Contributor Addie Glickstein sits down with Alex Ross Perry to discuss his beginnings, movie-watching, and New York City.
A film like Claire’s Knee is not merely a circus of irony, a spectacle of negative energy: clearly one must take some sort of base enjoyment in the lengthy, digressive musings of Rohmer’s characters that is not reducible to scoffing at their myopia.
Adulthood, one gathers, is the process of becoming one’s self, of shedding pretend play and impossible dreams in exchange for a fuller sense of self-recognition.
In both Gainsbourg and Birkin’s films, female characters dismantle structures that are commonly criticized in feminist film theory, but often they go even further.
Crotty is far less interested in exploring military service than the sexual limbo and interpersonal complications it necessitates.
The deep tragedy of the film is Adriana's inability to anchor herself to anything concrete or stable that would secure her investment in being a part of this world.
Whereas Sternberg’s need to make his settings emphatically real on the surface level obstructs a genuine feeling of reality, Dietrich’s characters are so fictitiously composed that even the slightest breach feels like penetrating into the core of human emotion.
Day of Wrath can be read as an account of the panic that ensues when marginalized individuals actively seek agency—a threat to established power remedied with vehement accusations, forced confessions and, ultimately, death.
Gondry seems to conclude that when we watch animation we are more conscious of the effort it took to create (and therefore of the presence of the artist) than when we watch live-action film. He’s not wrong.
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.