Humoresque has glimmers of real passion, but it’s just so bogged down by the weight of its overblown story. It plays out like a by-the-numbers musical drama, a cinematic recreation of so many stories we’ve seen dozens and dozens of times before. I’m a big fan of both John Garfield and Joan Crawford— they’re enticing on screen together, when the film allows them the chance. The underlying problem is that the film just can’t escape its own tiresome seriousness. Beyond…
I’ve been avoiding rewatching Phantom Thread for a full year now. There’s this strange fear I have about my favorite films, as if the sacredness of the first viewing will scatter into dust when I watch it a second time, and I will have to repeatedly lie to myself into loving it with the same sincerity as the first, despite that nagging feeling telling me the magic has disappeared. But, with this second viewing, I grew to love Phantom Thread…
One thing I didn’t pay much attention to through all my rewatches in the past 4 years is how this film opens and closes with Theodore’s letters. The first one being an impersonal, distant version of him, a letter disguised as a form of intimacy and connection— but it’s all fake. We grow even more apart in this world despite its crowds of people and vast cityscapes, and the longing for something real is so overwhelming. Theodore embodies this longing so deeply, but, by his last letter, the beautiful words he writes ring true because he’s lived them.
Spike Jonze, please pay for my therapy bills.
Marvel movies always present me with a dilemma. For one, I never know how to rate these movies. To be honest, I don't even think most of these films are all that great, Infinity War included. However, one thing that keeps me watching them year after year is the special theater experience. Feeling a communal energy, laughing together at the jokes, experiencing a film with a hundred people— I love it.
I don't think Infinity War is a great film,…