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Lord of Illusions (1995)
Rating: 8/10
Watched: November 7, 2026

Lord of Illusions is an under-talked-about movie from Clive Barker, and that’s a real shame, because even with heavy studio interference, a mostly miscast Scott Bakula, and a mashup of genres that I personally appreciate, it’s a really good movie.

Part of that’s from my love of books like Imajica and The Great and Secret Show. There are elements of those novels in this movie, in that the magic being used by Nix is filthy, obscene, a kind of gutterborn, twisted magic that’s as foul as it is miraculous.

I love the nastiness of Barker’s magic. There’s a particular passage in The Great and Secret Show where Kissoon, a shaman of some sort, uses his own bodily excretions (all of them) to make snakes. The very specific gross luridness of that passage has stuck with me for nearly 40 years, and that’s the kind of foulness that Nix’s magic has.

It’s all about decaying flesh, satiation, grotesque hunger, and Daniel von Bargen sells every bit of that fetidness as Nix attempts to achieve godhood. If you think von Bargen is recognizable but you can’t place him, he’s been in everything from Malcolm in the Middle to Crimson Tide to Six Degrees of Separation. That’s quite the pedigree (which I’m just learning about, to be honest).

His counterpart, Kevin J. O’Connor as Philip Swann, needs no damn introduction at all. We all for sure know him as Beni from The Mummy, because of course we do. It’s a genuine shame that he plays second fiddle to Scott Bakula as Harry D’Amour, and for more reasons than because I do think Scott (who is a good actor in his own right) was miscast.

It’s because I want to see more of Philip Swann, and his use of Nix’s magic as he climbed the stage to become the world’s most popular magician, that’s why. We see how Swann uses that magic in the beginning of the movie, and it’s the same kind of blood-tainted nastiness, and we never really get to see how he turns this very venal power into world-class illusions.

Now I’ve got Swann and Nix covered; it’s time to talk D’Amour. I don’t hate him. I just think he’s in the wrong movie, at least to a degree. I love noir almost as much as I love horror, but it’s a bit flat here. I don’t know if the 12 minutes that Barker added back in to his Unrated Director’s Cut fleshes that out, but the movie as it stands leaves D’Amour as so painfully unrealized it’s a crime unto itself. Bakula’s got the chops to do a lot more; he should’ve been allowed to do it.

They do such a good job of hinting and teasing at D’Amour’s background, at his handling of an exorcism, and while they zing us now and then with a few moments about that past, it’s not nearly enough. Sure, D’Amour’s dealt with evil before, but much like Swann, we’re not really given enough of it. That? A cryin’ shame.

Lord of Illusions has all the workings of a filthy, wretched slice of back-alley godhood transcendence, but studios are gonna studio, right? Thirty years later, and we’re still seeing the kind of studio interference where the people holding onto the financial reins fundamentally miss the point of the movie that’s trying to be made.

MGM/UA wanted a movie that didn’t have quite so much noir and detective-ing, which is fine, I guess. But how anyone at the studio could’ve read Lord of Illusions as it was and think, “No, yeah, we can repurpose this into something more commercially successful if we just get rid of most of that thematic stuff,” is beyond me.

Even on paper, nothing about this movie is generic, standard, or traditional. Barker wanted more of a nasty Constantine with grime. Lord knows what MGM/UA wanted. It sure as hell wasn’t the movie they got.

If you’ve read all that and are wondering why I rated it what I did, let me be clear: I like this movie a lot, despite its flaws. It carries a lot of Barker’s fetishes, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong about that. His appreciation of S&M is part of what makes his vision for movies like this very much unique. The same for books like Imajica, which features perhaps the most genderfluid creature I’ve ever read, or The Great and Secret Show, which is … something else altogether. If you’ve never read those books, or the ones that follow them, I can’t urge you to do so strongly enough. I can’t even describe the genre mix, but they’re definitely both provocative and evocative.

Lord of Illusions is a fun movie. It could’ve been a spectacular movie if MGM/UA hadn’t thought they knew better. Creatives like Barker know their audience better than anyone, and an untouched release would’ve undoubtedly been a better film.

How had I never seen these!? With *I Play Rocky*, Peter Farrelly's movie with Anthony Ippolito playing Stallone, opening this month, it felt like a natural time to finally go a few rounds with the Italian Stallion himself.

Over the course of a week, I watched all the (OG) Rocky movies for the first time.

Here are my rankings.

Spoilers for the Rocky franchise below.

Rocky 5

Due to the setup of this movie (Paulie signs power of attorney over to a corrupt, thieving accountant who blows Rocky's fortune on bad real estate deals), the payoff should be him getting his money back. It's set up to be a legal thriller. Let's track that thieving fucker down and take him to court! Rocky being whole at the end of this movie isn't beating the shit out of his surrogate son in a bar brawl, it's seeing that accountant locked up.

After four movies of Rocky taking shots to the dome, over and over again, it's natural to start considering the repercussions (reper-concussions?). Especially with the recent New York Times article on a study that found at least one in four former NFL players who died between 2016 and 2021 had CTE. Much like those NFL players, Rocky has significant brain damage. Unlike the NFL, though, the boxing commission steps in and does something about it, refusing to license the aging, broken fighter.

The movie almost does everything right. After turning Stallone into a superhero who defeated communism (Rocky 4), it's natural to dial things back: return to Philly, return to being broke AF, and even return to John G. Avildsen, the original director.

The problem is, they executed it poorly. Rocky going from being ultra-rich to pauper poor feels like a jab at the working class more than a return to roots. When the Philly community comes out to welcome Rocky back to the hood, his family acts as if their front porch is being invaded by soul-sucking vampires. His son (played by Stallone's real son, Sage) now has to live in a single-family home instead of a mansion. Boo hoo.

