Treasure of the Seirra Madre. Matchstick Men. Jaws: the Revenge
The Treasure of the Sierra Madre
A film that goes apart as Fred C. Dobbins does; you just don’t buy it, this morality play sort of forced through its paces, a story not so much about what happens when one tries to get what he wants, but what happens to one when he does get what he wants. A classic indeed, the sand and gold in that Mexican desert, the mountain a woman yielding, and the men, their dirty faces and ragged hair, their beards curling, somber faced Mexicans who suddenly laugh and then go somber again, that particularly well contrasted black and what cinematography, a film about greed but only peripherally, more about madness, though it never unlocks its madness for us.
Matchstick Men
A sting you will see through, and knowing it doesn’t give you the pleasure that knowing the final twist of similar con films might, where you when watch it unfold you begin to understand the layers of trick beneath the layers; they layers in this film, their built sloppily, forced, false; Cage’s mannered performance; this Paper Moon rift; a film that has a box promising surprise but offers up no surprise; just a good looking piece of well lit anti-noir that you’ll never watch twice.
Jaws 3: the Revenge
Hello, I’m Lorraine Grady, and you will find it almost impossible to look at me, my face having taken on the characteristics of Roy Scheider, a not very pretty man; in any case, I’m the main character here and after my husband and son have been killed by sharks, I really need to get away, so I choose the Bahamas, an island, a house close to the water…
Hi, I’m the shark and I’m mad at Ms Brody and her kin so I decide to call on my supernatural powers that allow me to follow her plane…Hello, I’m Michael Caine, and what I’m doing in this film, you ask me, but don’t you love the scene where I fall into the water and pulled out with miraculously dry hair…Hello, I’m J Eric Miller, and what I’m doing watching a film like this at two in the morning is a type of penance.
A film that goes apart as Fred C. Dobbins does; you just don’t buy it, this morality play sort of forced through its paces, a story not so much about what happens when one tries to get what he wants, but what happens to one when he does get what he wants. A classic indeed, the sand and gold in that Mexican desert, the mountain a woman yielding, and the men, their dirty faces and ragged hair, their beards curling, somber faced Mexicans who suddenly laugh and then go somber again, that particularly well contrasted black and what cinematography, a film about greed but only peripherally, more about madness, though it never unlocks its madness for us.
Matchstick Men
A sting you will see through, and knowing it doesn’t give you the pleasure that knowing the final twist of similar con films might, where you when watch it unfold you begin to understand the layers of trick beneath the layers; they layers in this film, their built sloppily, forced, false; Cage’s mannered performance; this Paper Moon rift; a film that has a box promising surprise but offers up no surprise; just a good looking piece of well lit anti-noir that you’ll never watch twice.
Jaws 3: the Revenge
Hello, I’m Lorraine Grady, and you will find it almost impossible to look at me, my face having taken on the characteristics of Roy Scheider, a not very pretty man; in any case, I’m the main character here and after my husband and son have been killed by sharks, I really need to get away, so I choose the Bahamas, an island, a house close to the water…
Hi, I’m the shark and I’m mad at Ms Brody and her kin so I decide to call on my supernatural powers that allow me to follow her plane…Hello, I’m Michael Caine, and what I’m doing in this film, you ask me, but don’t you love the scene where I fall into the water and pulled out with miraculously dry hair…Hello, I’m J Eric Miller, and what I’m doing watching a film like this at two in the morning is a type of penance.
posted by jericmiller at 9:52 AM
<< Home