The beauty of three consecutive shots of a luncheon ballad transforms Brooklyn from a lovely period drama into a lifeline, as profound and identifiable as a fingerprint.
Christopher Nolan's The Prestige paints twin portraits of men driven by ego, by an existential hole that won't allow them to find satisfaction anywhere but on stage.
Who wouldn’t wish for release? A dizzying catharsis? A moment where the body no longer obeys but flings itself to the furthest corners of its reach and comes out dancing?
On The Secret World of Arrietty, teenage despair, wanting what you can't have, and being wanted when you can't be had.
This is the moment of a woman alone, shuddering with the g-force and fear; repeating into the static void a fierce whisper to convince them: “I’m okay to go. I’m okay to go.”
Ryusuke Hamaguchi’s Wheel of Fortune and Fantasy takes care to determine what constitutes and calculates the distance between two people, to examine the shapes that relationships can take.
All I can say for certain is that, for just under four minutes, Dan Deacon took me out of my mind.
Camera Buff is more than a narrative film with documentary elements; it’s a reflection on the documentary medium that uses the genre itself as a frame through which to consider its limits.
Break out the tissues: this month on the show Veronica and Chad are swapping a medley of their most memorable, formative movie scenes and moments.
In Irving Rapper’s Now, Voyager—as in all great Hollywood melodramas—gestures are charged with the force of things that cannot be, desires that can barely be spoken.
With a single cut between two nearly identical frames, we arrive at the turning point of Mildred Pierce—a moment of erotic fulfillment and desire realized.
When the faces merge in Persona, I see two people bound by loneliness and shame, to the point where they no longer understand who is who—two completely different people and disparate identities becoming one.