As I’m still in the throes of churning out my decade list - yes, that’s still happening - it’s cool to remember that magic like this exists. Seriously, none of his peers could have pulled this off as well as Crosby does here.
What a strong, strong January we had. Maybe even more so than the last two. At the very least, more vibrant that’s for sure. Here were my favourites. Longtime bests out of Dan Deacon (how fucking colourful is that cover art?) & Destroyer as well as Frances Quinland’s excellent debut, Tricot’s glorious onslaught and some phenomenal jazz out of Bohren & Der Club of Gore and Jeff Parker. But I think it’s Mac Miller’s heartbreaking new posthumous centrepiece that’s got everyone rightfully talking. Some the lines on this just hit like nothing else and of course, credit to the amazing Jon Brion for elevating it to a whole other leave. As far as this decade’s going, things are looking really good.
Plus the first round of Studio Ghibli films & Uncut Gems just dropped on Netflix, so there’s abundance to watch. And hear too, I mean how fucking cool is it that we’re getting a new Against All Logic album in less than a week’s time? Nicolas Jaar is the man! _________________ Well it’s finally here:
Yep. I’m totally aware that it’s all one and done for the year, don’t worry. I had every intention of getting this out a day before or even a day after but I’ve been so busy. I’ve had work for 9 days straight and my only day off was for my mate’s wedding, then it was back to 8 days on again. It’s been utter fucking shit stir but oh well! Please enjoy my findings, I actually did have some fun putting this together:
Surprise list! Don’t worry my decade one’s still it’s way. But for now, I found this one a whole lot more exciting to put together. It’s funny since I wanted to do a list for 2018’s season but never got around to it since I never felt I had the chops to “review” films. Then I did that marvel list, so go figure? You guys probably thinks all I watch, don’t you? Well... for the most part anyway, it’s not. 2019 was a pretty exceptional year for movies, all things considered. Unlike last year’s ceremony which I only felt like Yorgos Lanthimos’ The Favourite and Alfonso Cuáron’s masterful Roma we’re the only truly deserving entries in its round of Best Pictures. Don’t get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoyed Spike Lee’s BlacKkKlansman, Black Panther & Green Book but I couldn’t help but think that they could’ve benefit from that little something more. Especially when you have to go east for such jaw-dropping films like Burning, the ravishing Shoplifters and Hu Bo’s first and tragically only feature film, An Elephant Sitting Still. Oh and a fucking Spider-Man movie was somehow able to trump all of them in my eyes, but what’s the deal with that? No, 2019 was truly a return to form for the Academy, even if my opinion is drastically lower for the whole affair than it was when I was in high school. I think that echoes the consensus but for the sake of this list, let’s just say it’s me sharing my thoughts on my favourites out of the nominees this year, with some light awards talk sprinkled here and there. Because otherwise the purpose of this list would make no fucking sense. And admittedly, there’s about three films that won’t be making an appearance, unfortunately. Though I did really like those films too when I was watching. I feel especially sorry for my boy Taika. Then there’s the case of the snubs, which this year wasn’t too bad. I mean The Lighthouse didn’t get nominated for Best Picture - but will nonetheless be showing up since I love the shit out of it - and the stunning Portrait of a Lady on Fire didn’t receive any whatsoever which kind of shocked me because I thought it would’ve nabbed a international mention for sure. But of course, the big one everyone who cares is talking about is Adam Sandler’s outrageous turn toward good acting (I mean have they seen PTA’s Punch-Drunk Loveor what?) in the Safdie Brothers’ epic, Uncut Gems. Which, if I’m being honest, would slot nicely in my third place here, if it did in fact get the nod. But sadly, that didn’t happen. So, I think I’ve covered all I need to cover, let’s get on with it!
