The more Martin Scorcese films I watch, the more I am convinced that Silence was the picture he had been building towards to for a large portion of his career. The man has a preternatural fascination with affairs of the faith, or at the very least aspects that could easily be analyzed under a religious lens.
Before Bill Costigan (Leonardo DiCaprio) gnaws his way into Frank Costello’s (Jack Nicholson) crew, the mob boss mentions that it would probably be a bad idea to hire him, since he is probably a rat handpicked by Captain Queenan (Martin Sheen). Later on, Costigan tells Frank that one of his crew members will be the one to probably end up killing him.
As they are having breakfast one morning, Costello approaches a table of pederast priests. One of them says “Pride comes before the fall”.
More than halfway through the proceedings, Costigan asks Costello why the hell he does what he does, if he’s a septuagenarian with all the money he could possibly need.
He does not need a straight answer, but he doesn’t have to; the audience, if they’ve been keeping up to the tragic tale Scorcese has been weaving for two hours, knows full well.
I have really enjoyed the Netflix Wet Hot American Summer series, so I decided to give this movie a try, since it’s from the same director. Although I found the original Wet Hot American Summer thoroughly idiotic, the follow up show is the right amount of silly coupled with a genuine beating heart. So why not, right?
I did not like this movie.
“So you didn’t get a happily ever after?”
“Sometimes all you get is a messily ever after.”
Get the hell outta here!!
Seeing Jena Malone reminds me of my childhood, of that time, very long ago, where I watched her in a movie about high school cheaters with my mom and sisters. I don’t recall anything about the movie, not even if I actually watched it from start to end, but I do recall my family sitting around the television, and Jena Malone’s face in it.
Not golden at all. Not even bright, really.
Christians could learn a lot from examining a shot that occurs 3/4 into The Innocents. A Mother Superior has taken a baby from one of her nuns to bring it to a family for adoption. Only, she is actually going to leave it in the middle of a snowy field for the baby to die. She places the baby and the basket on the cold ground, but before she leaves, the Mother Superior takes the care of rubbing oil on the creature’s head, baptizing it.
Look on Hosea 6:6, and ponder.
A despairing thought that pops into my mind every so often has to do with the plague of violence that has been overrunning my country for over a decade now. My nation, which shall remain unnamed, harbors similar social and financial conditions as to those displayed in City of God. As the camera cut from one subject to the next, unrelenting in its energy, I had that thought again.
It goes like this. I do not think that the violence and crime epidemic of my country will ever go away because it is much easier to point a gun at someone and steal a pair of shoes in a matter of minutes, than it is to work five times a day for a meager salary in order to afford one.
More than any other movie that I can remember, and probably because it was made in Latin America, where the devils they fight are much more different than the demons of the United States, City of God perfectly illustrates the culture of death and corruption that is so ingrained in our poor, destitute nations.
A technical wonder to behold, sometimes an absolutely thrilling crime caper, others a subdued melancholic romance, Victoria is a feat of cinematic achievement that sadly, and I say this from the bottom of my heart, sadly fizzles out during its final half hour.
The reasons for that are understandable: one takes are technically liberating, but narratively constricting. I know exactly where I would have cut the film: back at the club where it all started. It would have made a nice finish. I actually thought the movie was going to end there, and I was getting ready to love it, when it decides to plunge on for thirty more minutes. The one take technique turns the remaining story into an overlong resolution that flirts with implausibility.
I must confess to feeling a tinge of pride after reading all the glowing reviews in praise of Kristen Stewart’s performance here. As loyal readers know, I have been calling her one of the greatest actresses of her generation for many years now.
It’s joyful to see her talent appreciated by so many others now.
Rises above the melodrama purely on the measure of the two leads performances.