occasional filmmaker, currently pursuing an MA in Cinema Studies at Brooklyn College
logging sporadically
a house haunted by the ghosts of human capital. such an exhaustively unsettling, horrifying atmosphere...claustrophobic dimensions of space but also time- the final scene of course, but also all those brief moments throughout that begin and are then returned to. so much dread...guy behind me kept going "oh god" and buddy me too. literally put my hand over my eyes and peeked through my fingers during a couple scenes. truly relieved when it ended.
the movement on the yacht when Hayworth passes Welles a cigarette to light, then he hands it to Glenn Anders who lights it and passes it back to Hayworth.....my god
A masterpiece of the highest order. An absolute meltdown of a film, equally horrified of the menace it conjures and psychotically thrilled by the possibility of it all. Spielberg seems to gather every theme he’s ever explored, shred their insides, and spray their residue all over the earth in a red mist. Along with this comes what feels like some of the sharpest, most precise formalism of his career. Starting with the opening montage there is an efficiency to this…
20% macbeth, 80% dutch angles. credits have special thanks given to Hugo Boss, Red Bull, and a company called Funk Sunglasses