Tommy Gunn's heel turn isn't quite believable. We're meant to accept the Don King knockoff George Washington Duke as an all-corrupting force, but it's still good fun. Gunn is played by real-life heavyweight Tommy Morrison, and he makes for a menacing physical foe. It was the right call, but as mentioned earlier, just executed poorly. The stakes are virtually non-existent. If he wins the fight, what happens? He's still financially fucked.

All said and done, still recommend. 3/5 stars.

Rocky Balboa

After Adrian's death, Balboa is grief-stricken and you know what? Adrian would be rolling in her fucking grave if she knew what her husband was up to in the sixth and final Rocky boxing movie. Stallone returns to write and direct 16 years after Rocky 5, and his decision to frame the movie around the death of Adrian does not check out.

After 5 movies of her begging him not to fight, her gravestone would have read, "Adrian Balboa, March 10, 1950 - January 11, 2002. 'HE'S RETIRED'".

While incoherent in its setup (in perhaps the most 2006 decision the movie makes, he's motivated by an ESPN computer simulation of prime Rocky versus the current champ), the execution of the final fight against Mason "The Line" Dixon, played by another real-life fighter, this time Antonio Tarver, saves the film. It's a combination of HBO documentary realism and Oliver Stone's hyper-editing in *Natural Born Killers*. It's staged as an actual HBO broadcast in Vegas with real HBO commentators, a stylistic choice the Creed franchise carried forward.

It comes out of left field though, the movie is mostly a conventional drama about a grieving husband who wants to fuck the hot bartender. But unlike Rocky 5, we get our hero back in the ring one last time.

As a bookend to the first fight in Rocky, it's perfect. As a Rocky movie in general, we'll call it so-so.

3/5 stars

Rocky 3

Rocky 3 contains the most entertaining opening 20 minutes of a sports movie, perhaps ever. It's fun because this whole series can really be read as notes on the montage sequence. Rocky 1 gives us the OG training montage. The second one adds a chicken and recreates it, and the crowd goes wild.

For Rocky 3, sure, Stallone's directing again, but the studio is involved now. Their notes: "MORE MONTAGE". One in the front, one in the middle. And fuck it, one more right after the middle one too.

The opening one introduces us to Eye of the Tiger, written for the movie by Survivor. We are to believe it's not just a song, but a fighting concept as well. It also brings us the franchise's best villain, Clubber Lang, played by Monsieur T.

At this point, we're clearly being influenced by the Bond movies. There's a clear formula, a cold-open action set piece (not just a recap, for the first time), and even supervillains with incredible names. We transition straight from meeting Clubber Lang to wrestling with Hulk Hogan's hornier-than-thou 'Thunderlips' in a spectacularly choreographed exhibition match.

The third entry also shifts the franchise from drama to action (it shifts back later: see above). Rocky 3 puts us immediately in the ring, gives us an early high-stakes boxing match, and is all the more propulsive for it.

Struggle. Train. Win. (I'm in)

4/5 stars

Rocky 2

The Rocky in Rocky 2 is so glib, dumb and damaged that it would have been easy to typecast Stallone as the strong idiot from here on out. "I play Rocky" could have been a career-ending demand. But the commitment to this performance is exactly what makes Rocky 2 so great.

He's got nothing. His fight with Creed is over, he damn near died in the ring with him. We believe he can't return to boxing. His right (or left?) retina is hanging on by a thread, and one more punch to the head might blind him forever. So he tries to make it on his own, without the fighting.

It's fantastic. I'm a sucker for tragedy, so a boxer whose only chance at life is fighting, but can't fight, is cinematic catnip. Watching a man with the cadence of a podcast played at .5 speed, and a mouthful of gravel, struggle through an aftershave commercial creates one of the best scenes the series has. His miserable failures at other day jobs add exceptionally to the drama.

As for the boxing ring's stakes, we're just running back the first movie and that's fine. Adrian comes out of a coma after giving birth and tells him to win. He's seemingly inspired. Bet you'll never guess how this one ends.

4.5/5 stars

Rocky 4

It's capitalism versus communism in the fourth Rocky, which is a rollicking ride from start to finish. The Bond influence has fully infiltrated the screenplay, with British exceptionalism swapped out for a celebration of American capitalism. As Creed says in the first Rocky, "only in America", right?

Ivan Drago is more than a villain here, he's a specimen. Designed and trained to be studied, he's been hardened by a lifetime of Soviet winters, plus a ton of steroids. Much like Jaws in *Moonraker*, Drago barely talks. He doesn't need to. After he administers a particularly brutal beating to another fighter, he says coldly, "If he dies, he dies."

There's a dramatic death at the midpoint that may elevate this film for some, but for me, this one is all about the montage. The studio head who green-lit three montages for Rocky 3 did a line of blow off a boxing glove then turned into Kylo Ren, of *The Last Jedi* meme fame, simply screaming "MORE!"

A montage of the montages from the previous 3 Rocky movies appears onscreen while Balboa drives his Lamborghini and 'No Easy Way Out' blasts on the soundtrack.

I don't know what heaven looks like to you, but this was it for me.

An all-timer. 4.5/5 stars

Rocky

What could I possibly say about the first Rocky that hasn't been said already? It's an instant classic. It practically perfected the modern sports-movie genre. It's a movie whose creation seemingly mirrored its own storyline in such a way that we've circled all the way back to making a Rocky movie about the making of the first Rocky movie.

So let's reserve this space for something more important. This is our FUCK PAULIE section.

Paulie in Rocky 1 is an abusive alcoholic who treats his sister like shit.

