#Duel links vivid knight movie

Then the arrival of a letter and the secrets it brings to light from the past disrupt this longstanding union. We’re introduced to this couple and quickly are convinced of their marriage’s strength and love. The story of an aging couple and the week leading up to their 45th anniversary, it has all the ingredients for middlebrow fare, and yet Haigh’s direction is subtle, and incisive, bolstered by pitch-perfect performances from its leads Charlotte Rampling and Tom Courtenay. From the outside it appears a middling British drama. I heard good things about the director’s previous film, Weekend (2011), but this is my first encounter. Viewed early in the fest, this one has resonated with me in the ensuing days, even as I begin to overdose on cinematic consumption. The overlap in our festival schedule makes for few films that only one of us see, but I have a leg up on you with 45 Years by Andrew Haigh. I’ll leave my thoughts for that piece, if I may. I had a brief but insightful talk with Alex Ross Perry that I’ll publish after the Berlinale. I’m so glad you liked Queen of Earth, which I greatly admire. Here’s hoping we’re able to schedule a sit-down in the busy last stretch of the festival. We’re both unfamiliar with his work, but after the credits rolled for Memories of Underdevelopment, we were so enchanted that we immediately decided to reach out for an interview. We sat next to each other, Danny, and several times, we looked at each other in utter delight and surprise at what was happening on screen, such inexplicable and whimsical beauty! Karaoke history lessons, digressions on Filipino art, and the overwhelmingly lovely and warm personality of the film’s director, which is present in every line of narration, every edit, every shot choice! And how exciting is it to have a chance to meet this man. The film that he shot 35 years ago is completely transformed by the context of this project, yet the images possess a power within their original narrative trajectory as well as a new level, which plunges into colonial history with, at once, a nonchalance, a didacticism, an urgency, and a playfulness. The new footage is cheaply shot on digital video (a caption at one point in the film reads: “Desperately Seeking to Correct History (Without a Tripod),” and its rawness may certainly turn people off, but the way Tahimik has assembled everything here is really special, as impressive a formal feat I've seen realized in recent memory. Now he has taken some of the scenes, added narration that describes what happens in them, and weaves this into a exhilarating freeform doc-fiction piece, that may be the most exciting opening up of narrative possibilities since Mariano Llinás’ inimitable Extraordinary Stories (2008). Over 30 years ago, Tahimik set out to make a film about Ferdinand Magellan's slave, Enrique of Malacca, but was unable to release and/or finish it.

#Duel links vivid knight movie

Indeed Tahimik's movie itself is a work that discovers film and appropriates it to new meanings.

The scene, shot on Super 8 (?) follows mysterious costumed figures as they uncover canisters of celluloid buried in the ground. My mood pivoted from low to high as quickly as the first sequence of Filipino Kidlat Tahimik’s infectious film, Balikbayan #1 Memories of Overdevelopment Redux III, unfolded. The screening made me feel awful, and I left in a horrible mood-but low and behold I was rescued by a masterpiece.

Late in the film, a violent moment is filmed in such a way that the action of the cut and in the frame are one, making Larraín a seemingly eager accomplice to the character’s horrid behaviour. The film’s unpleasant content aside, it’s how Larraín uses his camera and creates a tone that feels so contemptuous of people. We soon discover they’re pedophiles after a drunk man shows up at the home and belligerently berates one of the newest inductees into this “club” of repenting sinners, describing the sexual abuse he faced as a boy in vivid and repulsive detail. Each of the men have sinful pasts and secrets to hide. The film is about a group of priests, banished by the church to a sort of holy halfway home. Where No was invested in people, The Club takes on a very heavy topic with a level of disdain that left me feeling cold. Unfortunately, this film was entirely different, not just in style, but in its relationship to its subject matter, its characters, the world. I was keen on this one as his last film, No (2012), was superb (I recall the mysterious Celluloid Liberation Front wrote on it for us from Cannes). You and I went to see the press screening of Chilean director Pablo Larraín’s new film, The Club.

How silly is it that, as cinephiles, our happiness is so bound up with the films we watch? My mood fluctuates at festivals, often based on what film I watched last. Balikbayan #1 Memories of Overdevelopment Redux III