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Director: Quentin Tarantino
Screenplay: Quentin Tarantino
Purely as a Tarantino film, Once Upon A Time In Hollywood is a lot of fun. It’s the end of the sixties, drug culture is at all time high and you can see the dude’s running with it while having a big old smile printed along his face. But just generally as film, it’s a whale of a time. Yeah... I have mixed feelings about using that expression as well. Anyway, being a Tarantino fan today I feel like is about as commonplace as veganism. Nothing wrong with either (I mean I’m mostly a vegan at home since my sister pretty makes all the decisions in my household) but it’s getting really hard to separate your own thoughts from what the general populace thinks. I truly feel like every asshole’s favourite movie is Pulp Fiction and honestly I can’t dispute it with them because I can see where they’re coming from. It isn’t mine, as far as I can I tell, I just think it’s one of the best ever made. Quote me on that if you have any type of criticism, you know my door’s always metaphorically open. But with Once Upon A Time In Hollywood, the man’s thrown a bit of a spanner in the works, hasn’t he? With some minuscule uncertainty, I can say that this is Tarantino’s least action packed feature. For his 9th of an apparent 10 cinematic outings, Tarantino let’s his 1969 period setting and character’s - literally - do the talking. This film has such a focus on dialogue, even if it has a little do in the way of exposition, and I fucking love it. A lot of this screams like it was the kind of film he was born and always wanted to make. As well as it boasting one of the best performances (which is a word, regretfully, that I’m going to beat to death here. Rather like that girl against the mantle of the fireplace. Oop... spoiler, I guess) from Leonardo. I wholeheartedly believe it stands among the height of his almost 30-year career now. I mean that trailer scene, right? The guy’s acting out a scene in which he’s punishing himself for not being to fully remember his lines and the whole thing’s so meta, that it practically blurs the lines between fantasy and reality. The emotions in it, reaching such an exceptional fever pitch to be hold. Brad Pitt’s fairly solid too. In a many ways he’s just being himself - which I figure is my biggest critique on this side of things, since it’s nothing really new - but for once I actually founding myself rooting for him (which is a term I don’t use lightly since it means something totally different in my country) as he goes out of his way throughout the whole film to be just a stand up fucking friend to Rick Dalton. Regardless of whether he did in fact murder his wife or not. But it’s Margot Robbie’s nomination that I don’t really understand. I love her, she might be our best in the industry at the moment, and in 2017’s I, Tonya she absolutely killed it but here she gets, what? Like six lines? I don’t think that’s a qualifier for the big award. For the scenes she’s in she gave the film a healthy dose of heart and glamour, don’t get wrong. And I’m not among the masses that are digging their claws and saying shit like WeLl It’S sUpPoSeD tO bE aLl AbOuT hEr AnD tHe MaNsOn MuRdErS - just go and watch Inglorious Basterds for fuck’s sake - but I just think we could’ve used more. But when the utter brutality of those aforementioned murders come to head, you have to just laugh otherwise the whole thing just becomes absurdly macabre. Trust me, that’s for the absolute best too because I feel like it’s handled and sequenced so adeptly. Which, for the most, speaks to the whole film itself.
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Director: Greta Gerwig
Screenplay: Greta Gerwig/Sarah Polley
While not the most faithful adaptation the book’s ever received, Greta Gerwig’s Little Women is absolute gem to behold throughout its 134 minute runtime. It nails the dynamic between each and all of the sisters as well as Timothée Chalamet’s Laurie in such refreshingly playful and damn gorgeous. Which is funny considering that main gripe going in - that I internalised until now - would’ve been the fact that none of these actors could’ve even remotely passed as sisters to me. And subsequently I worried that this film was risking being more style over substance. But of course, and with an incredible sense of both relief and gratitude, that was proven so abundantly wrong. Through Gerwig’s excellent and seemingly unique sense of pacing through time manipulation - which she used to a near unimpeachable degree on her excellent debut vehicle, 2017’s Lady Bird - Greta tells the classic tale with a sense of unprecedented charm and vigour. While also being a visual delight from cinematography and right down to the costuming and sets. Seriously, she knows to milk all she needs from even the slightest bit of scenery like a tree or a white mound of snow. Because where Lady Bird attacked its mundane browns and greens of suburban Sacramento with a healthy dose of whimsy, Little Women is rightfully grandiose and infinitely more colourful from sweeping valleys of autumnal greens and browns that get so elegantly overpowered by the winter to the breathtaking artistry of the historical edifices and gardens of olden Paris to the gentrified but beautiful greys of New York as well (which also are a great feature of partner’s film, Marriage Story - that’ll also be