My Favorite Movies

Not even 10 minutes are required of Inglourious Basterds to know that we are faced with another masterpiece from a filmmaker who only makes masterpieces.

The opening sequence of Bastards is one of the most powerful sequels ever seen in Cinema. Through a mesmerizing dialogue, where the silence is fraught with tension, Tarantino develops with mastery (and elegance while walking with his camera around the characters) two crucial factors for the plot: a sarcastic personality (and even docile) of his stunning villain, and the climate and atmosphere necessary to understand his vision of France occupied by the nazi.

Here, instead of wandering about Like a Virgin, foot massage or the fascinating personality of Superman, he draws an analogy between mice and squirrels to explain the revulsion that the nazis felt by the Jews. Fucking brilliant. Not for nothing that a script with this type of monologue has taken almost a decade to get complete. Tarantino is a craftsman, a sculptor of words. There are countless memorable dialogues in the film, which follows a group of eight Jewish American soldiers hunting down Nazis - the group calls itself the "bastards".

If you think that the premise is not badass enough, wait until you see these guys in action: a little blood here, few "haircuts" there, a finger on and a lot of shots. Yes, the deliberate exaggeration characteristic of the director is there. Cinema lover like no one other, Tarantino likes to abuse the effects caused by the images. Since we are in fiction, anything goes. And the audience reacts with discomfort. Mission accomplished.

Speaking of exaggeration, I consider Inglourious Basterds the Kill Bill of the II War. With plot also broken into chapters, cool transitions (such as the soldier Hugo Stiglitz') and camera movements almost identical to the Bride's movie (I'll cite a specific sequence below), Tarantino makes here his most interesting exercise of metalanguage.

And I speak not only of Pride of the Nation, the movie within the movie and movie tribute to the Nazi propaganda's cinema. Famous for sewing his threads with elements of pop culture, in Inglourious Basterds, besides that (the source of the credits refers to the spaghetti westerns of Sergio Leone) he also refers to his previous films, especially Kill Bill.

It's not strange that, for example, the name of the wisecracking Colonel Hans Landa sounds familiar to that of Hattori Hanzo, blacksmith creator of the mighty sword of Beatrix Kiddo in Kill Bill (Hans - Hanzo). Selton Mello taught me how to make these connections. Or the obligatory tip of Samuel L. Jackson narrating the sequence of the power plants of the rolls of film. Not to mention the incredible shooting of the bar, who inherited the best Reservoir Dogs style. It's Tarantino quoting Tarantino, and this is fuckin' bloody brilliant.

So, back to the amazing Hans Landa. What a beautiful work of austrian actor Christoph Waltz (which was awarded this year in Cannes and Golden Globes). Without a single doubt, one of the most fascinating villains that cinema has ever produced. A Nazi colonel gently deconstructs the archetype of the tough, violent military. Speaking four languages fluently (the scene in which he tests Pitt's italian is hilarious), Hans tortures and causes fear, yes. But he does this with the elegance of an english lord: poor Shosanna Dreyfus, compelled to enjoy a sweet refined plate offered by the killer of his family, in a fabulous scene.

The beautiful frameworks are a fine premise in the films of Tarantino. Again, as a fan of cinema, he composed his pictures with remarkable precision. One example is when Shosanna prepares to execute his plan for revenge: using the red dress, red nails and red lipstick, she anticipates a possible blood bath (without giving up the black veil of mourning). Looking at the street through the window, her reflection is mixed with the red of Nazi banners extended outside, what a truly beautiful mise-en-scene! Leaving the room, once again, Tarantino emulates Kill Bill when he follows the character through the corridor until she reach the stairs, with view from top to bottom, a plongé that resembles a sequence of scenes in the temple of O-Ren Ishii.

It was the beginning of an epic finale. A violent, disturbing conclusion, but no less brilliant. A landmark film and of the career of Quentin Tarantino, the most motherfuckin' cool ever director!

What is so intriguing and interesting about this film is that it shows us some of Dylan's masks (the means by which he conceals his actual appearance) in order to examine what lies beneath them, and it also looks at his personality in order to suggest how he has protected, changed and diffused it. It gives us a good deal of truth about Dylan, but realises that in his case the best route to the truth is 'slant'.

