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Some are inspiring and believed-provoking, others are romantic, funny and just plain entertaining. But they all have one thing in typical: You shouldn’t miss them.
“The top of Evangelion” was ultimately not the top of “Evangelion” (not even close), but that’s only because it allowed the collection and its creator to zoom out and out and out until they could each see themselves starting over. —DE
The timelessness of “Central Station,” a film that betrays none of the mawkishness that elevated so much in the ’90s middlebrow feel-good fare, is often owed to how deftly the script earns the bond that sorts between its mismatched characters, And just how lovingly it tends for the vulnerabilities they expose in each other. The ease with which Dora rests her head on Josué’s lap inside a poignant scene suggests that whatever twist of destiny brought this pair together under such trying circumstances was looking out for them both.
A married gentleman falling in love with another man was considered scandalous and potentially career-decimating movie fare in the early ’80s. This unconventional (within the time) love triangle featuring Charlie’s Angels
Scorsese’s filmmaking has never been more operatic and powerful because it grapples with the paradoxes of dreadful Guys along with the profound desires that compel them to accomplish dreadful things. Needless to mention, De Niro is terrifically cruel as Jimmy “The Gent” Conway and Pesci does his best work, but Liotta — who just died this year — is so spot-on that it’s hard not to think about what might’ve been had Scorsese/Liotta Crime Movie become a thing, too. RIP. —EK
Played by Rosario Bléfari, Silvia feels like a ’90s incarnation of aimless 20-something women like Frances Ha or Julie from “The Worst Particular person in the World,” tinged with Rejtman’s usual brand of dry humor. When our heroine learns that another woman shares her name, it prompts an id crisis of sorts, prompting her to curl her hair, don fake nails, and wear remaxhd a fur coat into a meeting interracial porn arranged between The 2.
These days, it might be hard to different Werner Herzog from the meme-driven caricature that he’s cultivated Considering that the achievements of “Grizzly Man” — his deadpan voice, his love of Baby Yoda, his droll insistence that a chicken’s eyes betray “a bottomless stupidity, a fiendish stupidity… that they tend to be the most horrifying, cannibalistic, and nightmarish creatures in the world.
(They do, however, steal one of the most famous images ever from one of several greatest horror movies ever inside of a scene involving an axe and a bathroom door.) And while “The Boy Behind the Door” runs away from steam a tiny bit during the third act, it’s mostly a tight, well-paced thriller with terrific central performances from a couple of young actors with bright futures ahead of them—once they get away from here, that is.
Gus Van Sant’s gloriously unfortunate road movie borrows from the worlds of english blue film creator John Rechy and even the director’s personal “Mala Noche” in sketching the humanity behind trick-turning, closeted street hustlers who share an ineffable spark during the darkness. The film underscored the already evident talents of its two leads, River Phoenix and Keanu Reeves, while also giving us all many a reason to swoon over their indie heartthrob status.
You might love it for the whip-wise screenplay, which gained Callie Khouri an Academy Award. Or maybe for that chemistry between its two leads, because Susan Sarandon and Geena Davis couldn’t have been better cast as Louise, a jaded waitress and her friend Thelma, a naive housewife, whose worlds are turned upside down during a weekend girls’ trip when Louise fatally shoots a person trying to rape Thelma outside a dance hall.
The second part of your movie is so iconic that people have a tendency to snooze over the first, but The dearth of overlap shesfreaky between them makes it easy to forget that neither would be so electrifying without the other. ”Chungking Categorical” demands both of its uneven halves to forge a complete portrait of the city in which people may be close enough to feel like home but still much too significantly away to touch. Still, there’s a rationale why the ultra-shy connection that blossoms between Tony Leung’s beat cop and Faye Wong’s proto-Amélie manic pixie dream waitress became Wong’s signature love story.
From that rich premise, “Walking and Talking” churns into a characteristically small-essential but razor-sharp drama about the complexity of women’s inner lives, as The author-director brings such deep oceans of feminine specificity to her dueling heroines (and their palpable display chemistry) that her sexxxxx attention can’t help but cascade down onto her male characters as well.