showing up later on down this list). And this is all without mentioning the individual performances too. Saoirse Ronan soars as the independent and sometimes too headstrong Joe, Florence Pugh adds yet another fantastic notch to her belt (get it? It’s a wrestling joke because she was in that movie about the wrestler Paige. Isn’t he so funny?) with the often impulsive Amy longing for nothing more than to be rid of the shadow of her aforementioned sister and Emma Watson delivers probably career best (so far) with her turn as Meg. Meryl Steep is also reliably great as the shrew and over-critical aunt, Timothée Chalamet gets to excell as being dramatic and flirtatious in equal parts (even though you might end up hating him by the time the credits roll), Laura Dern, too, again hits the mark so right and hell - even if it’s a spoiler - it was quite a pleasant surprise seeing Bob Odenkirk as the father. But I feel like it’s Eliza Scanlen as Beth and Chris Cooper’s Mr. Laurence that receive a bit of a raw deal here. For what we get of them together and apart it’s pretty much bang on but for the ones they share, it’s some of the film’s best, especially for drama. And the way Chris Cooper goes about not entering the March house (OH COME ON! I’m sure you know the story by now) is the one moment that resonated with me the most. Then there’s that matter of the two way ending. As a creative decision, I thought it was astounding and just titanically good. Resulting in my favour imaging of the renowned, time-honoured story. Because in the end, Little Women is exactly everything you could want from a Period Drama while being something that feels so new entirely as well. And Lady Bird proved that Greta Gerwig was one of our most exciting new filmmakers but Little Women positions her now as one of the genre’s most exquisitely human storytellers now too. But, in spite of all of this, where’s that Best Director nomination you despicable fucks?!
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Director: Martin Scorsese
Screenplay: Steve Zaillian
Now in the lovely 5th place is the not so lovely but oh so brilliant, The Irishman which marks a great many things for all the name involved here. Behind the camera I feel like this is a great tale of redemption. For one, some people are calling this Scorsese’s best since GoodFellas and my reply to that would be to hand them a phone with The Departed on the other side of the line. Because still haven’t fucking decided which one I like better and I’m too afraid to find my answer at this point. But when I say “redemption” I mean for its big three actors. Let’s face it, when’s the last time you heard of De Niro or Pacino starring in something with this much praise, And hey! The other two movies they’re in on this list doesn’t count. Then there’s the curious case of Joe Pesci. I can’t even think of the last thing I even so much as saw him in. Casino? And that was before my lifetime. But, more to the point, it‘s a return to roots for Scorsese. At least that’s what everyone - myself included - is saying. But then there’s whole matter of how he’s approaching the gangster genre this time around, because it’s definitely not the same. With Irishman he tackles the thing he almost singlehandedly revolutionise and - not to mention - define again with a sense of total ingenuity. See, for its first two hours and half hours - give or take - the film is a biographical one of epic proportions. We’re talking Italian mobs, The Kennedys, unions, Castro, the whole works. It really paints a shady and complex picture of the titular Irishman, Frank Sheeran (played very subdued but quite expertly by De Niro. Though still not believable as Irish). But amongst all the grandiose multi-decade settings, dispassionate killings, frequent motherfuckers and cocksuckers, there’s the true narrative is told between the lines. Where most films use emotion as a vehicle to hammer their messages home, The Irishman opts for implication instead. But you already knew that, it’s a Scorsese project after all. Because as the movie rolls on, you get the sense that Frank Sheeran takes less and less pleasure in what he’s doing. It’s not even a question of wants for the guy, it’s just a series of a have-tos in order to survival. And when it all the things that he’s forced to do comes to head as the film so efficiently veers into a soberingly mundane look at old age in its final half an hour or so, you know that Sheeran is filled with regret but is to prideful to admit it. This results in - what I believe to be anyway - someone of De Niro’s best performances in a decade. I’m talking scenes like that gloriously unforgivable phone call to Hoffa’s wife, his inability to confess to the priest and later on, to the agents from the bureau. Even more immense is the idea that these are things that Scorsese is contemplating and ultimately, contending with right now as that final curtain draws closer. It’s almost as if he’s Frank Sheeran and he’s screaming on the inside trying to confess to its existentialism a little. But I could be completely off base here and I suppose we should just appreciate this for exactly what it is; A FUCKING HELL OF A FILM! With some amazing visual effects work. And even if it never saw the light of day, Scorsese would still be seen as one of the best to ever do it. Though The Irishman does go a long way in terms of cementing his utterly legendary legacy.
