Quinoa1984
Joined Mar 2000
Welcome to the new profile
We're still working on updating some profile features. To see the badges, ratings breakdowns, and polls for this profile, please go to the previous version.
Ratings14.5K
Quinoa1984's rating
Reviews5.3K
Quinoa1984's rating
I was already quite enjoying this visually robust and patiently paced epic (that's not a put down, I love how much King Hu and his crew take in establishing the place and time and how still everything seems while there is so much going on if we look carefully enough), and featuring a superb wide-eyed "but I want to learn" perfornance by Chun as Gu... but once they get to those yellow-robed Buddhist monk bad-asses doing everything by self-defense and being so calm/cool/collected on that little mountain halfway through the story, doing so much to diffuse those sword-wielding dummies coming after the formidable lady Yang, I just had to come to the conclusion "yeah, okay, this is pretty friggin' great."
I know some of the elements of the story are things we have seen in other films, both from China/Taiwan and even to an extent from Samurai films from Japan - these bandits are on the run, there's a corrupt magistrate and it all goes up to the Emperor and so on - and coupled with a Hero's journey (and he starts from being a student of strategy so he isn't entirely a beginner) that you know has to unfold as soon as you see Gu being pecked at by his small-minded mother.
But what sets it apart as its own major beast in East Asian action cinema are the details filling the frame and what gifts he gives his actors space to play in; all of the smoke that gently but assuredly drifts in certain moments; how much he trusts audiences to watch characters fighting in the dark and know what's happening; the specificity in the costuming and how he directs attitudes and postures as much as lines.
How long did Hu and his team have to wait for the light to shine through just so in those woods with those bamboo trees to give that fight such gravitas? How many times to get the leaps and bounds off those bamboo? It seems like (according to imdb) it took years to film this. I don't doubt it! I also love when all those fighters are stunned by the various bells chiming at night when they're about to attack, and how Hu cuts from all the reactions and the places where the bells could be coming from and then their collective fright at what might be inside (humans can't fight ghosts, after all) and then there is another great burst of action.
A Touch of Zen is filled with stupendous stuff like that, where you are caught off guard by the fantasy and all of the tricks that Hu is playing, and he wants us to feel when characters are trapped and isolated and when the atmosphere may overwhelm certain small-minded men with swords. It is long and elaborate, but for as long as it is Hu isn't wasting time because all of those shots establishing places and spaces (sometimes grand, sometimes in the shadows of the night, sometimes in ruins) get us acclimated for what is to come. And when it has to get to the swordplay... it gets with sublime choreography.
I know some of the elements of the story are things we have seen in other films, both from China/Taiwan and even to an extent from Samurai films from Japan - these bandits are on the run, there's a corrupt magistrate and it all goes up to the Emperor and so on - and coupled with a Hero's journey (and he starts from being a student of strategy so he isn't entirely a beginner) that you know has to unfold as soon as you see Gu being pecked at by his small-minded mother.
But what sets it apart as its own major beast in East Asian action cinema are the details filling the frame and what gifts he gives his actors space to play in; all of the smoke that gently but assuredly drifts in certain moments; how much he trusts audiences to watch characters fighting in the dark and know what's happening; the specificity in the costuming and how he directs attitudes and postures as much as lines.
How long did Hu and his team have to wait for the light to shine through just so in those woods with those bamboo trees to give that fight such gravitas? How many times to get the leaps and bounds off those bamboo? It seems like (according to imdb) it took years to film this. I don't doubt it! I also love when all those fighters are stunned by the various bells chiming at night when they're about to attack, and how Hu cuts from all the reactions and the places where the bells could be coming from and then their collective fright at what might be inside (humans can't fight ghosts, after all) and then there is another great burst of action.
A Touch of Zen is filled with stupendous stuff like that, where you are caught off guard by the fantasy and all of the tricks that Hu is playing, and he wants us to feel when characters are trapped and isolated and when the atmosphere may overwhelm certain small-minded men with swords. It is long and elaborate, but for as long as it is Hu isn't wasting time because all of those shots establishing places and spaces (sometimes grand, sometimes in the shadows of the night, sometimes in ruins) get us acclimated for what is to come. And when it has to get to the swordplay... it gets with sublime choreography.
This is such a richly executed, lively slapstick comedy that also at times turns to musical numbers that - not musically but lyrically - have the kind of bounce and distinct feeling that we are off our world of the film that the numbers in RRR did (though A Nous La Liberte is far less over the top when it comes to its social commentary).
What is so remarkable with Rene Clair is it will go very serious and sad and the film shifts that tone without a hitch (the scene where one friend helps bandage up the other's wrist comes to mind, though that eventually drifts into some absurdity as well). And while this is a Musical (wonderful score by Georges Auric) with enough songs to qualify, notice where Clair has his characters speaking and it becomes more like a silent film; technologically it is a transitional film, which makes that one long tracking shot of the conveyor belt where the workers are asked something one by one (and the shot goes a while, all the more special that they pull it off).
