by ·Comments Off on Litoral (2008, Raoul Ruiz)

Lost Ruiz miniseries, made between Klimt and Mysteries of Lisbon. Cortinez has been onboard the ship Lucerna all week without seeing any other crew members, they assemble and tell him their own (or each others’) ghost stories. “We’re here either to tell stories or to jump into the water.”

The captain grows horns whenever his wife has affairs, a sailor is set up with a woman who lives 70 years in his past. A demon sets a guy up in the business of selling dead men’s clothes. They might all be dead, or imaginary, or miniaturized on the toy boat of a rich man. “What you see in here, don’t remember it even in dreams.”

by ·Comments Off on Circumstantial Pleasures (2020, Lewis Klahr)

Often I have no idea what he’s going for, or what any of the objects are supposed to represent, but it’s always pleasing to watch the patterns shift, the items shuffle about and disappear. Section 2 features assorted world leaders and other shitheads, more rapid color shifts and wackier sounds.

3. some of the envelopes and mattresses and money rolls recur across sections. In this one the music is more concrete. I got nothing on theme or visuals, just lost myself in the images.
4. a very dreamy section, I fell right asleep and had to pick up the next day

5. live footage out the window of a Chinese train in Sept 2016, looking exactly like the footage I shot out the window of a Chinese train in June 2019
6. The most varied and coolest section visually, or do I think that because it’s synced to a Scott Walker Bish Bosch song?

by ·Comments Off on Bringing Out The Dead (1999, Martin Scorsese)

Not sure if it was worth two whole hours just to see Ving Rhames revive I.B. Bangin’ (played by Paul Simon’s son, who exec-produced Pavements), but the movie also has other pleasures.

Mary Beth Hurt is the nurse who debriefs the patients, asking why they deserve help.
Hospital security guard Griss, who wears sunglasses and third-persons himself, has been in everything from Sankofa to the worst(?) Terminator sequel. The Wire‘s Kima and Omar get a minute of screen time each before they’re killed.

Cage and Arquette are both sleepwalking addicts, wearily observing the chaos of the city, until he takes decisive action by mercy-killing her life-supported dad. Cage’s haunting by a girl he couldn’t save is achieved by some Scorpion King-caliber CG face replacement. The dealer who gets fence-impaled was a Sunshine spaceman and the manic suicidal neighbor who Tom Sizemore maybe murders is pop star/NFL owner Marc Anthony.

by ·Comments Off on Shanghai Blues (1984, Tsui Hark)

Tuba guy (Kenny Bee of some early Hou movies) barely meets short-haired Shu (Sylvia Chang of some early Edward Yang movies) under a bridge when the war started, now trying to meet her at war’s end as planned. They each get pickpocketed and rip off pedicab drivers, identities and intentions are mistaken, it works out.

An atrociously dubbed comedy. After buying the Once Upon a Time box set and watching some twenty Tsui Hark movies, it cracks me up that this is the one that’s universally loved by the letterboxders I follow. Them: “just pure joy and beauty at every turn” … “A work of pure balletic grace, and a reminder that Hong Kong’s romcoms are every bit as ahead of the pack as their action movies.” Only Dave Kehr makes sense: “Hark’s colors have the almost startling intensity of old Technicolor; combined with his stroboscopic cutting, they make the film seem to fizz and sparkle on the screen.”

Pure joy and beauty?

by ·Comments Off on Paul (2025, Denis Côté)

Told K this isn’t a doc when she asked, but it turns out all of Paul’s social media stuff is real, oops. Paul’s in his oversharing era with public video diaries and Q&As with followers. The #1 thing I like about the movie is the record-crackle sound on certain edits.

by ·Comments Off on Histoire d’Adèle H. (1975, Francois Truffaut)

Obviously watched this in tribute to my own Adele H., but the two Adeles wouldn’t seem to have much in common.

Isabelle Adjani travels to Halifax from France during the American Civil War to stalk her ex Lt. Pinson (Withnail & I director Bruce Robinson), telling everyone different stories about who he is, lost in love with a loser gambler who doesn’t respect her at all. She takes to trying to ruin his life, bribery, hypnotism, hiding her belatedly-revealed identity as the daughter of Victor Hugo or using it as suits her needs, until she ends up getting rescued from her doomed quest and gets locked in an asylum for the next sixty years.

Reminded me of the Sternberg/Dietrich Morocco – before indie rock was invented people didn’t know how to process these feelings. Adjani is gorgeous, of course, and the movie often looks nice, but it doesn’t make a strong case for itself with the monotonous story and inelegant editing.

Dreaming of drowning:

Isabelle gone Barbados:

by ·Comments Off on Poison (1991, Todd Haynes)

Seven year-old Richie Beacon shot his dad then flew off the balcony, filmed in color news-reportage style, the picture stretched out horizontally.

Nancy Olson interrupts Dr. Graves, who then ingests pure, distilled sex-drive potion and becomes the leper sex killer, in 1950s b/w.

A thief goes to jail for the umpteenth time, meets old acquaintance Bolton. “I still could not take lightly the idea that people made love without me.”

Rosenbaum:

The most exciting moments in Poison are those that create a momentary confusion about which of Haynes’s three stories one happens to be watching — moments of vertigo during which two or more of the three stories seem to fuse (or, perhaps more to the point, “bleed” together).