In true ‘90s underground trend, Dunye enlisted the photographer Zoe Leonard to produce an archive of the fictional actress and blues singer. The Fae Richards Photo Archive consists of 82 images, and was shown as part of Leonard’s career retrospective for the Whitney Museum of contemporary Artwork in 2018. This spirit of collaboration, along with the radical act of writing a Black and queer character into film history, is emblematic of a ‘90s arthouse cinema that wasn’t afraid to revolutionize the previous in order to create a more possible cinematic future.
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Even more acutely than either with the films Kieślowski would make next, “Blue” illustrates why none of us is ever truly alone (for better even worse), and then mines a powerful solace from the cosmic mystery of how we might all mesh together.
Established in Philadelphia, the film follows Dunye’s attempt to make a documentary about Fae Richards, a fictional Black actress from the 1930s whom Cheryl discovers playing a stereotypical mammy role. Struck by her beauty and yearning for the film history that displays someone who looks like her, Cheryl embarks with a journey that — while fictional — tellingly yields more fruit than the real Dunye’s ever had.
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Unspooling over a timeline that leads up to the show’s pilot, the film starts off depicting the FBI investigation into the murder of Teresa Banks (Pamela Gidley), a sexual intercourse worker who lived inside a trailer park, before pivoting to observe Laura during the week leading approximately her murder.
There He's dismayed via the state in the country as well as decay of his once-beloved national cinema. His picked out career — and his endearing instance on the importance of film — is largely achieved with bemusement by previous friends and relatives.
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1 night, the good Dr. Invoice Harford will be the same toothy and self-confident Tom Cruise who’d become the face of Hollywood itself in the ’90s. The next, he’s fighting back flop sweat as he gets lost within the liminal spaces that he used to stride right through; the liminal spaces between yesterday and tomorrow, public decorum and private decadence, affluent social-climbers along with the sinister ultra-rich they serve (masters of your universe who’ve fetishized their role within our plutocracy towards the point where they can’t even throw a straightforward orgy without turning it into a semi-ridiculous “Rest No More,” or get themselves off without putting the anxiety of God into an uninvited guest).
The dark has never been darker than it really is in “Lost Highway.” Actually, “inky” isn’t a strong enough descriptor phornhub to the starless desert nights and shadowy corners humming with staticky menace that make Lynch’s first official collaboration with novelist Barry Gifford (“Wild At Heart”) the most terrifying movie in his filmography. This is a “ghastly” black. An “antimatter” black. A black where monsters live.
But Makhmalbaf’s storytelling praxis is so patient and full of temerity that the film outgrows its verité-style portrait and becomes something mythopoetic. Like the allegory with the cave in Plato’s “Republic,” “The Apple” is ultimately an epistemological only fans porn tale — a timeless parable that distills the wonders of the liberated life. —NW
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“Saving Private Ryan” (dir. Steven Spielberg, 1998) With its bookending shots of a sun-kissed American flag billowing from the breeze, you wouldn’t be wrong to call “Saving Private Ryan” a propaganda film. (Perhaps that’s why just one particular master of controlling countrywide narratives, Xi Jinping, has said it’s amongst his favorite movies.) What sets it apart from other propaganda is that it’s not really about establishing the enemy — the first half of this unofficial diptych, “Schindler’s List,” certainly did that — but establishing what America might be. Steven Spielberg and screenwriter Robert Rodat crafted a loving, if somewhat naïve, tribute to the idea that the U.
Time seems to have stood still in this place with its black-and-white Tv set set and rotary phone, a couple of lonely pumpjacks groaning outside supplying the only sounds or movement for miles. (A “Make America Great Again” sticker within the back of a beat-up automobile is vaguely amusing but seems gratuitous, and it shakes us from the film’s foggy mood.)