Iro's Film Diary

Eric Idle plays Sir Robin.

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It's what you learn after you know it all that counts. - John Wooden
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When the **** did Bridge On The River Kwai become a comedy? Strangelove is awful and not at all funny. Not even slightly.

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5-time MoFo Award winner.

And what a difference that makes.

I'm probably due for a re-watch, but I think of And Now For Something Completely DIfferent as my least favourite of the Python films. Even Meaning of Life had, well, the meaning of life to guide it through some bizarre digressions.

What.

Why do I get the feeling that you deliberately structure posts so that you post your most agreeable opinion first only to immediately follow it up with a disagreeable one?

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Iro's Top 100 Movies v3.0

Did I get that wrong? ****.

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Movie Reviews | Anime Reviews
Top 100 Action Movie Countdown (2015): List | Thread
"Well, at least your intentions behind the UTTERLY DEVASTATING FAULTS IN YOUR LOGIC are good." - Captain Steel

#83 - Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
Michel Gondry, 2004



A man discovers that his girlfriend has had all her memories of his existence erased from her mind, so he decides to undergo the same procedure to erase his memories of her.

Despite the fact that he has the kind of creative sensibility that should seriously endear me to his work, I do feel a sort of resistance to the cinematic creations of Charlie Kaufman. This remove is most apparent when I watch what is probably the most all-around popular/acclaimed film he's ever penned, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. It's one of those films that simply feels "too perfect" - there's not exactly anything out of place about it, which only serves to make it feel strangely flawed. It's probably as accessible as Kaufman gets with its high concept about a company that erases people's memories, most prominently those who would like to forget about their failed romantic relationships. After beginning with a meet-cute between Jim Carrey's buttoned-down neurotic and Kate Winslet's exuberant wild child, the story really starts with the revelation that Winslet has not only broken up with Carrey but also erased her memories of him as well. As a result, a spiteful Carrey decides to undergo the same procedure himself; however, he soon begins to have second thoughts...

In theory, Eternal Sunshine... has a lot going for it. Carrey provides what might be his greatest performance as yet another one of Kaufman's sad-sack protagonists, though Kaufman files the edges off in order to make him just sympathetic enough to meet the story's needs. Winslet's character functions as a deconstruction of stereotypical quirky girlfriends yet she is afforded enough nuance as both a real and imaginary character. The rest of the cast tend to consist of a handful of recognisable actors (such as Tom Wilkinson, Mark Ruffalo, and Kirsten Dunst) performing in fairly serviceable supporting roles - the most notable of these is Elijah Wood as one especially opportunistic employee of the memory-erasing clinic. This tendency towards straightforward characterisation is at once contrasted and reflected in the film's more deliberately surreal aspects, such as a barrage of tricks when it comes to camerawork, editing, and effects in order to simulate the gradual elimination of Carrey's memories (and his eventual journey through them). This is done in ways ranging from something as grandiose as a building disappearing into nothingness piece by piece or simple things just as lights literally going out one at a time. The dreamlike state helps to justify some of the more obvious instances of special effects, too - suspension of disbelief is not exactly difficult here.

While I do like how the film jumps between different planes of reality and points in time to tell its dreamy tale, the romantic elements at the heart of the story don't exactly click for me despite the deconstructive approach on offer. It's a compelling enough story that the time tends to just breeze by, but it does so at the cost of feeling a tad inconsequential. Though there are various twists and turns that can't be seen coming on an initial viewing, a second viewing does very little to enhance the experience - if anything, I found that a knowledge of what was about to come next diminished the film and its attempts to unfold a complex (but not too complex) tale of a broken relationship. At least it's generally well-crafted and I do like the world-building that went into the science-fiction side of things. As a result, while I can appreciate Eternal Sunshine... for its brisk pacing and intriguing concept, the final film still a bit too neat and antiseptic despite its commitment to showcasing the messiness associated with love and relationships (both in terms of fleeting highs and crushing lows). I'm definitely bound to watch it again once I've forgotten enough about it, though.

I'm not that clever. Besides, I never know which of my perfectly ordinary, common sense views will be one of those which turns out against everyone else. Bridge On The River Kwai was simply the most wrong and the one which struck me first.

I should have known that previous rating was a troll. But that said, somehow something said to me, if someone ever where to give a movie such insane rating out of thin air... it would be Iro.

But really, awesome you like the movie!

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/watching movies for mark f/
MovieMeditation's Cinema Reviews // Film Diary 2015 // Letterboxd Profile // MovieMeditation's Top 50 Horror

Remember watching Silent Running on TV as a kid when it came out, reminds me how I should see how it stands now. Thanks for renewing that "back-burner consideration" into something stronger.

Heavenly Creatures sound very intriguing.