Casting him in the role of 'Jack Fate' is essential to all this; it means we are pushed a step back from Dylan himself, and therefore see him more clearly. In some respects, Fate is not like Dylan at all - he is a rock star past his sell-by date, who has spent the last twenty-odd years playing in obscure honky tonks and bars and refusing to deal with the dodgy administrators of the music business. At the same time, he has qualities we recognise as Dylan's own: he shares Dylan's deepest preoccupations, and he plays his music (of course). In particular, Fate is like Dylan because he exists at the point where an amazingly creative imagination is permanently scrutinised by its audience. He wants to think of his work as a self-sufficient universe, but his is constantly - sometimes threateningly - required to interpret it, and to justify or explain its connection to surrounding events.

At the film's savage climax, Friend attacks Uncle Sweetheart, and is in turn attacked by Fate then Cupid - who murders him. As we watch the journalist bleed to death, it's hard not to think that Fate/Dylan is getting his revenge for a lifetime of intrusion - but when Fate is falsely accused of the murder, and taken off for sentence, we realise that things are not as straightforward as that. Fate meets his fate without complaining, and in his silence seems to assent to the accusation made against him.

On the face of it, Masked and Anonymous is a film about political corruption, the tensions between religions, and shady business deals - all subjects close to Dylan's heart. Its deeper concerns are closer still: do artists have a responsibility to interpret their work? What value does art have in a corrupt world, and what use? How can the artist protect his gift from his admirers, let alone his detractors? And then there's a third and even more personal level of interrogation. Can happiness be pursued, or must we wait for it to come to us? Are dreams an acceptable alternative to realities? Can our tangled relationships with family and loved ones ever be 'straightened out'?

At all these depths, and in all these respects, the film is deeply engaging. It is also revelatory - in the paradoxical sense that it allows Dylan to say some important things out loud, and to keep the silences, and retain the elements of mystery, which are essential to his genius. We should ask for nothing else. And if there are people watching who still can't resist trying to rip off the mask, and shatter the anonymity - well, they should concentrate on the face we see in the film, and the music we hear. The face with its extraordinary mixture of immobility and expressiveness. The music with its exhilarating sweep and range, and its delivery in a voice which with every passing year has become more haunting in its grace, more compelling in its command.

Warning: this is just a PERSONAL analysis/conclusion.

Majestic. Moving. Intricate. Engaging. And without a doubt, beautiful. I thought in a thousand words who could describe the magnificence of this film, but none of them fit me. I could try to use the ingenuity and the apparent linearity of the film title that almost describes the plot. This, if I didn't use the word "apparent". As a composer friend of mine would say, perhaps, it's all about a great alchemy of words. A title which seems so simple, but that in itself is the key of the movie. Not for nothing, Brad Pitt (amazingly badass superb as Jesse James) required in contract that the name of the movie could not be altered in any free translation. Well, for me, each movie he does, the certain that Pitt is a genius grows, that's for sure. The strength of the movie, undoubtedly, is the generous Affleck's interpretation. Good Lord, so talented and inspiring that robs us of the breath. Every scene we wonder why he didn't take that deserved Oscar (there was a Javier Bardem in the way, ok).

Well, I could talk about the questioning the film does about the rise of celebrity's culture using the american myth par excellence, already sung by God Dylan, Jesse James. During the movie, using the craft of the "off narrative", the director dialogues with the myth to explain the man, a bold inversion of values. In traditional biopics, you take the man to unravel the myth. There's also another great merit of the film. The director knew that only by risking to break some paradigms of american cinema he could, in fact, disassemble that so engendered figure, so entrenched in it that he succumbed to his own fame. He draws a parallel between fame and fan, and how the relationship of love and hate, greed and contempt happens.

