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harrisoncohen
Reviews
Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny (2023)
An entertaining ride of a cinema experience; or a mission too far for Indiana Jones?
Following-on from the huge disappointment of Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull (2008); I was skeptical fifteen years on that the Dial of Destiny could possibly fare any better. Despite my low expectations coming into the cinema, I left pleasantly surprised. The film certainly takes us on a ride of an adventure and is pure entertainment. Dial of Destiny fulfills its brief as a nostalgia trip for fans of the original series with nods and references to its four predecessors, and cameos (albeit some unnecessary; others wasted opportunities) to original cast members. The Dial of Destiny is nonetheless far from the quality of the original trilogy. Despite the plot twists and frenetic pacing and action-packed set pieces, there is very little here in the way of substance. Everything that Dial of Destiny sets out to say has simply been told better before with its high points mere characterisations and re-hashings from the original series. Perhaps with too many writers (the term, too many cooks comes to mind); the film at times feels like an anthology with too many ideas, and not enough of a story to come out. The film has simply too many secondary characters, location-hopping and action sequences to make for a coherent and compelling plot. The ending in particular is falls flat and serves as an anti-climatic conclusion to an otherwise entertaining film. That said, there is still much, or at the very least, enough to like here. Harrison Ford's final appearance as the titular character is both capable and believable, with the plot tailored to his age. The de-ageing sequences while flawed (in terms of the voice acting or dubbing) are well-executed. Mads Mikkelsen's villain is possibly the best performance, albeit at times a parody of previous villains and even villains from other films outside of the franchise. Phoebe Waller-Bridge's performance while capable, and certainly interesting, again appears confused - we are bogged down asking whether she is a heroine or a villain for much of the film. The supporting cast is unfortunately either unmemorable, caricaturish, or under-used (this is certainly true in the case of John Rhys-Davies). John Williams's score is enthralling and, hands down, the real highpoint of the film. In summary; while the Dial of Destiny is an entertaining ride of a cinema experience; many will leave asking whether this was a mission too far for Indiana Jones.
Muerte de un ciclista (1955)
Breaking the Rules - The Formation of a Unique Hybrid of Spanish Cinema
Breaking the Rules
Juan Antonio Bardem's Muerte de un ciclista (Death of a Cyclist)
The Formation of a Unique Hybrid of Spanish Cinema
1955. At the height of the cold war, almost twenty years under the Franco regime, Spain, a country fiercely divided by poverty and societal division prepares with the support of the United States, to enter into the United Nations. American investors arrive in Spain for the chance to buy into the developing Spanish economy. Meanwhile on a cold winter's day, dusk is falling and the Sun's dying rays hit the highway. Enrique Arízaga cycles past and off into the outlying horizon. Almost as soon as he has gone out of sight, a screeching of brakes is heard in the distance and a black car slams to a halt around the bend; the cricket chirps. A man jumps out and rushes over. On observing the cyclist is still breathing, he calls over to the woman, inside the car. She gets out and calls back over to him. The woman beckons him again to desert the scene of the accident, leaving the cyclist to die. The car moves off again disappearing towards Madrid.
In the immediacy of its establishing sequence, Juan Antonio Bardem's Muerte de un ciclista (Death of a Cyclist) already outlines the foundations and circumstances behind the film's plot. An adulterous couple, Juan (Alberto Closas) and María José (Lucia Bosè) run down a cyclist on their way back to Madrid after a clandestine meeting in the outskirts. Rather than call for help the couple, fearful of the discovery of their adulterous relationship, flee the scene of the accident. Bardem's film focuses on the tribulations and strains on the characters' relationship from that point onwards and the lengths they go to keep their crimes of adultery and murder under cover.