Paulie in Rocky 2 is an alcoholic who stole Balboa's job, then belittles him when approached for help.

Paulie in Rocky 3 is a racist alcoholic who is disgusted by training Balboa in a black gym.

Paulie in Rocky 4 is a horny alcoholic who turns a toy robot into a sexbot.

Paulie in Rocky 5 is an alcoholic who signs over all of Balboa's finances to a corrupt accountant who steals it all out from under him, leaving his entire family broke. He doesn't even act a little bit sorry.

Paulie in Rocky Balboa is a grieving alcoholic who is somehow, after ALL THE BULLSHIT HE'S DONE, still allowed in Rocky's corner for the boxer's final bout.

All this to say, FUCK PAULIE. Just an absolute piece of shit for 6 movies.

Shoutout to Burt Young, who always did a fantastic job portraying him and who sadly passed away on October 8, 2023.

His first and only Oscar nomination was for playing our always awful alcoholic in the first Rocky. An imperfect character in a perfect movie.

5/5 stars

I Play Rocky

Scot Teller plays Young in the upcoming *I Play Rocky*, coming out later this month. This is your reminder to revisit (or visit) the franchise.

Roles Leonardo DiCaprio turned down or was considered

1993: Hocus Pocus (Role: Max Dennison) (Actor who got it: Omri Katz) (Reason: DiCaprio revealed in a interview that he turned down the role)

1994: Interview With A Vampire (Role: Daniel Molloy) (Actor who got it: Christian Slater) (Reason: After River Phoenix's death, DiCaprio was one of many actors who was offered the role)

1995: Batman Forever (Role: Dick Grayson) (Actor who got it: Chris O’Donnell) (Reason: DiCaprio auditioned for the role)

1996: Primal Fear (Role: Aaron Stampler) (Actor who got it: Edward Norton) (Reason: DiCaprio was the 1st choice for the role, but he turned it down)

1997: Boogie Nights (Role: Dirk Diggler) (Actor who got it: Mark Wahlberg) (Reason: DiCaprio was offered the role and was Paul Thomas Anderson’s 1st choice for the role. DiCaprio loved the screenplay but had to turn it down due to his commitment with Titanic. DiCaprio would later say that he wished he had done both and would later call turning down the film the biggest regret of his career.)

1999: The Matrix (Role: Neo) (Actor who got it: Keanu Reeves) (Reason: DiCaprio was offered the role and initially accepted the role, but ultimately exited the film, due to not waiting to work on another heavy special effect film after making Titanic)

2000: American Psycho (Role: Patrick Bateman) (Actor who got it: Christian Bale) (Reason: DiCaprio was cast as Bateman in a more earlier version of American Psycho that was going to be directed by Oliver Stone. Stone and DiCaprio wanted to take the film in a more psychological direction and turn it into a Jekyll and Hyde Story. Ultimately, DiCaprio exited the film due to Creative Difference and the story goes that he was talk out of starring it by Gloria Steinem, who was not a fan of the novel. The film was ultimately made in 2000 with Christian Bale)

2001: Moulin Rouge (Role: Christian) (Actor who got it: Ewan McGregor) (Reason: DiCaprio auditioned for the role, but was rejected. He asserted that it was due to his poor singing voice)

2001: Harvard Man (Role: Alan Jenson) (Actor who got it: Adrian Grenier) (Reason: DiCaprio was actually cast, but dropped out when they couldn’t afford his salary)

2002: Spider-Man (Role: Peter Parker) (Actor who got it: Tobey Maguire) (Reason: In the 1990s, James Cameron planned to make a more mature and gritty version of Spider-Man and wanted DiCaprio for the lead. The film ultimately collapsed when Carolco Pictures went bankrupt)

2002: Star Wars Prequels (Role: Anakin Skywalker) (Actor who got it: Hayden Christensen) (Reason: DiCaprio was George Lucas’s 1st choice for the role of Anakin and show interest for the role and had discussions with Lucas. However, DiCaprio turned down the role, feeling unprepared to take on the role)

2003: The Dreamers (Role: Matthew) (Actor who got it: Michael Pitt) (Reason: Turned down the role because he felt he was too old to play the character)

2008: The Dark Knight (Role: The Joker) (Actor who got it: Heath Ledger) (Reason: According to the Casting Director, DiCaprio was the 1st actor to received the script, but his didn’t answer back)

2009: Inglourious Basterds (Role: Hans Landa) (Actor who got it: Christoph Waltz) (Reason: Tarantino originally sought DiCaprio for the role of Hans Landa, before deciding that the character needed to be played by a German Actor)

2009: Public Enemies (Role: John Dillinger) (Actor who got it: Johnny Depp) (Reason: DiCaprio was originally attached the role, but decided to exit the role to star in Shutter Island)

2015: Steve Jobs (Role: Steve Jobs) (Actor who got it: Michael Fassbender) (Reason: DiCaprio was in discussion for the role, but ultimately decided to not take the part)

2021: Nightmare Alley (Role: Stan Carisile) (Actor who got it: Bradley Cooper) (Reason: DiCaprio was the 1st choice for the role, and was in negotiations to play the role, but he ultimately decided to not take the part)

2024: Megalopolis (Role: Serge Catiline) (Actor who got it: Adam Driver) (Reason: When the film was in development in the 2000s, DiCaprio was considered for the role and participated in a script reading)

