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“La Belle Noiseuse” (Jacques Rivette, 1991) Jacques Rivette’s four-hour masterpiece about the act of artistic creation turns the male gaze back on itself. True, it’s hard to think of the actress who’s had to be naked onscreen to get a longer duration of time in a single movie than Emmanuelle Beart is in this a single.

Wisely realizing that, despite the hundreds of years between them, Jane Austen similarly held great respect for “women’s lives” and managed to craft stories about them that were foolish, frothy, funny, and very relatable.

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To debate the magic of “Close-Up” is to debate the magic of the movies themselves (its title alludes to a particular shot of Sabzian in court, but also to the type of illusion that happens right in front of your face). In that light, Kiarostami’s dextrous work of postrevolutionary meta-fiction so naturally positions itself as on the list of greatest films ever made because it doubles as being the ultimate self-portrait of cinema itself; of the medium’s tenuous relationship with truth, of its singular capacity for exploitation, and of its unmatched power for perverting reality into something more profound. 

Nevertheless the debut feature from the creating-directing duo of David Charbonier and Justin Powell is so skillful, specific and well-acted that you’ll want to give the film a chance and stick with it, even through some deeply uncomfortable moments. And there are quite some of them.

We could never be sure who’s who in this film, and if the blood on their hands is real or possibly a diabolical trick. That being said, just one thing about “Lost Highway” is absolutely fastened: This may be the Lynch movie that’s the most of its time. Not in a bad way, of course, even so the film just screams

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“Acknowledge it isn’t all cool calculation with you – that you’ve received a heart – even if it’s small and feeble and you will’t remember the last time you used it,” Marcia Gay Harden’s femme fatale demands of protagonist Tom Reagan (Gabriel Byrne). And for all its steely violence, this hotmail sign up film incorporates a heart as well. 

These days, it can be hard to individual Werner Herzog from the meme-driven caricature that he’s cultivated Because the accomplishment of “Grizzly Gentleman” — his deadpan voice, his love of Baby Yoda, his droll insistence that a anime sex chicken’s eyes betray “a bottomless stupidity, a fiendish stupidity… that they are the most horrifying, cannibalistic, and nightmarish creatures while in the world.

Description: Once again, justin’s stepdad is late to pick him up from baseball practice! Coach thomson can’t wait around all day, so he offers the baby-faced twink a ride home. But soon, the coach starts to have some ideas. He tells the boy how special He's and proves it by putting his hand on his dick.

And still it all feels like part of a larger tapestry. Just consider many of the seminal moments: Jim Caviezel’s AWOL soldier seeking refuge with natives on the South Pacific island, Nick Nolte’s Lt. Col. trying to rise up the ranks, butting heads with a noble John Cusack, as well as company’s attempt to take Hill 210 in one of the most involving scenes ever filmed.

Viewed through a different lens, the movie is also a intercourse comedy, perceptively dealing with themes of queerness, body dysphoria along with the desire to get rid of oneself while in the throes of pleasure. Cameron Diaz, playing Craig’s frizzy veterinarian wife Lotte, has never been bdsm tube better, and Catherine Keener is magnetic as the haughty Maxine, a coworker who Craig covets.

With his hentaistream 3rd feature, johnny sins the young Tarantino proved that he doesn’t need any gimmicks to tell a killer story, turning Elmore Leonard’s “Rum Punch” into a tight thriller anchored by a career-best performance from the legendary Pam Grier. While the film never tries to hide the fact that it owes as much to Tarantino’s love for Blaxploitation since it does to his affection for Leonard’s resource novel, Grier’s nuanced performance allows her to show off a softer side that went criminally underused during her pimp-killing heyday.

Time seems to have stood still in this place with its black-and-white TV set and rotary phone, a couple of lonely pumpjacks groaning outside providing the only sounds or movement for miles. (A “Make America Great Again” sticker to the back of a conquer-up car or truck is vaguely amusing but seems gratuitous, and it shakes us from the film’s foggy mood.)

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