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Director: Todd Phillips
Screenplay: Todd Phillips/Scott Silver
It’s with only some doubt here that I can say straight away that Joaquin Phoenix’s performance is the best one to make appearance on this crummy list. Now the dude, as we all know, is no stranger to transforming for a role; from the absolute batshit in Paul Thomas Anderson’s brilliant 2012 film, The Master to the damn near life-like portrayal of Johnny Cash in 2005’s Walk The Line or how much he can do with the rather subdued Theodore Twombly in Spike Jonze’s Her. Oh and when he convinced the world that he’d lost his mind in his 2010 industry satire, I’m Still Here. But with Arthur Fleck it’s within the first minute of the goddamn movie that character’s whole struggle and ultimate trajectory is not just foreshadowed, but illustrated - and pretty perfectly I might add - by simply having Joaquin prepare himself for another of being an everyday street clown. It’s through a extremely encroaching profile, off to the right shot that you get to absorb every pour of Jaoquin’s face in the makeup as well as every spine-chilling emotion. It’s also proof that the actor, director and editor have a profound knowledge and understanding of exactly what the shot is here, what they want from it and most importantly, how the audience will react internally at the moment. Because I’ve already remarked how it’s utterly spine-chilling but it’s also a brilliant to pull you in by the collar and draw out some sense of sympathy for Arthur right off the bat. And if that isn’t effective, then the next scene’s sure to be the one to hammer home, literally and rather brutally. Now, I am quite aware of the many critiques this film generates. So much so, that’s probably an unpopular opinion having it over Scorsese’s The Irishman (in which he is involved in one of those controversies, but I’ll touch on that soon). And no, I’m not talking about how it’s being held up like a banner for “this is a society” memes and far, far worse, inspiration for shooters. I am in fact referring to individual but entirely separate ones. The first and easiest to address is the idea that this film is - in some not so small ways - a direct rip off of Martin Scorsese’s amazing 1982 piece, The King of Comedy. And for the most part, I agree. There are many parallels between the story of Arthur Fleck’s and that of Rupert Pupkin, I mean Arthur wants to a comedian too for fuck’s sake. But there’s enough subject and stylistic difference here, for me to overlook calling it an outward carbon copy. Then there’s the whole idea of its commentary on classist divides and how Bong Joon Ho’s Parasite does it so much better. And yeah... I can’t dispute that one whatsoever. Parasite is a fucking masterpiece from head to toe and I’ll do my best to extend on that later. But when it comes to Todd Philips’ Joker there isn’t a lot that I don’t love about it. The colouring, while dark and gritty since it’s exactly how Gotham City should look, has so much life breathed into by streetlights or the blues of billboards. If all future Batman associated projects don’t use this as a visual jumping off, I’ll be understandably pissed. The narrative and performances all top notch. Hildur Guðnadóttir outdoes even her spectacularly tension riddled work with HBO’s phenomenal Chernobyl series here on the soundtracking side. And the plot takes its own liberties and strides with the Joker property in this gloriously original take. Sure, it may be derivative but in a year with adapted screenplays like 1917 & Little Women also having the potential to take home Best Picture, Joker goes hell of a way etching our its own path. Which is something I find myself shocked to say considering this is quite a masterful feat coming from one of the minds behind The Hangover.