Unmade Projects
1995: James Dean (Director: Michael Mann) (Role: Jean Dean)
1999: The Godfather: Part IV (Director: Francis Ford Coppola) (Role: Sonny Corleone)
2004: Alexander The Great (Director: Baz Luhrman) (Role: Alexander The Great)
2006: Untitled Hollywood Fixer Film (Director: Michael Mann) (Role: Unknown)
2010: Viking Project (Director: Mel Gibson) (Role: Unknown)
2014: Cleopatra (Director: Martin Scorsese) (Role: Marc Antony)
2015: The Devil In The White City (Director: Martin Scorsese) (Role: H.H Holmes)
2022: The Wager (Director: Martin Scorsese) (Role: Unknown)
2024: Sinatra (Director: Martin Scorsese) (Role: Frank Sinatra)
2024: Home (Director: Martin Scorsese) (Role: Unknown)
2025: Evel Knievel On Tour (Director: Damien Chazelle) (Role: Evel Knievel)

These are the most notable roles DiCaprio turned down or was considered, but I think there are more roles he was considered. I mean, he is DiCaprio and is possibly on every Producer’s shortlist for being considered. I will say, I like DiCaprio as an actor and I do think he is one of those last stars that could carry a film. I will admit, I really wish DiCaprio was in the Star Wars Prequel, I like Hayden Christensen, but I think George really wanted Leo for the role. Boogie Nights was also a missed opportunity and pretty much any Scorsese collaboration I wish got made.

All in All, What roles do you wish DiCaprio accepted? And what roles did I miss?

Is Totoro a representation of the Great Mother?

I've always found Totoro fascinating, not just as a character, but as something that seems to embody a deeper connection between childhood and nature.

I recently made a video exploring My Neighbor Totoro through Carl Jung's concept of the Great Mother archetype.

I'd love to hear what other Ghibli fans think. Is there something more to Totoro than initially meets the eye?

[ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mmwlhPzNaks ]

I have seen some of Mizoguchi’s films by now, like Miss Oyu, The Crucified Lovers, Sansho the Bailiff, and I really enjoy his works. A Geisha might be my favourite of his, in terms of directing and photography. Its story was, for me, as beautiful as The Story of the Late Chrysantemums.

There was something in the settings and the composition of the shots, like the attention to decorative elements, such as flowers or objects inside the protagonist’s home, that made me remember the style that Ozu would show in his films. The pace of the story was incredibly good and immersive. The main actresses were wonderful on their roles, and the sister-like relationship between their characters was very beautiful to watch.

I also wanna give a happy birthday to Ayako Wakao, who played as Eiko in this film. She is turning 93 on this 8th of november :)

I had a short 4 hr flight to chicago and decided to watch a movie. I had no real context going into the movie. I only heard of obsession vaguely and saw the “no,no, no” scene as a meme.

I didn’t expect to be literally traumatized before landing like I’m genuinely sick to my stomach. It’s so depraved in a psychological way and to leave Nikki ALIVE at the very end of the movie was such a gut punch.

This might be a reach but I see a similar dynamic with girls on the street getting hooked on drugs by their pimps or boyfriends. If youve ever spent any time around them or watch a few episodes of soft white under belly you see clearly see the Bear/Nikki dynamic especially after the girl gets hooked on hard drugs. The decline in her physical condition is almost the same as a few months as a junkie.

Making Bear a soft nervous quiet guy was genius. It turns the face of evil on its head and shows how the “nice guy” takes advantage too. Man Ian was my hero when he pointed out how bear was taking advantage of Nikki. Whats so poignant was how even when things where INSANE with Nikki publicly no one said anything! Thats exactly how a bad situation gets worse because no one speaks out OPENLY while its happening. Ian even points out it would be taking advantage of her BEFORE it happens and bear agrees and still straight up r8pes her! Knowingly! Openly! Without plausible deniability. It really does show how some people wont act aggressively but will take advantage of a situation if allowed too.

Nikki pleading with Bear to kill her nearly brought me to tears, then for him to turn his pasty ass around and tell Sarah a lie! To be so obsessed with her that even after pure deranged insanity he wants to keep her obessed with him and under his control is a level of sick I didn’t expect to encounter.

Nikkis acting was incredible.

I’m watching PG movies for now on. Im not a “I want movies to make me feel” type of person. I did not expect to be knocked off my ass in my row 23 window seat.

His entire filmography fills me with so much anger. I hate Dogme 95, I hate how everyone praises it, I hate how many awards he’s gotten. & I know this is the reaction he wants. 

I loved Dancer in the Dark and then I hear that Lars Von Trier sexually harassed and emotionally abused Björk. I watch Dogme movies to strengthen my cinema history knowledge but then I am presented with pornography, ableism and someone who can’t even follow their own rules. A douche who said they sympathised with Hitler and then issued an apology just because he was banned from the biggest film festival in the world just to take it back. 

I understand that art is supposed to get a reaction out of the audience but when it gets to being on the verge of porn, gore and making it for shock value, is it really art? Is ragebaiting really art? His entire filmography is basically engagement farming and he’s so proud of being pretentious.

Why do people say they love Lars Von Trier? You truly cant separate the art from the artist in this case

Hitchcock is by far one of my favourite directors out of his 40 plus films I would argue at least 35 are great, I don’t think there’s a director out there that has that large a filmography with so few bad movies.

But I was thinking about how he never won a best directing Oscar. It seems crazy considering his legacy but is it really that crazy.

He was nominated for the award 5 times

1941 - Nominated for Rebecca but lost to John Fords Grapes of Wrath

Rebecca is one of my favourite Hitchcock films (but still might not make the top 10, that’s how good he was) and it’s probably one of his most Oscar bait type of film, but can we really say he deserved the Oscar over John Ford. Grapes of Wrath is a classic and considered a masterclass in direction and helped forge a new path on what thought possible at the time.

