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Did Losey fave Stanley Baker (doing his best Richard Burton impression) really think he was going to sleep with a Jeanne Moreau in her Jules et Jim pomp while wearing ugg boots?! He must have been as mad as this movie. The 60's were great if you were an aristocrat and here Joseph Losey sculpts his Dolce Vita in the mentalism in Venice and Rome. Booze, jazz, dresses, black ties, shit load of drugs, voodoo, Alfas in their natural habitat, staggeringly good his and hers bed-wear, Jeanne taking infinite long baths. Opportunistic, irresponsible, dripping in sex and Virna Lisi in your bed reading TS Eliot naked bar a pair of NHS specs. What's not to like?
- What do you like the most Eve?
I hope Tarentino wasn't being reflexive when this finishes with the quote "you know what, this maybe my masterpiece". Inglorious is self consciously silly, amusing in parts but more a film maker's indulgence in - that is if WW2 was a modern body-count Western, where we not only won but a bunch of good ol' boys killed Hitler, Goering etc etc - yeeh ha! - what would it look like? It would almost look like this. I enjoyed Tarentino's return to a world which is consciously surreal, a movie world which he loves - here film itself saves everything, actually killing Hitler and is a reference point for all. It just feels like they don't really commit to it fully, as if they know this is sub B movie matter. That's ok in the Grindhouse duo but on this budget, with this cast it is a little too lazy and arrogant, not enough attention payed to engaging the A and B plots with eachother, form something with so much action, so little momentum. C-.
Perfect in every way, Modern Times is challenging, controversial, funny and a little sexy. Chaplin allows gentle introduction to Unionism, communism and American Dream themes which intertwine seamlessly through the perspective of the Tramp - accessible, empathetic and entertaining. The ballad of the little guy swept up sometimes in forces he doesn't understand but sometimes understands so much better than any socio-political analyst - with dancing and the delicious, barefooted Paulette Goddard. Mmmmm.
The Iron Lady is extremely watchable purely for the Oscar winning performance by Streep as the structure and editing is incredibly clunky. The film itself seems desperate to put a new contextual cloak around a liniar narrative and it just gets in the way. The only stuff that anyone cares about is the story of ascent to and most importantly the exercise of the position of Prime Minister, the other "vulnerable" dementia angle is indulgent and doesn't tell you anything other than she got old and the awful ooh, there's a statue of a soldier, let's do the Falklands bit is terrible storytelling. Biopics should either focus on an inciting moment or really be liniar - this tries to escape a straight jacket and does neither. Streep though is outstanding. Not as good a film as you think you are watching.
A West Wing on downers, The Ides of March packs a series of selfish punches that makes for a an incredibly compelling hour and a half. Gosling proves again that he won't be the wank fantasy that his looks and early films would have him be, delivering in the last act a bloodless killing spree to rival the bloody conclusion of Drive, it's impossible to imagine his West Wing equivalent, Lowe, elevating from the charm to the psychotic. An all star cast, which look incredibly smug on paper (full members of Team America's F.A.G.S.) deliver a real high class quality outing, Clooney great, Hoffman and Giancometti just about don't play themselves and Tomei elevates everything she is in, top stuff - if you fuck up, you're out.