arf_she_said: (Default)
You were just doing your thing, looking forward to a good psychological drama. You'd heard a bit about this but the whole narrative's pretty over the top, right? Then wham! THIS IS TRUE in face-punching sans serif stuns your critical faculties and lets you know the score. You look it up on Wikipedia and wow, it does seem to have actually happened, and it was awful. Your heart starts to sink but it'll be okay, you've taken on tough movies before and ultimately, it is just a movie, it's not a big deal, and Dreama Walker is extremely pretty.

You can't see much with all those close-up details of the objects in the room but you can trust they mean something because the director wouldn't do it otherwise. It does get coy with framing and focus, but you know you couldn't handle that information anyway, it's too nasty.

It's too claustrophobic and greasy and exhausting, and when you start to question why someone would do something like that you remember the simple parameters laid out at the start -- busy day, bit of guilt, power imbalance and the answers come pretty easy. When there's an elision three-quarters of the way in you wake up a bit and ask, really? So you check Wikipedia and find out you have to go along with it -- this Really Did Happen.

But there comes a point where you have to say, this is enough. This is too disturbing and watching has become untenable. And it hears you, and it cares about you, so it steps back and gives you a long take in a car, sitting close on a gumshoe driving in to save the day. You take a deep breath and watch, and are glad to be reassured that the police are really just trying to help. After all, they work hard, they catch the bad guy and the assaulted woman gets protected and eventually sues. That's a good outcome.

The credits roll after some text reminds you again about how it was a true story. Sure it was unpleasant and you didn't like watching it; gosh, nobody would. It's not like you wanted to see Dreama Walker's boobs, at least never like this, but now you're down with this bit of the film conversation. And it's true, so these kind of stories need to be told, and you supported an indie movie in these tough economic times. The movie needs you, really.

It sure couldn't do it without you.
arf_she_said: (Default)
I finally got to watch All About Eve the other night. So much fun.

My favourite part of the movie is for once not the gay bits. Of course I loved the delicious eroticism of Harrington's obsession.




I loved how Baxter overplayed Eve's devotion, the single-mindedness of her chest-heaving yearning to bang/be Margo.

But it was something else that really got me. For the first half of the film Gary Merrill's Bill Sampson has basically been swanning around, all superior and annoying and sexist. He leaves Davis's Margo after they have a shattering fight about her insecurities; Davis is just magnificent when she tells him, heartbreakingly, that she can't let her surrender to him because the terms are too high. In that moment, in her fear, her insecurities are all she knows. They're who she is.





Then Eve starts twisting the screws and Margo freaks out and Bill runs right back to her. The second he reads about Eve exploiting the very insecurities he decried he runs right back to Margo because he knew how devastated she would be. He appears in her living room and gives her a massive, passionate, comforting hug.





Then he says stupid 50s man stuff, but fuck it, it's romantic as HELL, and it's so necessary, such a restorative fillip that gives us the strength to go with Margo right through to the end, because he REALLY LOVES HER, HE REALLY REALLY DOES, FUCK YEAH! \o/
arf_she_said: (the situation being fluid and all.....)
So Brotherhood (Brodeskab) you guys, I don't even know where to start with this movie.



I could start with the heartwarming scene where the two attractive white guys bond over the creation of awful, just simply vile racist Neo-Nazi propaganda and proceed to distribute it with the sweet, guitar-accompanied abandon that sees young lovers in other movies frolicking in autumnal drifts.

I could start by comparing it to Brokeback Mountain and Einaym Pkuhot, two other recent, stunningly acted movies about the intense homoeroticism of a repressive, masculinist culture.

Or I could start with David Dencik.

Let me start with David Dencik. )

Man, I am so glad to purge my thoughts on this, I haven't been able to think about anything else for a whole day now.

ARF

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