Film
Years from now, I’m sure I will have forgotten nearly everything about Infinite Storm, but this one scene will still stick with me.
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For 2 hours and 39 minutes, I was happy to sell my soul to Lucifer
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I wrote last week that the best films at the Tribeca Film Festival tended to be documentaries. Then I saw a scripted German film that turned out to be an exception.
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The Black Phone is not just about kids fighting to live. It’s about kids fighting to be seen, and in the case of the film’s literal ghosts, heard.
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Cha Cha Real Smooth is sappy but welcome: it is an unconventional comedy that offers a rare dose of empathy for the family in these anxious times.
All the Colors of the Dark and The Case of the Bloody Iris are underrated giallo gems worth seeking out, representing not only the best of the genre, but sex symbol Edwige Fenech’s onscreen magnetism at its strongest.
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Rather than a triumphant return to form from one of horror’s greatest visionaries, Dark Glasses plays like a faded Xerox copy of director Dario Argento’s past hits.
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As always, the documentaries at the Tribeca Film Festival were where you found the best films. Here are four I would recommend.
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One comes away a trifle numb: in part due to the sheer number of films made; but in part both awed and terrified by Hollywood’s ability to use what were, for the most part, mediocre films to make the ravages of war not only so acceptable to the American public, but glorious.
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The clamor to do justice to 1972 did not cease, so here are salutes to four additional films, The Getaway, Last House on the Left, The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie, and What’s Up Doc?.
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