The coldness of an ascending order rank, or is it descending? A pastime of listing, where personal satisfaction outweighs any relevance. IT’S NOT ABOUT YOU MR REVIEWER. There are too many ideas, and not enough talent. Bong Joon Ho made an entire movie and you wrote an eight-hundred-word article explaining it. I’m deleting all of this. If a writer deletes his work in the woods, was the work ever there? Hot take: there are good films and bad films. Orange, blue, pink, violet. And there are other films, the ones that mean something to you, the ones that transport you to a void of personal gratification. Now to fight through the snow of endless agonising hypocritical minutia.
Two separate dreams about actor Adam Driver:
- Somewhere along the French Riviera, except the topography is disjointed. An extended family are holidaying in the summer, and they are joined by a new member – American actor Adam Driver. He’s somehow managed to end up dating an aunt or a cousin of our narrator, who is of course a massive fan. The narrator is the guide for the trip, and he wants Driver to like him, so much so that he is scared to do or say anything wrong. It’s an anxious chess game of trying to be cool.
- Memory loss.
A film about creativity in everyday life, contentment to return home to the one person you love the most. Simply living and breathing, instead of chasing something that does not exist.
UPSTREAM COLOR (2013)
The water before you is somehow special, it is better than anything you have ever tasted, each drink is better than the last, take a drink now. With extreme precision, a minuscule bug is crawling through a vein like it is going backwards up a waterslide. It’s quenching its first. Push away, come close, small kiss, intense embrace, the beginnings of explanations destroyed under the pressures of a countertop. Their hair is almost the same length, connected in a masterplan of irrelevant stakes that is too much to handle. All roads lead to the bath.
A film about control over your path, about the chemistry behind love and attraction. The end result a twisted fate of wrapping yourself up as warm as you can, to prepare for the disappointing answer.
A GHOST STORY (2017)
Being immortal is a great privilege, said the joker to the thief. Twenty-one is a quarter done already, but those first ten didn’t count, right? That is such a selfish notion when you are surrounded by spectres every way that you turn. Imagine the amount of death floating around you in a city apartment building. It’s either comforting or disturbing, and what of memory acting as reality? If you close your eyes and see a loved one’s hand can you reach out and grab it? Too many questions, and that is why it has made it here.
A film about losing the only true connection you have in the world. The only thing you have left are the images of all sides of them, sweet and ugly, hovering over you.
RUBY SPARKS (2012)
Joy! Sunshine gleaming down onto this fucking graveyard. Zoe Kazan’s doting and critical words that do not embark into cringe. Writing! The death of the author, postmodernism, all that jazz. Selfishness and the old ego are hard to ignore with this one. The enjoyment comes from reflection, and the fading romanticism of growing to a point of no return. Pragmaticism must be respected, as tall as the mountain might seem. This whole thing clearly cannot get past the summit.
A film about seeking perfection in life and art, where leaping just far enough will grant you enough enchantment to keep you hopeful that it’s not all numbers, and biology.
‘Poetry in translation is like taking a shower with a raincoat on,’ – Masatoshi Nagase, as the Japanese poet, in Paterson.