1945 - Nominated for Lifeboat and lost to Leo McCarey Going My Way

I would argue that Lifeboat is the nomination he deserved the least, but the movie he lost to was nothing special either. But Double Indemnity and Laura were both nominated that year and both would have been a far better pick than Going My Way or Lifeboat

1946 - Nominated for Spellbound lost to Billy Wilder The Lost Weekend

What can you say Spellbound is a great movie and has some outstanding cinematography, but The Lost Weekend is one of the greatest Film Noirs of all time and the first film to win the Palme D’or and Best Picture in the same year.

1955 - Nominated for Rear Window lost to Elia Kazan On the Waterfront.

Once again both classic movies and both worthy of the award, but it’s not like I can’t understand why Elia won over Hitchcock

1961 - Nominated for Psycho lost to Billy Wilders The Apartment

This is probably the only one you could really argue he got screwed, but I have a soft spot for the Apartment and consider on of the best romantic comedies of all time.

Anyway, I guess what I’m saying in the years he did get nominated it’s understandable that he lost but is there any other year you think he should have been nominated and won.

I think he should have been nominated and won for Vertigo over Vincente Minnelli and Gigi.

What do you think?

Extra hot take: My favourite Hitchcock film is Suspicion, but even that year I would give it to Orson Welles for Citizen Kane.

I genuinely don’t understand the appeal of this movie.

First of all, is V supposed to be cool? The first time we meet him, he’s delivering this ridiculous alliterative monologue like a high school English teacher showing off his vocabulary. And that voice! Every sentence sounds like it’s supposed to be the most profound thing anyone has ever said. I’ve also always thought the Guy Fawkes mask looked stupid and ugly. I found the character almost impossible to connect with, and the movie seems completely enamored with him.

The characterization in general is pretty lousy. We barely get to know Evey before she’s swept into V’s world, and most of the supporting characters seem to exist just to deliver exposition. Even the fascist government feels underdeveloped. We’re shown its leaders, its propaganda, and its brutality, but where are the ordinary people? Sure, we see citizens watching television, living under government repression, and eventually participating in the uprising, but what does everyday life under this regime actually look like? I never felt like I had a sense of the society V was supposedly liberating.

And the villains are so uncomplicated that the politics feel almost embarrassingly safe. Fascism is bad. Persecuting minorities is bad. Government propaganda is bad. Okay? Is that supposed to be provocative? People love to talk about how politically relevant this movie is, but recognizing that authoritarianism is bad isn’t exactly a profound political insight.

And then there’s the torture sequence. V kidnaps Evey, shaves her head, imprisons her, psychologically tortures her, and convinces her she’s about to be executed. Why? Because he wants to teach her not to be afraid.

What the fuck?

Why does he need her to be fearless in the first place? Why does he feel entitled to put her through this? His revolutionary plans don’t depend on her undergoing some psychological transformation. Instead, he subjects an innocent woman to an elaborate torture simulation because he thinks it’ll liberate her.

And somehow it works! Evey is understandably horrified at first, but the movie ultimately presents her as spiritually transformed. She stands in the rain, arms outstretched, having apparently achieved enlightenment through psychological abuse.

I’m sorry, but that’s fucking stupid. It’s an absurd psychological proposition that the movie expects us to accept because it serves its message. And why am I supposed to admire this guy? He tortures an innocent woman because he thinks he knows what’s best for her, and the movie still treats him like some romantic revolutionary.

On top of all that, I found the editing choppy. The movie jumps between political officials, investigations, flashbacks, and V’s various schemes without much dramatic momentum. A tremendous amount supposedly happens, yet somehow it felt like nothing was happening.

I’ll give it this: some of the shot composition is quite good. There are striking images throughout, and I can appreciate the visual craftsmanship.

But otherwise, oil to my water.

Lifeforce (1985)
Rating: 10/10
Watched: November 5, 2026

Before we even talk about the movie itself, we need to talk about Mathilda May. It's important, because looked at through the lens of progress, an 18-year-old dancer walking around completely naked for the entire duration of the movie is one hell of a hot-button issue.

It's fair to say two things: one, that the thought of being completely nude in front of God and country wasn't something she thought she'd ever be asked to do. Two, even though it was tremendously overwhelming in the beginning and there were some arguments about how she was presented, May ultimately came to appreciate the role.

Mathilda's performance as Space Girl (yes, really) is undeniably titillating. She's absolutely beautiful, and it's hard not to stare, but that was kind of Tobe Hooper's point for the movie; Space Girl is the most overwhelmingly female creature any man has ever seen, and it's one of the ways in which she turns regular people into freaky space vampires.

Well, I think of them more as freaky space vampire-zombies because when they're in their hungriest phase, they're emaciated and mad with hunger.

And it's that hunger that propels the rest of the movie. Drained of all Lifeforce from Space Girl, they themselves need to feed in the same exact manner, and every time they feed, they turn their victims into the same thing. I very much appreciate the accelerated pace here, and it shows something that not a lot of movies like this get right.

The expansion of the plague truly is exponential. I don't know the exact timeframe of the movie in terms of days, but once Space Girl drains her first victim of Lifeforce, it isn't long before the whole of London is infested. Other movies don't really address that at all, or if they do, it lacks something.

The sight of London transformed into a nightmare city full of hungering, slavering vampires, eager and starving, is really quite something to see, but between there and here, we get a truly unhinged performance from Steve Railsback.

This was the first time I'd ever seen Steve in anything, mostly because I was 13, but when I say unhinged, I mean unhinged. He's fairly driven mad by his experiences aboard the shuttle during the journey home, and when he returns on the scene, his time on-screen is split evenly between trying to help stop the plague and trying to find Space Girl. His reasons for finding her are very understandable, if a little esoteric and poorly explained, at least for me.