Solid reps for reviews, as per usual. And, per usual, regardless if I agree, disagree, etc. etc. blah, blah, blah

The biggest hint is that, despite having a reputation for being a highly negative reviewer, I never actually give out zeroes. They just seem unnecessary. If I give out a zero, it's almost certainly a joke.

I've given a zero to The Last Airbender, North, and Pearl Harbor. I think that's pretty much it.

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Letterboxd Profile: https://letterboxd.com/GatsbyG/

I've only seen The Last Airbender and, while I gave it , I can't help but feel like I was being a little too harsh on it. A seems a bit more fair in that it's a generally awful movie but it doesn't piss me off the way that a does.

#84 - Midnight Express
Alan Parker, 1978



In 1970, a young American tourist is caught trying to smuggle hashish out of Istanbul and is sentenced to prison.

Alan Parker knows how to put together a grim little film and it doesn't get much more grim (for 1978, anyway) than Midnight Express, a harrowing based-on-a-true-story tale about an American (Brad Davis) who is sent to a Turkish prison on drug charges and must contend with the many horrifying conditions. It's sensationalist to a fault and does drag from time to time (especially when the film opts to get caught up in courtroom scenes), but that's hardly an issue as the film creates one extremely jarring portrait of life on the inside. The violence is surprisingly brutal for a 1970s Oscar-winner but its deployment never feels excessive or exploitative. Having two major characters be played by Randy Quaid and John Hurt is a plus (especially the latter giving a remarkable performance), especially since they have to balance out a somewhat flat Davis. The film has Parker's typical layer of grit and many of his most recognisable visual strokes, which are only amplified by Giorgio Moroder's frequently ominous score. Midnight Express may not have all that much substance underneath its frequently hellish exterior, but it builds more than enough atmosphere to compensate.

#85 - 127 Hours
Danny Boyle, 2010



While on a weekend trip to an isolated area, a hiker falls down a canyon and has his arm trapped by a boulder.

127 Hours does have quite the task ahead of it in that it has to try to build a feature film out of a solitary man being stuck in the exact same space, especially when the most well-known part of the story involves how Aron Ralston (James Franco) ultimately freed himself from his incredibly dire situation. As a result, Boyle and co. throw every possible trick out that they can to make it as compelling as possible. While Boyle - always a director who is concerned with visual experimentation even when telling the most straightforward of stories - creates a veritable kaleidoscope thanks to his recognisably skewed camerawork and frantic editing choices, it's clear that a lot of the film is down to Franco trying to channel all manner of emotions as Ralston. While some of the choices that are designed to keep an audience's interest work (most prominently a scene where Franco delivers a pointed soliloquy to his video camera that is structured like a talk show exchange), most of the time they are fairly numbing (such as various flashbacks, hallucinations, and visions to help stretch the film out but never for good enough reasons). At least the infamous arm scene lives up to its somewhat intimidating reputation - even now I still wince a little just thinking about it. However, one unforgettably visceral scene does not a movie make and 127 Hours still comes across as a failed experiment on Boyle's part as he attempts to inject an excessive amount of cinematic energy into one very simple, heavily padded story.

#86 - Gattaca
Andrew Niccol, 1997



In a future where each citizen's worth is determined by the strength of their genetic makeup, a young man concocts a scheme that will allow him to rise above his station.

The high-concept behind Gattaca is straightforward to a fault as it uses concerns about genetics and classism to create a dystopian society where one's genes dictate their whole life from birth to death. The actual plot comes from Ethan Hawke's genetically inferior cleaner planning his own deception with a disabled rich person (Jude Law) to allow him to acquire his dream job at the eponymous space-flight facility. The film's examination of its subject matter seems rather cursory as it weaves in and out of a murder mystery where Hawke must stay one step ahead of those that would expose him (including Uma Thurman as an upstanding citizen with her own inner conflicts), not really leaving a whole lot to grab onto in the process. There are some decent performers and the odd good moment scattered throughout the film, while there's some passable world-building and visual style in the mix. However, Gattaca definitely feels like it's stretching its simple premise out far too thin for its own good. Though it doesn't necessarily need to get bogged down in contemplating its central themes to be worthwhile, it doesn't show much strength as a straightforward thriller/drama either.

#87 - Blade Runner
Ridley Scott, 1982



In 2019 Los Angeles, an investigator tasked with terminating synthetic humans who have gone rogue is brought out of retirement to take on a new assignment.

It's Blade Runner.

#88 - Being John Malkovich
Spike Jonze, 1999



When an out-of-work puppeteer decides to get a job as a file clerk, he discovers a secret door in the office that serves as a portal into the mind of actor John Malkovich.