I remember that my level of fascination was such that, after watching it, I downloaded the incredibly beautiful soundtrack by Nick Cave, and after my delight in listening to it, I couldn't contain myself and watched the whole masterpiece again. A masterpiece of 160 min! As a Psychology student, I could expand on the strong influence of unhealthy introjection of Robert Ford, his narcissistic identification, and still wouldn't detail the amazing genius of the film. And, surely, I remember that ALL the facts reported in the film were not only "based" on actual events, as is a DETAILED DESCRIPTION of the murder of Jesse James. The director himself said that he bet the dialogue would fit the facts. Of all the films made about Jesse James, his descendants have claimed that this is the most accurate. The beauty is in the art of telling as it was in the director's cinematic prowess combined with frighteningly brilliant photograph of the greatest genius, in this area, alive, Roger Deakins. The Assassination of Jesse James snatched me in such a way that occupied my mind for a long time, so I asked everyone to review the film for me. Interestingly, I perceived a common reaction. Everyone described the key scene as being ambigeous but there is more than enough evidence to suggest that it isn't ambigeous at all and this common opinion intrigued me. Let me explain and stress that this is just an opinion. The entire film is about how Jesse is a man at conflict with himself, reflected in three key scenes; the train robbery when he is standing over the train conductor ready to assassinate him, the scene where he attacks Albert the young boy and his subsequent remorse and the scene where he presents Robert Ford with a new gun by way of apology for his erratic behaviour. Other evidence is when he confesses to Charlie Ford about the murder of Ed Miller and the scene where he asks Charlie Ford if he had ever contemplated 'suicide'. We all know that, not coincidentally, that would be the way that Charlie would end. All of this shows a man in deterioration, a man who is at complete odds with himself and who increasingly longs for a release from the pain of living what has become an almost impossible existence. As an outlaw he is wrought with paranoia and guilt over his history of violent crime. He isn't a man who is going to take his own life, but he is a man who is becoming so increasingly tired with his way of life that he is increasingly willing to accept death. Jesse James was a man who knew the exact time, date and place of his death. And he would be responsible for it.

When he discovers that Robert and Charlie have betrayed him, he realises that he will always be in the company of men that he has to suspect of either trying to turn him in or betray but he just doesn't know how to live any other way. His immediate reaction is one of anger which he manages to restrain at the breakfast table and Robert Ford, clearly fearing his life, leaves for the other room. Earlier, before breakfast Robert made a clear point of asking Jesse if his wearing guns in public was a wise decision. It is also suggested earlier in the film that Jesse is never without his guns. It never ocurred to me that the act of Jesse of abandon his guns, was a gesture of trust to the Ford brothers. No way. After Jesse has been made aware of the betrayal there is a scene of him looking out of the window at his daughter with an expression of melancholy. It is in this moment that he decides that he does not want to continue living and that Robert and Charlies fear for their own life is Jesse's own opportunity for his own release. Can we make an allusion to Freud here again? No, we MUST. When Jesse takes his guns off he methodically lays them out on the chair, this is clear indication that he is making himself vulnerable to Robert. Robert is visibly distraught and likely to take the extreme step of shooting an unarmed Jesse to protect himself but it's Charlie who is key to this scene, because he is so reluctant to draw his weapon on Jesse but accepts that it has to be done hence the title of the song 'What Must Be Done' which is further evidence that all three know what is coming. When the assassination doesn't arrive after Jesse lays out his guns, he does something quite kinky considering the circumstances and says 'don't that picture look dusty'. He stands on the chair and awaits his inevitable fate, he doesn't attempt to dust the picture. The picture isn't dusty. On the contrary, the image of Ford is reflected and melts at Jesse. Yes, this is Freud once again. It is a clear act of submission encouraging Robert to undertake 'what must be done'. When he sees Robert pointing the gun at him in the reflection of the picture, he doesn't react with surprise or shock or anguish, he accepts what is going to happen and bows his head in anticipation. He knows that Robert is cowardly and will shoot him in the back. And I say more. This is an act of suicide, since he "let himself die" by his own reflection, Bob Ford.

