Operatic, ambitious and theatrical. The film is presented as a stage-play, with the characters acting as manoeuvring pieces in a singular motionless setting. The characters movements are precise and intentional, similar to the operation of a stage. Tarkovsky has written dialogue that is both dramatic and poetic, that is delivered with patience from each actor. The shift of the setting reflects the progressive torture and agony the characters are undergoing. We are first introduced to a forest of tremendous space, filled with vibrant colours and surrounded by nature and life. As the news of danger approaches the characters, they are quickly compressed indoors inside a dark, almost ghoulish house, trapped with each other and their thoughts. Tarkovsky enables us to witness the way in which people cope and handle challenging and confronting situations, leading to desperation. Perhaps Tarkovsky is forcing his viewers to do the same.



Essentially a character study that focuses on a lonely and repellent man that offers us an abundance of reasons to feel loathsome towards him. The man's actions are driven by greed, lust and wealth, the very factors that lead to his demise. Sorrentino accentuates his desires in the film through the manipulation of imagery: money is represented as food as he considers it necessary and vital for his living, while women are represented as pieces of artworks, a visual feast for his personal enjoyment and pleasure. Though we may feel disdain for the man and his actions, our interest and intrigue grows to understand the nature of the man. Many of Sorrention's leading figures in his films are purposefully reserved and indirect in nature. Sorrentino intentionally restrains characteristics and qualities in his leading figures, allowing us as viewers to constantly speculate and comprehend the complexion of his characters. 

















A film that captures intense intimacy through both the characters and the audience. The narrative is condensed in the short time of 24 hours, with only 4 characters present at a singular setting. The secluded island situates the viewer at a personal position with the handful of characters we are presented with. Bergman invites us to watch and observe their conversations and interactions with each other, which are beautiful to witness. Subtle hand motions of physical contact has been used to express connection or disconnection. The use of stark shadows suggest uncertainty that surrounds the characters from their spiritual awakening and questioning. Bergman values intimacy above all: intimacy between characters in his films and intimacy between the audience and his films. 



It does not attempt to stray away from being a comical horror film, in fact, it embraces its campiness a lot. By not taking itself too seriously, the films campy and exaggerated tone plays to its advantage resulting in it being very charming and amusing. The camp nature of the film is accompanied with surreal and nightmarish imagery; this bizarre pairing perfectly demonstrates what an art-house horror film is capable of producing. The experimental use of visual effects throughout the film does an incredible job of enhancing the tone and atmosphere, as the visual characteristics and stylistic qualities bring so much character into the film. The film is constantly surprising you with its unusual narrative, outlandish characters and  inventively radical visual approach, ensuing for a unique adventure. 

Enter The Void (2009)
dir. Gaspar Noé

A completely exhilarating experience. Instantly you are rapidly exposed to the most lively title sequence through immense flickering and blinking, constantly flashing different typefaces, images and fluorescent colours that fill the entire screen. These fluorescent colours are carried over throughout the entire film, illuminating every scene that creates a beautifully eccentric atmosphere. The omniscient element is a tool utilised to force the audience to confront the film in its most intimate form, inviting the audience to become intrusive throughout the film. The wild, yet tranquil ambience of the film is abruptly interrupted by constant flashbacks, which I find to be one of the more beautiful scattered fragments throughout the film.



Yet another gem from Woody. The newest addition to Woody's extensive list of fascinating female characters  is Cate Blanchett, in the form of Jasmine, a New York socialite propelled to a foreign and challenging new lifestyle. The narrative structure accompanied with Woody's innate ability to write his classical style of dialogue accentuates the interplay between romanticism and cynicism in his characters. With the rich golden colour scheme maintained throughout the film highlighting Jasmine's bold, wealthy and exuberant persona. Blanchett does not hold back with her performance, not one second will she lose the grip of your focus, having the power to grasp your attention with a simple and silent gaze. Many of Woody's women in his films play a continuous game of hiding and revealing inner pieces of themselves to the audience - Jasmine being his most captivating to date.


A film that acts as a capsule of simple human interaction for three women in their own distinct stories. As we are introduced to each of the three characters together in a singular event in random points in their lives, it allows us to quickly realise that it is almost as if these three women were picked in an arbitrary manner. By focusing on only  small portion of their lives, writer/director Shira Geffen illustrates the idea that these moments that pass by these characters in an instant are journeys of their own. Journeys that have positioned them to face their own challenges they must overcome. These challenged are aided with strangers, friends and lovers that exemplify the significance of human connection. This capsule of human connection takes the form of a vessel for each of the characters, and just like their own individual journey, this vessel is inconsequential but paramount at the same time. 