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Director: Noah Baumbach
Screenplay: Noah Baumbach
With his Netflix graduate feature, 2017’s The Meyerowitz Stories, Noah Baumbach felt like he was becoming a sort of Wes Anderson-ian caricature of himself to me. Which, if you know anything about the dude and his career trajectory, is about as much of a compliment as it is a criticism since how well their collaborations turn out. And I could never knock that film either, it boasts a stellar Adam Sandler performance (what?! Uncut Gems is not the only film he’s good in?!), like way he steals every scene he’s in with just facial tics is kind of marvellous to behold. Anyway, I think the thing that I find my most striking about Marriage Story is when you consider it against films of a very similar nature like Sofia Coppola’s Lost In Translation & Spike Jonze’s Her - and not just blatantly with The Meyerowitz Stories & 2014’s While We’re Young. Where both Coppola’s & Jonze’s are superlative examinations of the dissolution of the pair’s relationship that just oozes style right off the screen too, the only focal point we have into each director’s version of the narrative is entirely their own. And you see, the strongest case I and anyone else can make for Noah Baumbach’s Marriage Story is that it refuses to take sides. Throughout all its many twists, turns and immovable roadblocks in Charlie & Nicole’s divorce, you never get the sense that Baumbach is trying to position you a certain way as retells his own experiences. Oh yeah... Misleading title, hey? So yeah, this is in fact... “a divorce story”. And guess what? Scarlett Johansson and Adam Driver Knick it out of the fucking park! Especially at the most emotional visceral moments. Like the argument for instance, which for some sacrilegious fucking reason I see getting made into meme format. I feel like - more than the film’s actual ending where its brought full circle with letters - is the true pay-off of the movie, it’s so gut wrenching and simultaneously grating to live through. Maybe I think that because watching my parents do the same shit, and to an arguably to a far more extensive degree, was basically my entire childhood. But aye! I’m sure we all see the 2000s as a bit of a headache, don’t we? I mean I could sit here all week trying to decipher how much of a psychological effect on me it had and why all the films I mentioned so far as well as others like The Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind & The Lobster are among my favourites but that’s not what we’re here for. Marriage Story is more than just a character study and subsequently a sum of its parts. From the outstanding performances even to its side-characters like Laura Dern’s right down to the breathtaking shots of sun-soaked L.A. & the rained on greys of New York (another one of his staples, also including cameos from Galaxie 500 & Luna’s Dean Wareham. Don’t worry, Baumbach, I see you!), Marriage Story goes beyond itself from its peers by being something new entirely. As well as Buambach’s finest and most magnificent work to date.
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Director: Robert Eggers
Screenplay: Robert Eggers/Max Eggers
Now I’ve been pretty quiet about the actual Oscars themselves, apart from the odd chance to slag them off, and that’s not going to change. Yes, even though it’s the very catalyst of this list, it’s not the main focus. You see, like my most people, I have a lot of problems with Academy and the decisions they continue to make, especially over the last few years. This year it’s the fact that Robert Egger’s masterful psychological horror, The Lighthouse, wasn’t nominated for any other category but cinematography. Like it’s mind-glowingly gorgeous in that department, having every shot framed as if it were hung in a gallery. And I get that it might be a bit too abstract for Best Picture, but it’s the performances from both Robert Pattinson and Willem Dafoe here mmmaaaaaannnn!Ok so, some of you might meet that statement with a sigh or at worst, some kind of revulsion for the words Robert and Pattinson. But if you can’t forget about Twilight, that’s on you dude. Because any idiot with a half brain who’s seen 2017’s Good Time (Oh yeah, those guys behind Uncut Gems have knack for this redemption kinda thing, huh?) will tell you that this Pattinson’s capable of killing it. And The Lighthouse proves that lightning can brake the bottle and strike twice. The film follows a rather innocuous journey of two lighthouse caretakers and all the tension that ensues which will always have you in a state of complete unease. Not much is known about either character throughout the film’s first act but what is their demeanours. You see both Pattinson’s Ephram Winslow and Dafoe’s Thomas Wake are stubborn as they are fickle but it’s the other side of that egotistical coin that also just as much separates them. Ephram is brooding and standoffish at first where Thomas is obnoxious, scolding and at times, manipulative. Top that off with Ephram desperate to know the mystery behind the light that’s held just out of reach from him like a forbidden fruit by Thomas, and there you have your nightmarish stakes. Seriously, it’s the dialogue here that really sells this thing behind the wonderfully eerie, black & white aesthetics. It’s among some of the best I’ve had the privilege of bearing witness to since There Will Be Blood - and so fucking champion that film in the highest regard - plus it couldn’t have been delivered better by anyone else. The utter range Pattinson & Dafoe show is