Robert being a coward is also significant to his theatrical portrayal of the assassination where he dramatizes events by claiming that Jesse was just trying to lull them into a false sense of security which is clearly untrue. Later when he challenges the audience, the narrator states that Charlie agrees with the accusations that Robert is a coward. Jesse enticed the brothers into killing him for his own selfish reasons and the whole film is geared towards that key scene supported in the superb (without the slightest exaggeration) interpretation of Sam Rockwell, Pitt and the spectacular Casey Affleck.
That's why the title of the film is deliberately ironic. It could have just been called 'The Assassination of Jesse James' but the extended title challenges the audience to question why it is that Robert Ford was largely considered to be a coward for shooting Jesse in the back when Jesse did the exact same thing to Ed Miller. To imply that Jesse didn't want to die at all is missing the entire fabric of the film. As his career draws to an end, Jesse James becomes aware of the impossibility of facing an increasingly vast army of sheriffs, federal agents and Pinkerton men. With the taunts and whims of a lover, he encourages Ford's envious, murderous fascination, and grooms him as his own killer, so that his own legend will be pristine after his death. He engineers a character-assassination of Ford, and the title, knowingly, gets it precisely the wrong way around.

In the end of the day, the question is... who really was the coward? I wouldn't say Jesse James. I would say Jesse James and Robert Ford.

For me, that was expecting a scene of the 60s, as promised by the plot, it was frustrating. There are only few illustrative references, rather superficial illustrations of The Swingin Years as the effervescence of NY (Gaslight, Cafe Wha? [seen here as Cafe Huh?]) and in a very dry mention, the Vietnam War. The soundtrack, surely, is undeniably fabulous, but for a film that was to cross on the 60s using The Beatles as a motto, it was just a failed attempt. So if you are an admirer and student of the counterculture like me, there are a hundred more films so richly illuminating than this. Go read Hunter Thompson, Andy Warhol, Jack Kerouac and keep Across the Universe on the shelf.

This film can be a trap for inveterate fans of Rolling Stones that, inadvertently, seek for only a few more takes of scenes from backstage, such as "Gimme Shelter" bring to us, for example. Why use the term "trap"? Because, yes, I am an inveterate lover of Stones. And yes, I fell in this trap. Not that there are not Jagger, Richards, Jones, Wyman, Watts, Hopkins, Marianne Faithfull and Anita Pallemberg. They're all there. But the movie isn't "about the Stones" AT ALL. Godard takes the recordings of the fabulous "brazilian samba" Sympathy for the Devil (Mick's words) that opens the Beggars Banquet to show a picture of the counterculture in the late 60's. It's, therefore, a film-manifest. The film was finished in 68 and shows Godard and his recent approach with Marxism. But you know what? It's a film that gives the impression of having been made only for catechize who sees with his political-ideological discourse and practice techniques of editing and dubbing. I don't know if even the fans of Godard are satisfied with this movie. So, if you search for Rolling Stones here (after all, the idea of a film that reunite political and aesthetic concepts, interspersed by the symbolic music of The Rolling Stones, is excellent, but, please, don't illude yourselves, however), go find "Gimme Shelter". Not to say that there is nothing that the Stones could have done for the film, note that at one point in the film, Jagger has changed the lyrics from "Who killed Kennedy?" to the now classic "Who killed the Kennedys?" While no comment is made on it, this is days after Robert Kennedy has been shot dead (the two murders are also alluded to in Godard's own title One Plus One). The song grew out of the times. Honestly, I assume that this film gave me fear. Godard ended the "intelligentsia". And this is my final word.