Spanish director Juan Antonio Bardem (1922-2002) explored and made use of a variety of genres within his early career. In Esa pareja feliz (1951) and ¡Bienvenido Mr Marshall! (1953), both joint ventures with contemporary Luis García Berlanga, Bardem through the conventions of comedy was able to develop a structure of parody and political satire. In Cómicos (1954), Bardem was heavily influenced by the genre of Hollywood melodrama, in particular that of films such as All About Eve (1950), a convention he would continue to develop throughout later films including Calle Mayor (1956).
Throughout Muerte de un ciclista Bardem develops a compound of contrasting style and genre to represent key issues within Spanish society. Prominent themes and genres within the film include film noir and the femme fatale mould, the Hitchcock suspense thriller, Italian neo-realism and soviet montage. Bardem uses these contrasting elements directly after one another in order to create what Marsha Kinder refers to as a 'rupture' within the centrality of the plot of the Hollywood melodrama. In the same way as the unnatural cutting and contrasting imagery Bardem uses, the film is able to ideologically expose corrupt and immoral elements of the Franco regime. The focus of this essay is to explore and to investigate these various elements and analyse the way in which they come together in forming a hybrid that is unique within the history of Spanish cinema.
Through the usage of a variety of contrasting elements and genre Bardem is able to ideologically expose the corrupt elements of the Franco regime. Today Muerte de un ciclista stands as a critique of the conformist values that it ridicules and attempts to tear apart. It breaks all the rules and shows the power of cinema to revolutionise daily life. In the same way as Bardem's characters of María José who breaks the conformist gender rules of Francoist Spain, Matilde who rebels against the institutional system and Juan who goes against the corruption and falseness of his class background, so too does Muerte de un ciclista rebel both by taking a stand against the corrupt Franco regime and also by breaking the rules of mainstream conventional cinema in order to present something vitally fresh and unique in Spanish film. Alfred Hitchcock once noted that it is important to know the limits of commercial cinema. Bardem is able to successfully use a clash of genre to stretch the viewer close to an absolute limit and is subsequently able to breakdown and underline the key political issues surrounding contemporary Spanish society. In the same way as the moral courage that the character of Juan is able to attain, Bardem seeks to signify the same moral fibre that the Spanish regime strove to repress. Like the broken window imagery that Bardem puts forward towards the end of the film, so too does a hole within the melodramatic centrality serve as a central element within the film's plot in order to be clashed with and torn apart. It is through this hybrid and "rupture" of genre that Juan Antonio Bardem's Muerte de un ciclista has been able to create a quintessential feat in Spanish cinema.
Harrison Cohen
"What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account?" Lady Macbeth
Barry Lyndon (1975)
Barry Lyndon - "A Cinematic Vision of Life"
It can easily be said that in order to be fully appreciated, the films of Stanley Kubrick require a second viewing or at the very least one which is undertaken with the fullest of dedication. Both Barry Lyndon and 2001 fit into this category - both masterpieces of cinematography and of sound, they both seem to divert very easily from the pathway of other typical notions of cinema. Unlike Kubrick's other works both these films depart from any sense of dialogue and although narrative is highlighted in Barry Lyndon through the presence of a narrator, there is none the less a far more powerful underlying narrative technique present. One of the few films ever to accomplish such an art is Barry Lyndon, in which the narrative is conveyed through the pure emotion, melancholy and silence of the film's protagonists. Redmond Barry's character rarely speaks within the film and his actions are undoubtedly more powerful than his words. Rather than face heated argument or debate he instead reverts to man's violent tendencies - this is clearly seen when he throws a wine glass in Captain Quin's face; the presence of duels and fighting throughout the film, which soon develops into that of a very powerful motif, which is furthermore enhanced when he is seen whipping his stepson, Lord Bullingham. Kubrick has shown through this multi-faceted masterpiece a fresh form of cinema and a power of silence. By reverting from the typical artistic tendency of pathetic fallacy, (indeed it is hardly ever seen to be raining or cloudy within the film) Kubrick instead uses silence to display such a sense of raw emotion. It is very crucial to notice that Barry and Lady Lyndon's characters almost never speak to one another throughout the film, which adds a layer of sadness and depression to the film's narrative, whilst Barry's simple words of "I'm sorry" speak volumes of their relationship, one which is marked by pain, sorrow, betrayal and greed. Kubrick has produced a film of epic proportion, and whilst the battle montages are easily rivalled by other period pieces, it is Kubrick's power to shoot the development of Barry Lyndon's protagonist throughout his life that remains the film's quintessential element. The film is adorned with a period score and other resonating pieces of classical and baroque period music, which compliment both the so-close to perfection cinematography, and in the same vain as Kubrick uses sound in 2001, the exclusion of dialogue within the film.