I'm just also blown away that this goes into being a heist movie for a good long chunk and it is extremely vibrant and funny while also keeping it's eye on the ball, which of course is showing modern Capitalism to not only make people trapped but to make competition where there should be done. And the art and production design (Oscar nominated, which was maybe a first for a foreign film I have to imagine) is extraordinary as well as things are heightened in spaces for how stark things look in the factory scenes alongside more realistically set ones.
A key thing too is the pair in the middle, Marchand as Emile and especially Cordy as Louis, have strong chemistry as friends. Cordy has the kind of face that can't help but get into comedy and he is the engine of laughs here for his timing and how quick his physicality is. But putting that aside is focus in things moving in frames. That seems basic, but there's something about how Clair films an entire line of people through a space or create the sense of monotonous repetition with the factory scenes that cuts through into an ecstacy of itself.
You know you're watching criminals go about their ups and downs, but for all of the mayhem and mischief at least one of these guys gets into over the course of the story (usually both), you still root for them because of how light the tone is, even as it's ultimately about a very bleak subject which is dehumanization in lives of work. If it feels timeless it is because of the humanity on display, in comic and less comic notes, not the message. Lastly, a historical note: while there was a lawsuit against Chaplin and Modern Times (Clair didn't join in though, he thought it a "compliment" if Chaplin did take from his film), the duo at the heart here actually calls to mind Laurel and Hardy, specifically The Second Hundred Years short (look it up).
What is so remarkable with Rene Clair is it will go very serious and sad and the film shifts that tone without a hitch (the scene where one friend helps bandage up the other's wrist comes to mind, though that eventually drifts into some absurdity as well). And while this is a Musical (wonderful score by Georges Auric) with enough songs to qualify, notice where Clair has his characters speaking and it becomes more like a silent film; technologically it is a transitional film, which makes that one long tracking shot of the conveyor belt where the workers are asked something one by one (and the shot goes a while, all the more special that they pull it off).
I'm just also blown away that this goes into being a heist movie for a good long chunk and it is extremely vibrant and funny while also keeping it's eye on the ball, which of course is showing modern Capitalism to not only make people trapped but to make competition where there should be done. And the art and production design (Oscar nominated, which was maybe a first for a foreign film I have to imagine) is extraordinary as well as things are heightened in spaces for how stark things look in the factory scenes alongside more realistically set ones.
A key thing too is the pair in the middle, Marchand as Emile and especially Cordy as Louis, have strong chemistry as friends. Cordy has the kind of face that can't help but get into comedy and he is the engine of laughs here for his timing and how quick his physicality is. But putting that aside is focus in things moving in frames. That seems basic, but there's something about how Clair films an entire line of people through a space or create the sense of monotonous repetition with the factory scenes that cuts through into an ecstacy of itself.
You know you're watching criminals go about their ups and downs, but for all of the mayhem and mischief at least one of these guys gets into over the course of the story (usually both), you still root for them because of how light the tone is, even as it's ultimately about a very bleak subject which is dehumanization in lives of work. If it feels timeless it is because of the humanity on display, in comic and less comic notes, not the message. Lastly, a historical note: while there was a lawsuit against Chaplin and Modern Times (Clair didn't join in though, he thought it a "compliment" if Chaplin did take from his film), the duo at the heart here actually calls to mind Laurel and Hardy, specifically The Second Hundred Years short (look it up).
It really boggles my mind how I likely watched El many years ago (aka "This Strange Passion," a much more fitful and eye-catching title), and for some reason I can't fathom it didn't register as strongly as the other monumental films by Luis Bunuel.
This is among his most brutal works emotionally speaking, about a pretty well-off businessman with multiple properties who just can't get his mind off of one woman who ge has to pursue until she says yes to him (a perfectly tightly wound de Cordova, the woman playing Gloria, Garces, is so important because she has to play everything realistic and straight for the Mania later to work and she does). Once she loves him, however, he can't let go of the idea that she has had other lovers, and his suspicions make him into the worst kind of boyfriend/husband or just person in general: "I can't live without her, but I know I'll kill for her... or possibly even kill her (!)"
Bunuel's story and direction makes for one of the most potent and engrossingly crazed depictions of obsession I've seen in any film. It's the darkest black comedy on (*thoughts of*) adultery, and you have to laugh at times especially when it comes to how ridiculous and foolish Francisco makes himself to be, especially when other characters around him (who think he is still a pillar of the community) come up and smile and say hi while he is sitting, for example, at a table with his beloved Gloria and it's only a wonder steam isnt always shooting out of his ears. Bunuel has almost no choice but to mock him, and while this is a relationship story there is a blunt irony to the ending as well: in order to stop this "Passion," the only way is to go off into chastity to religion. (Lol).
Francisco, El of the title, is such a ruthless jerk you want to forget when he cries and it's genuine remorse; that is the other extraordinary thing about the film, is that despite how out of his gord this guy can be wifh his abysmal jealousy and how far he makes Gloria so afraid of him (until he tries to pull back), he is still understandable as a human being. But Bunuel is merciless and doesn't leave him off the hook, and the turn halfway through to have Gloria's narration - now it is from her perspective, which we have wondered about and so here is her take on what a mess this is - is bold.
