compared to "Cannibal Holocaust," "The Green Inferno" just feels like some cheap, low-budget parody. It’s one of those movies where you finish it and immediately regret ever wasting your life watching it. Eli Roth hasn't really made anything worth paying attention to since that first "Hostel" flick.
Interestingly enough, I actually found The Green Inferno to be the one thing Roth did that was actually worth watching. The film caught me quite by surprise, especially considering his track record as a director.
Wow, eleven years have passed and there hasn't been a single word about this movie on the forum. What can I say? Personally, I think the film is decent, but nothing more than that. The standout feature is undoubtedly how visceral and convincing the violence feels. It was shot on a shoestring budget with low-end production values nearly forty years ago, and that sense of realism is something that absolutely deserves credit; modern high-budget Hollywood horror movies often fail to capture even a fraction of that intensity. As for the underlying message or any supposed "deeper" meaning—well, that’s where things get pretty ridiculous. Deodato claimed he made this film to critique how the media hungers for violence. Okay, fine... but consider the plot: the guy searching for the lost expedition finds the footage and ends up fighting against the very TV network that sent the journalists there in the first place, all to prevent them from broadcasting those tapes. On those recordings, you see journalists committing atrocities against the natives. Seriously? What kind of TV network would actually air footage showing their own reporters massacring an indigenous tribe? It’s a massive logical leap that the movie really didn't need to make. In my opinion, Cannibal Ferox and The Green Inferno actually make much more sense regarding this theme, as they deal with naive, wide-eyed idealists. In fact, I feel The Green Inferno has a much stronger thematic connection to this film than Cannibal Holocaust does.