Geffen demonstrates that just like a vessel, the journeys that we take in our lives will either sink or sail, only to be determined by the one who steers the vessel. 


Told incredibly restrained and unostentatious, the film centres on a singular meeting by chance between Hamza and two orphans boys named Adis and Kerim. Set in the city of Sarajevo, placing the siege of '92-'96 as the films backdrop. The dialogue throughout the film is filled with queries, subtly questioning the essence of war and conflict, and while at times very simplistic questions are asked, other times, they are unanswerable and are left only with a question of thought. Much like other films that evolve through chance encounters, the film gradually reveals the way in which their interactions together unveil the significance of reciprocity in which their relationship is bound upon. Kenović guides this narrative through the fantastic collaborative work from Milenko Uherka (cinematography) & Kemal Hrustanović (set designer), and of course the poetic words and verses from Abdulah Sidran. 


As grounded as a majority of the film is, through the dream sequences, in traditional Lynch style, there are still elements of surrealism that Lynch has intertwined throughout the narrative. Evocative imagery is formed through Freddie Francis' beautiful black and white photography and Lynch's use of the dissolve and fade technique. Spewing with phenomenal performances that convinces the audience that John Merrick and Frederick Treves were real people in the real world. A truly superb achievement from Christopher Tucker who constructed the elephant man physically, allowing Hurt to develop him emotionally. Roger Ebert criticised the film by stating he was merely "drawing blanks" in trying to figure out what the film was trying to say about the human condition. Ebert may have missed the simplicity of Merrick's story, rather than separating him and probing for anything existential ideas or an answer for the meaning of life - we must take it just as another persons story. 


A unique narrative experience that will leave you completely lost throughout the bewildering first act. What follows after left me conflicted with two thoughts - a startling feeling of fright in seeing the story steer towards a direction I had not expected, but also a slight feeling of awe for providing the last few pieces to complete the whole puzzle. José Luis Alcaine (cinematography) beautifully translates Almodóvar's vision, as he describes it as "a horror story without screams or frights". Almodóvar does not hold back with visual symbolism throughout the film, though not so subtle, they are nevertheless still a visual treat that exemplifies the ideas he is exploring. This marks the sixth film of the partnership between Banderas and Almodóvar, proving yet again that this duo can do no wrong working together. 


Dreyer quickly establishes an eerie atmosphere not only in the introductory scenes, but also in the opening credits sequence through the relationship between the music and the image. Composer Wolfgang Zeller has structured the music in a manner in which the mood and disposition shifts seamlessly from scene to scene. Zeller's powerfully majestic music is accompanied with the steady and undemanding movement of the camera, revealing subjects to the viewer in a sedated manner. The minimal dialogue and almost complete absence of diegetic sound throughout the film exemplifies the ghostly and preternatural presence felt on screen, allowing the actions, expressions and surroundings of the characters to guide the narrative. Dreyer and Christen Jul have constructed a narrative that can only be described by borrowing from the opening narration, it is a tale that ultimately illustrates how "the line between the real and the supernatural became blurred".