He is, for all of his vulnerability, an abuser and all that (politely) stalker behavior that goes with men like this. Bunuel also gives supporting characters their moments like Gloria's mom and the friend of theirs who Gloria has to turn to in times when Francisco just cannot leave her alone (and the violence - even if it primarily psychological, which makes it all the more rancid - amps up).
Even as it was made in the early 1950s and with little money in Mexico (Bunuel never had extravagant budgets really), it feels like it could be told any time, and for times like these where men get elevated with blackened hearts it feels important still. The musical score also is urgent and compelling, and there are times when Francisco and Gloria's back and forth, especially when it comes to moving about those giant spaces of his home (and those stairs, what a great set of film stairs this has), makes the music get heated. Scolding.
I have to also think there is no way Scorsese didn't watch this at least three or four times before making Raging Bull, it has that same wretched narrative drive of distrust that is also entrenched in religious mania. But unlike Scorsese, Bunuel isnt exactly out to show Gloria, though Delia Garces is a beautiful woman, as this "Madonna/W****" visual thing (there's no subjective POV of legs in a pool, for example), and Francisco is not a working class boxer but a seemingly milquetoast upper-middle class guy (dont buy it). Gloria is ust a woman who has her own sense of herself and does love Francisco despite ::all:: of him, and that's what also makes his jealousy so... strange.
This isn't to say Bunuel isnt concerned about POV - again, we definitely go from Francisco to Gloria halfway through (and there is a moment he freaks out so much it can't help but break to her) - but he also keeps the story moving so that a lot goes down in 95 minutes.
It's all very matter of fact, except when it has to rise into heights of Melodrama I don't know Bunuel ever equalled again. I really love it; a nasty piece of work..
This is among his most brutal works emotionally speaking, about a pretty well-off businessman with multiple properties who just can't get his mind off of one woman who ge has to pursue until she says yes to him (a perfectly tightly wound de Cordova, the woman playing Gloria, Garces, is so important because she has to play everything realistic and straight for the Mania later to work and she does). Once she loves him, however, he can't let go of the idea that she has had other lovers, and his suspicions make him into the worst kind of boyfriend/husband or just person in general: "I can't live without her, but I know I'll kill for her... or possibly even kill her (!)"
Bunuel's story and direction makes for one of the most potent and engrossingly crazed depictions of obsession I've seen in any film. It's the darkest black comedy on (*thoughts of*) adultery, and you have to laugh at times especially when it comes to how ridiculous and foolish Francisco makes himself to be, especially when other characters around him (who think he is still a pillar of the community) come up and smile and say hi while he is sitting, for example, at a table with his beloved Gloria and it's only a wonder steam isnt always shooting out of his ears. Bunuel has almost no choice but to mock him, and while this is a relationship story there is a blunt irony to the ending as well: in order to stop this "Passion," the only way is to go off into chastity to religion. (Lol).
Francisco, El of the title, is such a ruthless jerk you want to forget when he cries and it's genuine remorse; that is the other extraordinary thing about the film, is that despite how out of his gord this guy can be wifh his abysmal jealousy and how far he makes Gloria so afraid of him (until he tries to pull back), he is still understandable as a human being. But Bunuel is merciless and doesn't leave him off the hook, and the turn halfway through to have Gloria's narration - now it is from her perspective, which we have wondered about and so here is her take on what a mess this is - is bold.
He is, for all of his vulnerability, an abuser and all that (politely) stalker behavior that goes with men like this. Bunuel also gives supporting characters their moments like Gloria's mom and the friend of theirs who Gloria has to turn to in times when Francisco just cannot leave her alone (and the violence - even if it primarily psychological, which makes it all the more rancid - amps up).
Even as it was made in the early 1950s and with little money in Mexico (Bunuel never had extravagant budgets really), it feels like it could be told any time, and for times like these where men get elevated with blackened hearts it feels important still. The musical score also is urgent and compelling, and there are times when Francisco and Gloria's back and forth, especially when it comes to moving about those giant spaces of his home (and those stairs, what a great set of film stairs this has), makes the music get heated. Scolding.
I have to also think there is no way Scorsese didn't watch this at least three or four times before making Raging Bull, it has that same wretched narrative drive of distrust that is also entrenched in religious mania. But unlike Scorsese, Bunuel isnt exactly out to show Gloria, though Delia Garces is a beautiful woman, as this "Madonna/W****" visual thing (there's no subjective POV of legs in a pool, for example), and Francisco is not a working class boxer but a seemingly milquetoast upper-middle class guy (dont buy it). Gloria is ust a woman who has her own sense of herself and does love Francisco despite ::all:: of him, and that's what also makes his jealousy so... strange.
This isn't to say Bunuel isnt concerned about POV - again, we definitely go from Francisco to Gloria halfway through (and there is a moment he freaks out so much it can't help but break to her) - but he also keeps the story moving so that a lot goes down in 95 minutes.
It's all very matter of fact, except when it has to rise into heights of Melodrama I don't know Bunuel ever equalled again. I really love it; a nasty piece of work..