almost unrivalled today, especially since every time the latter has to open his mouth it sounds like he’s about to burst into a sea shanty - but honestly I know Dafoe’s got this down pat by now, he’s been on an extraordinary streak between this, The Florida Project & At Eternity’s Gate lately. And when the dynamic is strength and simultaneously shifted up with the introduction of booze, there’s this divine push and pull of adversity and debaucherous whimsy between the pair that takes the whole thing up more than a few levels without you even so much as knowing about it. Oh and before I leave you with my final thoughts, let’s talk about that “aesthetic” I briefly mentioned before, shall we? I mean as soon as you see that first trailer you know this movie’s gonna be the absolute shit. The ratio, the decision to go black & white, the tormentingly outlandish visions that plague Ephram’s mind and again, JUST THE FACT THAT EVERY FUCKING SHOT IS STUNNING TO BEHOLD is pitch perfect. Couple all that with the sound of a grating mechanical horn being your lynchpin into Ephram’s glorious swan dive into madness and what you have is a masterpiece of modern horror. Truly. Theres not a single thing I don’t love to an unstable degree. And don’t get me started on the film’s final image. I honestly couldn’t think of a better way to cap this and bring it full circle, even though it’s not the kind you can be rid of easily.
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Director: Bong Joon Ho
Screenplay: Bong Joon Ho/Han Jin-Won It’s fucking Parasite! Of course it fucking is! I mean, what else was it going to be? It’s a 10/10 film, simple as that. It isn’t just a film that’s immaculate crafted either, every shot is meticulously architectured and woven together perfectly. Parasite is a film of astounding symbolism, like each line of dialogue is a subtle reference that will pay off greatly later or with repeat viewings and where certain objects are universally important. And throughout there’s this whole visual idea of elevation to establish the inherent and classist separation between the two families. Because, after all and if you weren’t already aware, that’s the crux of this narrative. Marry that kind of visual language with Joon Ho’s distinguishable knack for the way in which he uses rhythm to tell a story, and you truly do have the makings of a masterpiece in my books. Take that perfect montage that arrives about 40 minutes in, for instance - OH! THAT MOTHERFUCKING MONTAGE!. If you blink - in all honesty - you’ll miss it, that’s how fucking smooth the transitions are that we’re talking about here. Breataking slow-motion linear shots are used to call back to great works of the heist genre and Hitchcock (who’s face actually makes a cameo in a particular one), others that jump back and forward in time to show that both the Kims and Parks are now on an even playing field and to top it off, the whole thing sweeps on the balls of it like a ballet as it unfolds. Actually a similar thing can be said about the film in general too. It’s like an elaborately beautiful dance or a flawlessly performed big orchestra concerto for the modern day. And that ending is it’s melancholically hopeful final few notes. Look, for those of reading that have seen this film (if any of you would actually be reading this) I’m probably doing this masterpiece such a disservice but I really do want to play my cards close to my chest here for those that haven’t. Going in dark and blind is the best and only way you should approach this film. Not that it loses a second of its immense artistry or thrills if you do enter it knowing full well what happens, it’s just that when I first saw it there was a room full of people going through the same thing with me. We all screamed “what the fuck?” when the twists came and “holy fuck!” when everything came crashing down in that cinema. Because Bong takes some serious risks and they al pay off, trust me. So it’s best that I don’t reveal much, if anything at all. And when it does come crashing down, that’s when you get the greatest sense of that nigh on impossible divide between the Kims and Parks, with some of the most stunning shots every put to film. But maybe even more shocking to think about is the fact that neither one of the two families is blameless or to blame either. I mean you side with The Kims because they’re the underdogs and probably best emulate you but they’re underhanded and conniving. While the Parks can be naive, uptight, disapproving and downright codependent, they’re not entirely rich monsters. And instead what fills that is a study of the fundamental yet nuanced flaws of late capitalist society. Herein lies just one of the many strokes of genius this film blesses with. After all, it’s what this film is at its core; [i]genius. Plus masterminded by a man with a resume that boasts such unforgettable centrepieces like Memories of Murder & Mother, this stands as his absolute best. Proving that he was born to do nothing else but to be one of finest filmmakers and defying genre confines in the process. Not only that, I believe that this film is easily a frontrunner for the decade and all of time, for me anyway. That’s just how fucking serious I am about you seeing this film, if you haven’t already. This is the whole reason why I love art, the whole reason I feel like I continue to breath some days. It’s beyond a masterpiece and I don’t care how hyperbolic that is. And if Hollywood decides to shit out an insipid, unholy remake like they did with Oldboy, my tiny, already broken heart will tear even further.
