The film is essentially a salute to silent film, featuring a pristine, romanticized fabrication of pre-war France; the sense of wistfully recollecting bygone days is even stronger when viewed today.
This year's Double Exposure poll was the most diverse we ever had. Save three, each contributor had a different vote for the best film of 2015. Below are the tabulated results as well as some thoughts from our contributors on their top film.
In this video essay, Alex Robertson discusses the unique blend of audience empathy and visual absorption offered in My Little Loves, the final feature by French master Jean Eustache.
These men haven’t just met the devil, they have become the devil, and they're here to tell you so until you’ve become absolutely sick of it.
The sustained effort to run out the clock eventually becomes unignorable--there's only so much you can do with half a story.
The film's plainness affords it an effortless grace, a touch perfectly attuned to the brave new world of a Japan suddenly flung onto a stage of international modernity.
Pan is a reminder that our adoption of Peter Pan into pop culture as a hero precisely for his “escaping adulthood” is a purposefully watered-down reading of the character.
Through his observation of small moments, tender and heartbreaking both, Satyajit Ray has made the story of one young man feel like that of humanity entire.
The film at its best can evoke both nostalgic beauty and goth-y horror at the same time. If something’s crumbling, after all, what happened to the people who were supposed to take care of it?
The transition from the details of the climb to the abstract themes being discussed is seamless, which enhances the significance of both threads of the film.
Zemeckis' lesser known films provide a context for the director’s consistent style—as well as that style's consistent variability.