Pretentious garbage enthusiast.
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“It’s a bit old fashioned for some, but I won’t do nothing to it.”
Fun and not much else. Ironically looses steam as it lets itself go. It really was up to something ‘til halfway through when it decides to drop its whole gender-conditioned demeaning suffocation study thing in service of some standard scares and cheeky formal shucks.
“It grows anywhere, like weeds.”
Minari is filmed like a memory. It’s on the riverbed of a carefully manufactured mise-en-scène that all the film’s sincere sentiment finds the force for its stream.
Funny, heart-rending and quite often, both at the same time. Chung’s film overflows with authenticity, from its honest performances and beautiful score to its story of losing your place in your family while looking for one in a new country.
The most American film of 2020.
“You can’t fake a thought.”
Unapologetic and authentic, marvelously dizzying, suffocating and hypnotic (thematically, visually and structurally). So, a Kaufman. But, with the difference that this one drops everything that’s not intrinsically ineffable and/or invisible.
Makes narrative its bitch even more so than any other of his films, which already seemed impossible. A stunning delirium like nothing else. Tells a story that didn’t even begin in the first place.