Afterthought: I know my opinion doesn’t count toward much - especially given how I treat on a regular basis here - and I’m biased after all I’ve just finished saying but I think what happened at this year’s ceremony was of infinite importance. It’s so rare to see what seems like an entirely improbable actually happen and for it to be a force for good, but that’s what I think we can all mostly agree that Parasite winning Best Picture is this year. Filmmakers, actors, producers and all manner of crew that have to function together to make these superlative works of art possible have lived their lifetimes believing that a foreign film might not ever reached the heights Parasite now has. Many, sadly, never even got to see the day. So it’s fitting that all the pieces aligned as well as they did for something as groundbreaking as this film to win. I don’t if this will go anywhere or if international cinema will eventually be seen as equal to that of Britain or America, but it feels like a start. Even if it was a bid for the Academy to get even more people talking like they’ve been endeavouring haphazardly to over these past couple of years. Nonetheless, I feel so proud for Bong and everyone involved, with or without the win. _________________ Well it’s finally here:
So it looks like we are getting that American remake, bbbbuuuuuuttttt... it’s a HBO joint so I have faith. Plus Tilda Swinton (who’s a Bong veteran by now with Snowpiercer & Okja under her belt) and Mark Ruffalo are attached. The only thing that’s got me in the lurch a bit is the fact that Adam McKay’s directing. While I did quite enjoy The Big Short - and not so much Vice - this property has the potential for him to transform into something he can put his fingertips all over. Though I trust that it won’t go that way since Bong’s looking like he’s going to be overseeing the whole process. _________________ Well it’s finally here:
So after I force myself to finally finish my ‘10s list of albums and have it out by the end of next week, I think I want to do more movie related lists. I find them really fun and challenging at the same time because I have to find alternate ways of describing things (like not overusing the word “performance”). But if you guys want me to say my lane, let me know. _________________ Well it’s finally here:
First ”bad” album of the year I’ve heard thus far and at least RYM can’t say that I didn’t try (I mean I got halfway through before turning it off). Imagine if Metro Station made a comeback after hearing Orville Peck & These New Purtain’s new albums and obivously, they made that all sound... you know... not good. Like I guess moments like “Mikey’s Song” have ironic value but I don’t know who would laugh at them with me, much less who I would show. Kudos though if you’re experience differs. _________________ Well it’s finally here:
First ”bad” album of the year I’ve heard thus far and at least RYM can’t say that I didn’t try (I mean I got halfway through before turning it off). Imagine if Metro Station made a comeback after hearing Orville Peck & These New Purtain’s new albums and obivously, they made that all sound... you know... not good. Like I guess moments like “Mikey’s Song” have ironic value but I don’t know who would laugh at them with me, much less who I would show. Kudos though if you’re experience differs.
Wow. Fantano gave it the yellow flannel, so that’s weird.
Anyway, I’ve got current 4 lists coming down the pipeline, so look out for those I guess. I mean you definitely don’t have to . _________________ Well it’s finally here:
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