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Considering the plethora of podcasts that really encourage us to welcome brutal murderers into our earbuds each week (And just how eager many of us are to do so), it might be hard to imagine a time when serial killers were a truly taboo subject. In many ways, we have “The Silence on the Lambs” to thank for that paradigm shift. Jonathan Demme’s film did as much to humanize depraved criminals as any piece of modern day artwork, thanks in large part to the chillingly magnetic performance from Anthony Hopkins.
Charbonier and Powell accomplish a good deal with a little, making the most of their small budget and single area and exploring every sq. foot of it for maximum tension. They establish a foreboding mood early, and efficiently tell us just enough about these Children and their friendship to make just how they fight for each other feel not just believable but substantial.
Although the debut feature from the crafting-directing duo of David Charbonier and Justin Powell is so skillful, specific and well-acted that you’ll want to give the film a chance and stick with it, even through some deeply uncomfortable moments. And there are quite several of them.
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William Munny was a thief and murderer of “notoriously vicious and intemperate disposition.” But he reformed and settled into a life of peace. He takes a single last position: to avenge a woman who’d been assaulted and mutilated. Her attacker has been given cover with the tyrannical sheriff of the small town (Gene Hackman), who’s so established to “civilize” the untamed landscape in his individual way (“I’m building a house,” he repeatedly declares) he lets all kinds of injustices happen on his watch, so long as his own power is mature nl safe. What would be to be done about someone like that?
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” He may be a foreigner, but this is a world he knows like the back of his hand: Major guns. Brutish men. Sensitive-looking girls who harbor more power than you could perhaps imagine. And binding them all together is a sense that the most beautiful things in life aren’t meant for us to keep or include. Whether a houseplant or maybe a troubled kid with a bright future, if you love something you have to Permit it grow. —DE
this fantastical take on Elton John’s story doesn’t straight-clean its subject’s sex life. Pair it with 1998’s Velvet Goldmine
An 188-moment movie without a second out of place, “Magnolia” could be the byproduct of bloodshot egomania; it’s endowed with a wild arrogance that starts from its roots and grows like a tumor until God shows up and it feels like they’re just another member on the mistress t cast. And thank heavens that someone
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Hayao Miyazaki’s environmental nervousness has been on full display due to the fact before Studio Ghibli was even born (1984’s “Nausicaä from the Valley in the Wind” predated the animation powerhouse, even since it planted the seeds for outdoor sex Ghibli’s future), but it really wasn’t until “Princess Mononoke” that he instantly asked the problem that percolates beneath all of his work: How would you hot schedules live with dignity within an irredeemably cursed world?