For those who possibly do not know, and mostly for fans of Brian Jones, a warning: the film was indeed the product of an intense research. A survey of ten years, I tell 'ya! They interviewed, inclusively, Janet Lawson, the nurse, apparently missing, who was present at the time of the terrible tragedy. They also interviewed Anna Wohlin, the then swedish girlfriend of our beloved idol. Yes, it was the result of perhaps the largest survey yet made of the murder of Jones. And they still made an inconsistent film, with all this material! Very ignorant regarding to the seducing, almost mythical figure of the unspeakable multi-instrumentalist. Brian was a genius with an inestimable talent. Impulsive, impetuous and imprudent (characteristics of the great geniuses), has been decimated by the drugs. Actually, you can even say that Brian commited suicide. Gradually, of course. I personally hate when bad informed people, based on one or two sources, blame Jagger and Richards for the process of destruction of Brian. Believe me, nothing there is true. Jagger was an invaluable friend. Of immense concern. Keith, well, I don't need dwell on. Simply, the band, as an institution, couldn't dispose of the excesses of Brian. Or it would be degrading in itself -the band, I mean. In the film, this is not clear. I felt even a tone of accusation against Keith. The fundamental character in Brian's deterioration has a name: Anita Pallenberg. I won't dwell on that, but anyone who has read at least two biographies of the Stones, have a formed sense about Anita. She, an incatious person in her abuses. Led Brian and Keith to hell. You know what I'm talking about. Keith, smarter, bypassed her. Brian didn't have his chance. Got too much involved, and eventually exceeded himself. Here, Anita, in contrast, is shown as a victim, they don't give her the exact value. The actress that plays her, Monet Mazur, although incredibly resembling Anita, is insipid, despite her appeal. Don't take me wrong, please. I love Anita Pallenberg. It was one of the 60's It-Girl's, come on! But, unable to deal with those who didn't resist to her non-healthy influences. The most important topic to be discussed on this film: where the hell is the genius of Brian Jones here? The director, expert of the Swinging Sixties, I point out, focused in Brian's shadow. His defects, his stains, his sin. And wasted the fundamental; his unbelivable talent. The genius and intelligence of Brian Jones are not shown here. Not even how he founded the group. They pass through the childhood of Brian, but always with focus on the dark aspects. Brian was, above all, a charming mankind. Enthusiast, brilliant, creative and with a talent out of this world. Therefore, basically, I can not say, as a fan of the Stones and Brian Jones, that I approved the movie. It's a film that deals purely with the MURDER of Jones, but is far from narrating Brian's life as a whole.

Undoubtedly one of the most intelligent, insightful and disturbing films ever made, Die Welle configures itself to me as a aesthetic, ideological, pedagogical and sociological masterpiece.

Based on the infamous experiment originally occurred in California in 1967, called The Third Wave and proposed by Ron Jones, a History teacher that should approach the doctrine of fascism in class. Jones opted for the experiment when he realized that his students didn't understand the ignorance of the German people declared against the extermination of Jews during the Nazi regime. The teacher decided to simulate in a kind of society's microcosm, composed by him and his students, the end of democracy to raise the power of unity, while following the motto "strength through discipline, strength through community, strength through action, strength through pride ".

The film is perfectly suited to the contemporary reality of German youth, who bear the brunt of one of the most violent dictatorships in history. The teacher Rainer Wenger (Jürgen Vogel) tries to answer whether it is possible, nowadays, an emerging autocratic regime in Germany. In one of the early scenes, the young Germans accuse each other (West / East Germany) and Turks boast to be not part of that people, just a glimpse of the human sleeping terror.

In Rainer's class, a teacher who already was admired by his students, the movement begins through the power by discipline, causing the gang follow a few rules, so cleverly subtly and seductive imposed to become obedient. Heralded as the leader, Rainer feeds the movement with indications that are more pleasing to the students: defining a name for the group (Die Welle, translated as The Wave), a symbol, a greeting and a uniform. Through every little imposition, the teacher sees his intentions working, but not the consequences, as the experience out of the classroom and becomes ideology of the influenced youngs. Die Welle then becomes a collective movement, eliminating the individuality and free will of the members for the benefit to the alleged order and unity. The demonstration quickly dissipates by the school and more students decide to join the group that discriminates against anyone who isn't part of it.

To the amazement of Wenger, his students react favorably to the discipline imposed. The arguments used to join the group - the benefits of equality, justice and order - are the same that have historically been used by political systems either from right or left. The director Dennis Gansel is keen to show, in a synthetic but effective form, the home environments of some of the students, thus contextualizing its subsequent reactions. Shy students and victims of bullying begin to finally feel part of a group, old rivalries were attenuated, and virtually all are left to rest in the comfort of totalitarianism who doesn't oblige them to think for themselves. Now, the differences are canceled and the identities suppressed in the name of a common idea.

The narrative, with a daily progress, tracks the fervent and devoted gang involvement in the project: the creation of a uniform, a name, a logo, a page on myspace. This fervor eventually spread to other students outside of class, while it repels all who opine differently.