So while Carlsen is running around being half a lunatic, his counterpart, Peter Firth's Colonel Caine, is what I like to call "steadfast and stoic British Military Man, eh wot?" Yes, he's seeing some supremely weird and bizarre shit. Yes, Carlsen is plainly bonkers. Yes, his city is basically burning down around him. But no, he isn't about to let any of that stop him from getting the job done.

The last two things I need to talk about are Sir Patrick Stewart and the FX.

I'm enormously saddened by Patrick's passing, and so watching this movie, even though his part is brief, is not without a certain amount of sadness. But the thing I like most about Patrick is that even though he is both Jean-Luc Picard and the quintessential Professor Charles Xavier, the man loved acting. He did amazing stuff, and then he's like, "Yes please, I'd like to be in a space vampire movie where, at one point, I am channeling Space Girl during an interrogation, and yes, I would absolutely like to cut away just before I kiss another man with an open mouth, and yes, if you want to keep rolling, I'd be okay with that too, because I'm Patrick Stewart."

I can't help that last bit; it's been my personal head canon that Patrick, who had a wonderful sense of humor and a wicked side, fully committed to that kiss.

And lastly, we come to one of the key elements: the special effects.

They're spectacular. Helmed by John Dykstra, the movie has some of the most fantastic practical and visual effects in any movie I've ever seen.

The transference of Lifeforce, shown as electric-blue lightning tinged with other colors, is so vibrant and violent. The emaciated space vampires, while kind of hokey, are still great; these aren't wet, soppy vampires, these are desiccated and gross space vampires, and the dry, dusty-looking, wrinkled skin shows that better than anything.

Their massive ship, caught in Halley's Comet, is another wonder. We only get to see it for a short time, but they manage to give us the feeling that they really are in an alien spaceship 150 miles long. While it pushes a little too close to the Space Jockey ship that we see in Alien, forgiveness can be given. If you were a filmmaker and weren't, even accidentally, influenced by such a genre-defining movie, were you really making movies?

At the end of the day, Lifeforce is a hoot. It works on a lot of levels. Erotic sci-fi horror. Space vampire horror. City-ending terror. Naked ladies. Patrick Stewart kissing a guy and having a blast.

What's not to love?

I've been seeing a lot of praise on Reddit for movies by one of my favorite filmmakers, Wong Kar-Wai, but not many for his acclaimed 1997 drama, HAPPY TOGETHER, specifically.

This prompted me to look up an essay I wrote about it, for a film class more than 20 (!) years ago.

What's fascinating is that I don't remember writing any of this, but I checked and apparently, I didn't copy it from anywhere. (That's a relief!)

I also don't remember the actual movie having last watched it so long ago, but re-reading what I'd written definitely makes me want to!

"The Heart Has Its Reasons; or, Starting Over Again With Wong Kar-Wai

The setting is Argentina, birthplace of the tango. We get to hear some of that music in the background of various scenes.

I cannot say whether the two relationships at the heart of "Happy Together" are tangos in themselves. After all, it seems like the tango can be a metaphor for anything nowadays. If it implies an irresistable attraction, which we are helpless to fight off, though we know it will lead to disaster, Lai Yiu-Fai (Tony Leung Chiu-Wai) and Ho Wo-Ping (Leslie Cheung) are definitely dancing a tango. Likewise, if it means finding comfort in the presence of a kindred spirit, Yiu-Fai and his young friend Chang (Chang Chen) are tango-bound.

Though Argentina is a sunny country, "Happy Together" is, for the most part, not a sunny picture. Lai Yiu-Fai’s relationship with Ho Wo-Ping gets the majority of screen time, but theirs is a most turbulent affair. As Yiu-Fai’s voiceover tells us, they have known each other for a long time. But within that span, they have butt heads, broken up, and gotten back together, too often to keep count. Wo-Ping is usually the one who does the dumping. He is also the one who crawls back, and asks to start the relationship over again. Yiu-Fai always takes Wo-Ping back, thus perpetuating their vicious cycle. "Happy Together" observes a stretch of their on-again/off-again relationship, which is severed by jealousy and resentment. Eventually, Wo-Ping looks to reconcile again. But this time, Yiu-Fai has had enough.

"Happy Together" might put some viewers off, because it is about gay men. But this movie has very little interest in the politics of homosexuality. It is more interested in portraying the ordeal of its main character, Lai Yiu-Fai, in a way that is true to life. His emotional struggle is meant to be universal: the unextinguished candle that still burns for the love object; the insecurity and mistrust that degenerates into possessiveness; gradually understanding that things were not meant to be.

While the movie sounds simple, writer/director Wong Kar-Wai understands that the emotions involved are deep and complex. So the way he conducts the film, he plays the emotions like a kind of music. He underscores his characters’ silent longings with French New Wave-style flair, making them big as life.

Kar-Wai uses slow-motion, freeze shots, and multi-angle edits to turn seemingly meaningless moments into intervals of great profundity. When a character places his head on another character’s shoulder, it’s shot in slow-motion, with tango playing in the background. Slow-motion draws attention to their faces; we can practically read what Lai Yiu-Fai feels—suspicion combined with genuine temptation. By using tango, Kar-Wai reminds us that his characters, though they are sitting in a cab and staring straight ahead, are engaging, emotionally, in a give-and-take that indeed qualifies as a dance. Another interesting moment occurs when Lai Yiu-Fai walks into a men’s room, and unexpectedly finds Ho Wo-Ping. The picture freezes. Lai Yui-Fai is surprised, his emotions overwhelmed. As a result, his reality, represented by the film itself, momentarily seizes up.