Barry Lyndon is a film often overlooked within the Kubrick filmography due to its serious and slow-paced undertones. It is these undertones, however that help to build up the film into a work of art that inspires possibly only the most devoted of film enthusiasts. This film should be viewed as many have suggested as such, an artistic portrayal of a period long romanticised, yet scarcely interpreted with such loyalty and devotion to the screen. Whilst Barry Lyndon remains among the greatest works of modern cinema, it is one, whose viewing must only be conquered by the most passionate of film-goers, if it is ever to be truly appreciated. It accomplishes that which few films are capable of, in bringing pure life onto the screen. Perhaps only rivalled by the select few other masterpieces of cinema, Kubrick's Barry Lyndon is a life epic, which leaves the viewer shaken and inspired. It is a film with the power to leave the viewer standing upon a whole new perspective of life, one which told through the neutral story of Redmond Barry provokes pure sorrow and depression within the heart of the viewer.
In short it could be said that Barry Lyndon is one film which embodies the real values of cinema, the ability to portray precisely the notion of life on the screen and that which so strongly affects and resonates within the mind of the viewer. It is a film that will leave even the strongest of viewers humbled and depressively shaken. It is film of outstanding expertise and experience, both in artistic nature and in narrative. Barry Lyndon is a modern masterpiece and should be viewed as such, a cinematic vision of life. If one were to simply define it as "cinematic perfection", in doing so one would be doing it an injustice.
Harrison Cohen - harrisoncohen@msn.com
Juno and the Paycock (1929)
The Worst Hitchcock Film
I can't believe I actually sat through this movie. I am watching all my Hitchcock DVDs from the Lodger (1927) to Family Plot (1976). Both the Lodger and the Farmer's Wife (1928) were really entertaining. This however the third in my marathon was spectacularly awful. It is the only Hitchcock movie I've seen that I can say is bad. Although the story tells a moral tale of how greed and apathy lead to bad consequences, the way Hitchcock goes about it is passive to say the least. For the most part the camera remains positioned in a room of characters giving sentimental drawn out pieces of irrelevant dialogue. Although being an early talkie this is understandable. The film is therefore drawn out and unbearable to modern audiences. Having spent almost the entire length of the film confined to the apartment of our protagonists the viewer is left we a sickening feeling of claustrophobia, allowing a cheer of joy when the film finally ends.
I give this film a 2/10 and not a 1 purely because it contains a moral importance. Nonetheless unless you're an absolute Hitchcock fanatic (like myself) I wouldn't dare tell anyone to watch this film. It is so bad its not even fit for use in torture methods!!!
Matador (1986)
Why doesn't Almodovar's name appear on either the IMDb or ending movie credits?
I was just wondering why Almodovar's name doesn't appear in any credits in the movie. He is seen midway through the movie in a role as a fashion designer, he is even interviewed by a reporter in which he gives his view that Spain is divided in two, the intolerant and the envious. He then goes on to say how he is part of both of these. It just doesn't make sense to me the reason why in so many of his films he is seen (although sometimes very briefly), yet he is never referred to. If someone could enlighten me???
Matador is one of favourite Almodovar movies. I found that I could really relate to Banderas' character - My vote 7.5