Although the movie is a metaphor for how the Nazis raised and the power of its rituals, can educate students about the power of doctrinal political or religious ideological movements. And, indeed, "The Wave" is a metaphor that applies, more or less, to any mass movement responding to calls for a charismatic leader or a mythical cause irrational. The use of slogans and worship of a supposed "great leader" are repeated in the history of mankind: it happened in Nazi Germany, Fascist Italy, and also the so-called 'real socialism' of the Soviet Union, especially in the Stalinist period, in China with the "cultural revolution" promoted by Mao, in Argentina with Peron. The criminal acts of the Ku Klux Klan, McCarthyism that triggered the "witch hunt" to pursue all alleged "communists" in the U.S., rightest governments in Latin America with totalitarian traits as that of Pinochet (Chile), the apartheid regime of South Africa (before Nelson Mandela), the process of "ethnic cleansing" conducted by the Serbs in the Balkans, the neo-Nazi groups skinheads around the world, the balds from the ABC Paulista, Berlusconi, Bush, Jean Marie Le Pen and Ahmadinejad himself, just to name a few.

We note that the common thread among these leaders is the ability to fanaticized the masses for a cause a rational or irrational, taking advantage of undemocratic methods, a fact well elucidated by professor Rainer in his final speech.

In sum, through his characters, "The Wave" can focuses on three lines of analysis: Nazi-fascism as a totalitarian political ideology of the right, the mass psychology and voluntary servitude of individuals to a leader, group or mythical cause, the ideological and political propaganda and the use of 'pedagogical experience' as a means of going beyond the mere learning of theoretical concepts. Note that the teacher takes the film to experiment with group as a teaching resource 'experiential' which always implies some risk of losing control of the educational experience.

It remains actual the closing speech of Professor Wenger, delivered at the end of "The Wave" denouncing to the students the disappearance of critical subjects before the power of a charismatic leader and fanaticism for a cause:

"You thought you were so special! Better than everyone outside of this room. You traded your freedom for what you said was equality. But you turned your equality into superiority over non-Wave members. You accepted the group's will over your own convictions, no matter who you had to hurt to do it. Oh, some of you thought you were just going along for the ride, that you could walk away at any moment. But did you? Did any of you try it? Yes, you all would have made good Nazis. You would have put on the uniform, turned your heads, and allowed your friends and neighbors to be persecuted and destroyed. You say it could never happen again, but look how close you came. Threatening those who wouldn't join you, preventing non-Wave members from sitting with you at football games. Fascism isn't something those other people did, it is right here, in all of us. You ask how could the German people do nothing as millions of innocent human beings were murdered? How could they claim they weren't involved? What causes people to deny their own histories?"

"If history repeats itself, you will all want to deny what happened to you in The Wave. But, if our experiment has been successful - and I think you can see that it has - you will have learned that we are all responsible for our own actions, and that you must always question what you do rather than blindly follow a leader, and that for the rest of your lives, you will never, ever allow a group's will to usurp your individual rights."

Except for all the social criticism that the film brings, I can't forget to mention the exceptional cast (Professor Rainer, played by Jürgen Vogel and the young Tim, Frederick Lau, who lives through the movement, are incredibly bright).

We live in a world where the words of politicians and advertising imagery can persuade people to give up their rights and freedoms to feed a sick policing and surveillance in the name of a false need for security. The economic interests of this "industry" makes it impossible to turn back even when the danger subsides. To the best of reasons, totalitarianism can be tempting. This is the terror against which we must fight, a terror that lives with us and often within ourselves.

The expression on the face of the teacher at the end is awesome. Ron Jones, professor of the real experiment, analyzes this scene as designed to make the to make the audience consider their own capacity for evil. "It puts it into a universal context. We're all capable of this nightmare."

I can easily make an analogy between a movie scene where the screen is divided between "reality" and "expectations" of the protagonist, with my own feeling before seeing it. Surely, there was all that expectation that surrounds each and every hype movie. But there was also the reality of going to see a movie and probably face MY reality, or at least, that was how the movie was reccomended to me: "Get ready to see yourself on screen, and I warn you, if the script is really based on your life, well, you'll hate the end."