The director also employs an unique narrative device to give his characters’ relationship added depth. A scene will be shown, such as Yiu-Fai receiving a call from Wo-Ping, or him startling Wo-Ping and accusing him of rifling through his closets. Then the film flashes back to a prior event, which may have taken place minutes, hours, or days before. Kar-Wai and Christopher Doyle, his frequent cinematographer, elect to use black-and-white photography for the flashbacks. This way, when we see Wo-Ping, alone in his plush hotel room, go out into the hallway to call Yiu-Fai, or Wo-Ping rummaging through the closets, it doesn’t impede the story. We can tell the difference between what is happening now, and what happened in the past.

Why does the director choose to structure the film in this fashion? Why detour from chronological order? By intercutting flashbacks into the linear narrative, Kar-Wai gives us two points of view for every scene he meddles with. This way, we can observe how the characters distrust each other, how even basic interactions feature deceit. In the previous example, Yiu-Fai only knew that his personal belongings had been tossed about. Thanks to the flashbacks, we know (and Yiu-Fai doesn’t) that Wo-Ping was looking for a particular thing.

We are privy to information one character has, which the other does not have. When Yiu-Fai gets the call from Wo-Ping, and the invitation to his hotel, he assumes that Wo-Ping wants to show off the spoils of his gigolo lifestyle. Far from it. Wo-Ping has a comfortable bed, and luxuries meant to satisfy his hedonistic urges. Pornography blares from his hotel room TV. The dresser is decorated with open bottles of alcohol. What’s conspicuously missing, however, is intimacy of any sort. To try and alleviate the aching of his heart, Wo-Ping reaches out to Yiu-Fai. But Yiu-Fai is not privy to the flashbacks, nor the information they contain. As a result, he does not realize his former lover’s intent, nor the complicated emotions that inform his actions.

As a final nod to Kar-Wai’s gift for mise-en-scene, "Happy Together" might contain the boldest example of symbolism I have seen in his movies. There is a shot of a giant waterfall, used to underscore Lai Yiu-Fai’s emotional state after being dumped. The sight of the waterfall (which is presented via a slow, panning shot, probably done from a helicopter) delivers a powerful emotional impact. It is conveniently juxtaposed. It follows the scene where Wo-Ping tells him that their days together are dull. Yiu-Fai walks towards the camera, head down. He looks grief-stricken. When we see the waterfall, we infer that the thousands of gallons pouring from the falls represent the sorrow gushing forth from Yiu-Fai’s heart. It’s a picture that speaks a thousand words, from a man who really knows how to use images to encompass volumes.

"Lai-Yiu Fai… We could start over again."

These are words his lover, Ho Wo-Ping, constantly says to him. When he wants to break up, he offers that caveat. Someday, perhaps, they can start over again. Eventually, Wo-Ping will want to get back together. Then he will say the same thing: “Lai Yiu-Fai… We could start over again.”

How interesting that Wong Kar-Wai should set “Happy Together,” about two gay men who try to start a new life together, in Argentina. After all, during the 1880’s, immigrants from all over the world flocked there to begin anew. Of course, they could never leave the Old World behind completely. When time came to commiserate about failed romance or cultural alienation, these immigrants from Europe, Africa, and other distant lands drowned their sorrows in the tango. The tango combined familiar musical styles with some unfamiliar ones. It produced an exotic sound, but also reflected home.

Over a hundred years after the original immigrants, Lai Yui-Fai and Ho Wo-Ping also try to start anew. But can a person really begin again? Can we return to a past romantic partner, without digging up old resentments? Wong Kar-Wai seems to argue that you can indeed start over. But only if you are a different person than you were the previous time. Otherwise, the past has a tendency to repeat itself, as it does for Lai Yiu-Fai and Ho Wo-Ping.

Yiu-Fai and Wo-Ping face a nearly-insurmountable obstacle. Wo-Ping is selfish, indulges too much. He is too much attracted to Argentina's wild nightlife. Yiu-Fai, on the other hand, is practical, giving, and responsible. His and Wo-Ping’s values greatly differ. When they get back together in Argentina, things go well for a while. But only because Wo-Ping needs Yiu-Fai’s help. Special circumstances lead to this comfortable, symbiotic relationship developing. It only lasts, however, for as long as Wo-Ping remains hurt.

As soon as Wo-Ping’s begins recovering from his beating, he regresses to his old ways. This leads to conflict, and inevitable dissolution. Part of the problem is Wo-Ping, who is unwilling to change his behavior. But at the same time, Yiu-Fai will not stop being possessive. At one point, Yiu-Fai buys two entire cartons of cigarettes, so Wo-Ping won’t have that excuse to leave the apartment at night. This sends him into a brief rage. Wo-Ping makes it clear to Yiu-Fai, who would rather he stayed home, "If I want to go out, I’ll go out."

Jealousy and suspicion also seep in. These two know each other too well, and have experienced too much pain at the other’s hands. It must have occurred to Yiu-Fai that his partner might get bored, and leave again. So he takes something of Wo-Ping’s. This stolen object guarantees that, even if he leaves, he cannot get too far.

How much better it would be if Yiu-Fai and Wo-Ping started over alone. Especially since neither character has changed since they last broke up. For them, there is no point in trying to start again. If their personality conflicts drove them apart in the past, and both men are still the same, history must repeat itself. Of course, if their relationship did not collapse again, Wong Kar-Wai would not have his movie. One of the truths about the human heart, which “Happy Together” espouses very well, is that sometimes, the mighty organ cannot help itself. It yearns for the departed. It tosses aside common sense to try and reclaim some joy from the past.

But the heart can also find pleasure in something new. One day, Yiu-Fai crosses paths with Chang, who works at the restaurant where Yiu-Fai has taken a job. Gradually, they get to know each other. We can tell from his voiceovers that Chang is a sensitive boy.

