a.k.a The Diane Keaton movie...
An iconic piece of work laden with memorable quotes, Al Pacino's panache, garrote, eye-popping violence, treachery, loyalty, passions, sweat, blood, and tears. What else? There's a damn cute Kat...blah blah
Need I say more?
NO.
Unpopular Opinion since it's very late and I'm exhausted: 4 Stars so don't @me.
Bedsheets untucked, the curtains pulled as colors, scents and memories faded away before a person knew it. Even the inexpressible emotions he/she had once cherished drew back, retreating to some undiscovered province of forgotten territory, while his or her memories shaped-shifted with each shift they gradually became indistinct in color, vaguer than ever. Each layer was now unmistakably a layer built upon a layer of a shadow of a bigger shadow. What remained tangible and perceptible was the sense of…
I hate to go on ranting about this but how did a flashy, out of sync, lousily made music video get a nod for best picture? This just ain't it. Fantasy or not, I don't care because it shouldn't exist. For many great indies the Academy have blatantly shrugged off their shoulders, yet they sing praises for some toneless, dispassionate surface-level garbage helmed by a serial rapist. It's a shame but now here we are choked, baffled, beaten by frustrations. Seriously, this is what "no escape from reality" feels like and it's downright suffocating.
“People’s memories are maybe the fuel they burn to stay alive.” (Haruki Murakami)
An invisible tangerine is peeled, the key is to forget that it's not there. Stories are told through nebulous smoke. A naked body’s incinerated with orange hues fuming the air, and the echoes of bated breaths have remained deep in the bones. Burning revolves around a poor country boy Lee Jong-su, who claimed to be a writer yet not once do we ever see him write. Maybe…
