Thomas Harris's 1988 novel is one of the best page-turners I've ever read—but it's just that, a page-turner par excellence. Jonathan Demme's 1991 adaptation elevates the material to the level of cinematic artistry through the director's highly subjective take. This is a film about seeing and being seen, and all the danger that entails. Of course, Demme was not alone in his endeavor: there's Tak Fujimoto's exquisite close-ups, Howard Shore's lush score, and Jodie Foster's steely determination.
First viewing since the year of its release as I prep for "The Falcon and the Winter Soldier," and it's still one of my preferred MCU entries. Stray observations in 2021: fun to see Chad Stahelski and David Leitch's names pop up in the credits, even if the cutting remains too fast to truly appreciate their action design (no doubt to hide the copious use of stunt doubles); the quieter moments with Wanda and Vision play better for me now…
The film opens with Superman's primal scream of agony reverberating throughout the universe—somehow a potent metaphor for the grief Zack Snyder has no doubt experienced these last few years. In what seems like another lifetime now, I wrote that the theatrical cut of "Justice League" possessed 'enough Snyder-esque DNA to make me wonder about the movie we could have gotten'; the fact that 'the movie we could have gotten' is finally here seems a small miracle, such that I found…
"You don't know how good a friend you got."
A late career masterwork from director Martin Scorsese, "The Irishman" is a film that encompasses many things—Shakespearean tragedy writ large, secret backroom history of the second half of the American 20th century—but on one level I'm simply thrilled we've been granted a story this dense, this meaningful on the subject of male friendship.