Films Weekly (Week 6)

Inside Llewyn Davis (2013) dir. Coen Brothers

The darkness that looms through this film is somewhat contrasting to what it tries to convey. It's nothing short of a masterpiece, another one from the Coens. They were big names from my childhood and it's truly a blessing that I reached this age to finally understand their language as filmmakers. The film had that similar film to their past projects: dark and harrowing, with stories from the past too complex to wrap your head around. The actors, as gracefully and as gallant as they can be, emitted something strangely good, as they take parts into these characters' life--clearly blurring the lines between actor and character. I did not for one second see the faces and auras of these people as personalities from the hollywood industry. They earmarked the start of a new standard of acting,and this story is too lucky to have these people act out the parts.

Tracks (2013) dir. John Curran

This film won't even make it to my list of cinematic projects, but it speaks so much to the people who are looking for something untroubled yet so drastic. The film takes on a low-energized stream of the story; it was lazy but you stay anyway because you need to know what happens next. What it lacks in cinematic magic, it makes up for the marvelous storytelling.

Architecture 101 (2012) dir. Yong-Joo Lee

this movie made me feel nothing but sadness to the core. It was simple, without the unnecessary shit. The story takes a turn on the right edges, and it was delightfully portrayed by the actors who seemed like the characters themselves, as they live through the words with pure, burgeoning emotion. This literally sent me to tears, with the director's genius popping out at the right places.

Leon (The Professional) 1994 dir. Luc Besson

It doesn't do so much about being the touchstone movie that reincarnated the amoral soul in everybody else, because the character himself a true-blue sentimental man of his own. He doesn't know it at first, but he is later on reminded of his true forms when he met a little girl who lived in this sordid apartment she shared with her dysfunctional "family". He is later on reminded of the struggles of having emotional attachment to something or someone, and the scenes that show us his slow act of giving in to emotions, no matter how he kept his face blank, is one of the most irrevocable sights in film. The innocence of the girl, which was violently snatched away from her, was awe-striking in a way that it was synonymized by her savage actions, relentlessly dictated by her vitriolic words. The film paved the way, I believe, for the new face of morality, deceit and the ferocious truth about killers: with judgment comes the actions you will eventually act out.

5 Centimeters Per Second (2007) dir. Makoto Shinkai

It's a simplistic way to remind us that impermanence will always cause us to be somewhere. It was short-lived, the movie, but it perfectly stated its one true goal and that is to show us the beauty of separation and indifference towards distance and the future. It was pure, heartbreaking yet refreshing in a way that it takes the audience. The cinematography brought the movie back to life in times of dead scenes; the sadness you may feel when you see the pain on the screen was redeemed by the extravagant colors. It makes the movie look as if it's picked up from a garden, once glorious with its colors but killed by the time that passed by but still have the glory reminiscent of the past.

Bridge of Spies (2015) dir. Steven Spielberg

Another film that glorifies the achievements of the whites when all the main character ever did was two bring back two Americans back to their country. It's a tiresome plot, believe me, and I still can't believe why no one is screaming of exhaustion. I do loved Tom Hanks acting here; it was logically put together, and he was well-meaning than ever. But to put this film on an artistic pedestal would mistreat other worthy films; it's a turn from Spielberg, yes, but it didn't so much than to compel me of the struggles of the ones living in Germany. I wasn't so much disheartened by the scenes that were supposed to make me feel something--it was trying hard, Spielberg was clearly pushing his belief that this would be of cultural value, when it wouldn't be so much as a showing off of privileges and its fake ability to earn attention. Perhaps the historical context would send the audience to a patriotic daze, but it was also disregarded in a sense that you can only see false adoration. I do respect the people involved in this story--the real ones--but the film was poorly produced that it seemed like a rushed work, gently reminding us that whites could easily earn respect by doing the simplest things.