So here I am, going to watch that old familiar history of the "girl who doesn't believe in love" or "boy meets girl. boy falls in love. girl does not.". I won't write about how unconventional the film is, ALL the reviews of this page already do this. I prefer to talk, for example, about how the director valorizes that the way to tell a story is more important than the story itself, since he doesn't save ammunition to win the spectator: the highs and lows of the couple in non-chronological order, references to the world of pop music and iconic films, different textures of image and the charisma of the two main actors (he, so look-a-like with Heath Ledger).

The result is irregular. Amid the show of quotes (especially the english band The Smiths and a landmark film, The Graduate, with Dustin Hoffman ?), the quote who stands out is that one regarding the death of chess with The Seventh Seal and Persona, both Ingmar Bergman's. Some solutions, like the Summer's past narrated in black and white, as if it were part of a relaxed newscast have some charm. Other passages tend to infect the viewer, but they fall in a vacuum - in particular, that one which Tom and Summer try to understand abstract art and end in a popcorn movie, and also the one where Tom literally see everything blue after get laid with Summer.

Webb concentrates all the comic refreshment in the supporting characters who give advice to a destabilized Tom and there's nothing very original in the figures of the early mature girl and immature friends (especially Matt Gubler, priceless and undervalued). There are, in fact, more charm than consistency in this tightly packed (500) days of Summer, offering to the public at least one smart insight: in front of insoluble distance between desire and reality, the output seems to be dreaming from it's indeed possible. And I think it's a good end to this review. Ah, I really hated the end.

Definitely, "Delicatessen" is a work aesthetically and visually eccentric. Directed by le génie Jeunet with Marc Caro, the film advances much of the aesthetic sense characteristic of Amelie Poulain, the fantastic universe of pleasure in small things, the strange characters... The two pieces can be so alike and so different at the same time!

Delicatessen is not talking about people eating, as might suggest. It's not a film about food or cooking. It hasn't exactly one genre to which it's affiliated. Presented as a black comedy, in some sense it's a drama, a romance, and in a way, also a thriller of horror. These crosses aren't fragmented, as if each sentence was presented in one of these styles. Everything happens at once and a tense scene is often accompanied by a comic element.

The story happens in a not dated future, in that the food shortage becomes the main currency of exchange. The scenery makes reference from German Expressionism and along with the photograph, composes a bizarre and disturbing scenic environment, which expresses the mood of his characters. The colors range from yellow to red, giving a tone worn, rusty to the projection.

Not a great laughs movie. The subtlety of the humor doesn't appear in the acts and speeches of the characters like a traditional comedy. The fun is in the unusual situations: a woman addicted to suicide, both attempts and fails to consummate her desire, a man self-sufficient that eats snails and frogs, the myopic girl who takes off his glasses at a meeting and the numbers of circus from Louison, the newspaper parodying the famous" Les temps moderns " and many other things. All of this immersed in a dense atmosphere, dark and visually very well built. A single element breaks the consistency of the setting: the television, which broadcasts all the time images from old programs, marking a clear contrast between these two worlds, the present and that wich no longer exists.

It's not a movie that appeals to all audiences like Amélie Poulain. Delicatessen is a silent movie. We have the impression that sometimes the dialogues were abolished in favor of expressive arts. Not always works properly, but the bet on the strength of the images is justified by the excessive care with which they are constructed. Turning to the content itself, I emphasize a point that can also be noticed in several other films of the era that is what can perhaps be called moral flexibility. The radicalization that Delicatessen proposes is rooted in a critical reading of reality, where the acceptance of certain lapses and deviations coexists peacefully with an opposite moral rigor. The same butcher who attracts his victims deliberately, sharpening his knife to cut their flesh, condemns the revolutionary Trogloditas - a group that inhabits the sewers, refusing to live on the surface of a filthy society. Such situations can be seen, for example, in Tarantino's Pulp Fiction.

For those that aren't interested in this juxtaposition of bizarreness, cannibalism, romance and action, I reccomend before attending "The Fabulous Destiny of Amelie Poulain", wich will be more appropriate and enjoyable. The laboratory of kitchen experiments of Jeunet, have one more element that must be considered. Foutaises - which in French is something like futility, stupid, unimportant - it is a short film of 1989, where we can see the force of a knife, placing in the foreground of small pleasures, like the opening sequence of Amélie Poulain. Jeunet is able to please all tastes, even that Delicatessen can be an indigestible dish for some.