In very much the same way that I think about Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind at something of a remove, so too do I think about Being John Malkovich, an earlier story sprung from the peculiar mind of Charlie Kaufman. The left-field high concept is a good one that sees another typically pathetic Kaufman protagonist (John Cusack) bumble his way through a variety of problems both mundane and fantastic. There are some solid performers in the mix - while Malkovich himself naturally gives a brilliantly self-effacing performance as, well, himself, credit also has to go to not only Cusack but especially Cameron Diaz (who is almost unrecognisable as Cusack's animal-loving wife) and Catherine Keener (whose turn as a self-centred office worker almost put me off the film the last time I watched it but who has since grown on me). The plot may have its holes, but thanks to Jonze's fairly inspired direction it's barely noticeable as things speed along and have enough visual flair to distract from any issues (though my recent absorbing of Kaufman-scripted films does suggest that he really likes to write films where chase sequences and dream sequences overlap). Still a remarkable film that I'd have no problem recommending to just about anybody with an interest in the potential of filmmaking, but as with Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, there's something about it that I'm just not feeling.

#89 - 21 Grams
Alejandro González Iñárritu, 2003



Three complete strangers are gradually brought together in the wake of a traumatic accident.

Having already burst on the filmmaking scene with the Oscar-nominated Amores perros, Iñárritu's sophomore feature once again involves a plot that revolves around telling separate stories about the people who are affected by the fallout of a single horrific incident involving a vehicle. At least 21 Grams distinguishes itself through some rather ambitious editing that has the film play out in one especially anachronic order, often jumping back and forth on the film's linear timeline and between its three main characters within a matter of seconds. While such an approach could have easily resulted in an incoherent mess of a film, Iñárritu manages to strike a decent balance and makes it so that each fragment never feels redundant even as the film challenges you to pay attention to virtually every second of it. I find myself comparing 21 Grams to a jigsaw puzzle - at first, you're trying to piece everything together and are actually appreciating how you're being made to figure things out, but after a while the pieces start to cohere into enough of a picture so that finishing the puzzle feels like a mere formality rather than a goal to aspire towards. 21 Grams does inspire such a feeling, but fortunately it's compensated for by some striking performances from its three leads - Sean Penn isn't too flash as a sick professor, but it's Naomi Watts and Benicio Del Toro as a grieving housewife and a devoutly religious ex-con respectively who really bring dramatic weight to what could have easily been a ineffectively histrionic drama underneath its unconventional editing and narrative structuring.

#90 - Babel
Alejandro González Iñárritu, 2006



When an American tourist is accidentally shot in Morocco, it affects several different families that are spread across multiple countries.

It probably wasn't a good idea to watch Babel straight after watching 21 Grams because now the "single incident affects everyone" plot that carried Iñárritu's previous features definitely feels like it's wearing a little thin the third time around. Though the scale is increased considerably due to the action taking place multiple different countries, it still feels like a rather limited narrative due to the inter-connected nature of the central conflict. One wonders how the film might have functioned without the over-arching lattice of coincidences and instead focused on the thematic similarities between the different plots - the sub-plot about Rinko Kikuchi's deaf-mute schoolgirl seems like it might have been able to stand alone to the point where its inevitable connection to the main plot feels forced. Though Iñárritu does show some competence as a director and assembles a pretty decent international cast to carry things out, they don't really get too much of worth to do in this rather bloated film where the title hints towards a universal language that transcends humanity's cultural differences only for the actual film to not communicate a whole lot of note in the process.

Funny I would consider 21 Grams (2003) to be not as good as Babel (2006), I kind of felt like the way Babel balanced stories was a tad bit more impressive than 21 Grams. Both are very good though.

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It's only after we've lost everything that we're free to do anything.

#91 - 13 Assassins
Takashi Miike, 2010



In 19th-century Japan, a plot is hatched to assassinate the reigning shogun's horribly sadistic half-brother before he can gain any more power.

Having a cinematic iconoclast like Takashi Miike combine his more confrontational sensibilities in order to attempt a more traditional samurai film could have gone any number of ways, so I guess I'm glad that 13 Assassins didn't turn out worse than it did. The first half is definitely going to challenge some viewers as it slowly builds up the group of assassins who are tasked with taking down the shogun's twisted brother, which occasionally showcases the execution or aftermath of the brother's vile whims. The second half sees the fully-formed group carry out their plan, and to the film's credit it's some engaging stuff. It may be a little fatiguing and the more heroic characters don't always receive the definition necessary to make their actions or consequences feel especially poignant, but it still feels like the work of a rather idiosyncratic filmmaking veteran turning his hand to a classic genre to fairly notable results. There are plenty of good moments scattered throughout 13 Assassins that make me think of it favourably, though that first half does feel like a bit too much of a slog at times and even the action-packed back half can have its dull spots. Still worth checking out if you're looking for something that's not your typical action movie.