An insightful peer into the filmmaking process in all its times of both buoyant and apathetic moments. From the personal affairs of the cast and crew, to the business procedures behind the scenes - Truffaut presents the common concerns and problems that arise from film production. Throughout the production of the film, you quickly realise the value of having both a creative and business acumen when developing a project in the scale of a film. A recognition that filmmaking is ultimately a collaborative art form, illustrating the importance of a constituent establishment. By structuring the film's narrative to form the entire set production, Truffaut has exhibited the many endeavours of filmmaking, allowing audiences not only to comprehend the process, but also to develop an appreciation for it. 
Thrusted into a peculiar opening, that through the cessation of the film, as a viewer you realise it's significance in understanding the films essential meaning. Denis Lavant magnificently carries the film with his singular performance as Monsieur Oscar, a character that is a performer himself, that stages 9 illusory acts in the duration of one day. With the progress of each appointment throughout the day, Oscar's performances develop from a mere facade to the contrary last few appointments that are revealed to be manifested but seemingly substantial lives. Carax allows, or rather, forces the viewer to place themselves in reverie, getting lost and absorbing the dream. A reflection of the hypnotic experience from a performance, a critique of the realism of staging and perhaps Carax's personal study of the art of acting. 
The first 30 mins intends to set up the film, but Miike has skilfully tricked the viewer as it is only in the first arrival of Asami Yamazaki is when the narrative has truly commenced. The second Asami is introduced, the film's atmosphere shifts into a much calmer ambiance. Her poised physicality & placid disposition is reflected in the scene, as the cameras movement & frame arrangement mirrors her stillness & stolid nature. She is subtly carried over throughout the entire film as her mysterious & eerie presence is felt in scenes she is not present in. Screenplay writers Rya Murakami & Daisuke Tengan reveals one of the most perplexing third acts I have ever seen. It presents the the idea that desperation constructs illusion & only pain can bring back reality. 
Korine always favours the art of realism. The film portrays very confronting and graphic environments and characters that evoke a sense of honesty. I am always in awe with the way in which Korine, not necessarily appreciates, though he very clearly does, but, is simply fascinated with the every day mundane life. The film's narrative is perplexing, like a collage of a series of interesting pieces bound together. These pieces of narrative feel very grounded, and are not romantisized because they don't need to be. In all his work, Korine explores everything to do with youth. He is an auteur that focuses on youth in a visceral manner through fascination rather than exploring it logically. As a side note, Chloë Sevigny is fucking brilliant in this (and in anything she does). Her performance and her costume design is enchanting. I am always saddened Korine had not worked with Sevigny more during the '90s. She could have been his Anna Karina or Diane Keaton.
Taretto expresses his patent adulation for Woody Allen through the absolutely beautiful opening sequence that is very reminiscent of the opening sequence in Allen's 'Manhattan'. The film itself is even watched by Martín and Mariana at one point in the film. Just as Woody has done with New York, Taretto has personified the city of Buenos Aires, illuminating the city's architecture, accentuating it's alluring presence throughout the film. A very simplistic narrative that centres around Martín and Mariana - alienated individuals that yearn for something unembellished and honest. I found the solitariness of both characters and the secluded nature of the film incredibly endearing, echoing this isolated tone from the likes of Lost in Translation and Magnolia. 
I think it's only appropriate for me to begin with talking about the brilliance of Peter Sellers. If it were not for my lecturer to reveal that a singular actor had actually performed three roles in the film, I might have not noticed. Sellers performances, for me personally, was a strong driving force in the narrative. Ken Adams (Production Design) illustrated a definite depiction of all the environments, particularly with the War Room - utilising space and low key lighting together to produce a visual achievement, making every War Room scene a delight to watch. This is of course accompanied with the comical nature of the film, effectively employing ironic dialogue and imagery throughout the film. Undoubtedly, the most iconic example of this is universally acknowledged as the quote - "Gentlemen, you can't fight in here! This is the War Room."
Immediately, as a viewer you are pulled right into the mind of Titta di Girolamo, the films authoritative narrative vehicle, yet interestingly, his true disposition remains foreign to the viewer. A grand achievement throughout the entire film is the relationship between two elements: cinematography and decor. Luca Bigazzi (cinematography) and Lino Fiorito (production design) have defined the overall tenor of the film by utilising each element to evoke a perplexing narrative, leading to ongoing questioning. The fluid movement of the camera and the characters is another accomplishment, very subtle and light that accentuated this sense of abstruseness. 
Masterful blend of psychological tension and celebrity obsession in a Hitchcockian style. Kon Satoshi invites us into Mima's life, filled with fan adoration and  ethical decisions. A confronting but brutally honest portrayal of celebrity culture and it's powerful influence in contemporary society. I was completely captivated as the story unfolded, but at the same time, with each fold opening, it would close again three more times.  I was no longer a viewer, but an investigator. An apparent motif in the film is reflections, and perhaps Kon himself was mirroring the society and culture he noticed around him.

As soon as the film ends, an immediate second viewing is absolutely necessary. 


Yet another Jeunet film, filled with unusual characters in an unusual world. The uncanny and anomalous nature of this film feels very familiar, in the sense that it portrays Jeunet's unique vision. From the bizzare angles to the expressive faces, all the ingredients are evident for another charming Jeunet film. I must express my praise to Pierre-Jacques Bénichou who has been Jeunet's casting director for a majority of his films. He's done yet another brilliant job with this film, casting actors such as Marie-Laure Dougnac, Karin Viard and of course bringing back frequent collaborators of Jeunet, Ticky Holgado, Jean-Claude Dreyfus, and of course, it wouldn't be complete without the wonderfully amusing performance from Dominique Pinon.