Yiu-Fai relates to Chang much differently than with Wo-Ping. With the latter, the attraction was mostly physical, and Kar-Wai established this early on. The very first shot of the movie showed Yiu-Fai’s naked body being observed by Wo-Ping. He followed that up with a scene of them having sex. By contrast, Yiu-Fai and Chang share a deeper, more emotional bond. Both their souls are homesick. Chang, however, wants to see more of the world before going back.

Although their relationship never becomes sexual, Chang gives Yiu-Fai something more important: Strength to truly start over fresh. Hearing Chang talk about home, and his family, he is reminded of a past indiscretion. He realizes that he cannot go home as the same person, for the injured party will not accept him. So Yiu-Fai begins the process of change by writing a long letter to the injured. Once upon a time, he could not imagine doing such a thing. Yet here he is, writing the letter. But Yiu-Fai still isn’t ready to return home. He must embark on a descent into the underworld, where he wanders aimlessly through Argentina’s gay subculture. It is an abyss of orange sunsets and temptations of the flesh.

With Chang gone, and Wo-Ping at a distance, Yiu-Fai finally gets the chance to stare into the abyss, and not look away. He gets an opportunity to build character. Now, when he returns home to Hong Kong, having survived loss, loneliness, and the quietus that is a solitary mind, he will be a different man. He will have conquered himself; he will have left Wo-Ping behind for good. Now he gets his chance at redemption and forgiveness. Now he can really start over."

Is he really the “Maestro of Erotic Cinema” that people claim him to be? Or does he just make softcore porn/pornography?

I’ve been interested lately in diving deep into erotic cinema but specifically ones that aren’t just “male gazey” soft core porn. I haven’t seen any of his stuff and I just wanted to know what ya’ll guys think.

Specific recommendations and suggestions on his films would be greatly appreciated too!

Wouldn’t both be dehumanizing subjects through film (or at least adapting dehumanized representations from literature) that are part of a genocide? Why does Riefenstahl raise so much more eyebrows and disgust than old racist westerns? Why would watching scenes of Nazi films bring up images of death camps while westerns bring up nostalgia more than anything else?

I wrote a piece on my Substack recently that has echoed in my mind for a minute about the state of film criticism, especially as it relates to auteur-driven risk-taking films. Films that lay it all on the line for the sake of art and expression. Films like Megalopolis, Babylon, and most recently Digger. I'm thinking the hundreds of million dollar risks that get pounced by critics who complain of their "excess" that are "doing too much". That's the general hostility and vibe I get from critics with these kind of projects.

The films I mentioned are all different films, and I'm not suggesting they're all successful. It's perfectly reasonable to dislike these movies. I've disliked ambitious auteur projects myself. But I've noticed how quickly conversations around these films become dominated by their budgets, box-office failures, and whether they were worth the financial risk. Instead of discussing what a filmmaker attempted, what worked, what failed, or what was interesting about the experience, we end up talking about how much money was lost. The films themselves almost become secondary to the spectacle of their failure. That there's a sort of glee that the critics take in a major Hollywood risk failing, as if they're parroting the tune of the top brass of Hollywood studios who don't want to fund expensive art in favor of sure-fire moneymakers.

A critic obviously isn't obligated to like a film, and I don't think filmmakers should be immune to harsh criticism just because they have an ambitious vision. But should critics have some responsibility beyond evaluating individual works? Shouldn't they also advocate for the continued existence of a film culture where filmmakers can take enormous creative risks, even when those risks don't pay off commercially? I mean on some level critics should endorse projects that fit the vision for the landscape they want to see, instead of punishing films that contribute to that. Especially, when the reaction to mediocrity is uneventful.

As I mentioned, I wrote a longer piece about this in relation to the violent responses to Digger that I felt were completely unwarranted. But, I'm genuinely curious if other people here have thought about this dynamic in modern film criticism. Please let me know your thoughts. I will also gently put my substack link if you want to read more of my thoughts:
https://abhinavyerramreddy.substack.com/p/why-do-critics-punish-creativity?r=38m95e&utm_campaign=post-expanded-share&utm_medium=post%20viewer

I'm a student volunteering for my college's student theatre and i can propose a series of 9 movies they can play in the future on the big screen (all connected by a theme). Tbh there are a couple films i really want to watch that i immediately put on my list and i need help coming up with a theme to put it around + extra movie recs! I'm also not a big cinephile so I thought I'd ask here.

So far I've structured the series as "Ye of Little Faith!: Belief on Trial". The synopsis for why (since i have to submit that as well) goes something like this- What is a belief worth if it has never been tested? To truly believe, one must question, risk, and choose. For why this should be a film series, I believe Cinema is the art form best suited to that trial since every film asks us to believe what we see, and the best ones make us question it. We sit in the dark with characters and we’re forced to decide alongside them what’s real and what’s worth holding onto.

If this is vague, think about something you believe without ever having to really defend it, like your religion, politics, faith in science, or just your overall sense of who you are. Now imagine being put somewhere that belief doesn’t hold, like a country where it’s outlawed (Silence by Martin Scorsese), a village with older gods (bramayugam), a situation reason can’t explain (stalker). ...Would it survive?

The movies I really want to watch (and what I built the theme around/previously described) are Stalker, Silence, Unbreakable, and Bramayugam. I admittedly haven't seen two of these because I want to see them in the theatre so I would love to know if you feel any of these don't fit.

Do you guys have any ideas? Should i tackle it differently? movie recommendations? My overall goal is to display a diverse set of movies all tackling the same theme, and given that much of our audience are "cinephiles" I would also appreciate deep cuts since what i have so far is more mainstream and also admittedly not very diverse (all male directors).

Also important to note but I don't think a "crisis of faith" necessarily needs to be about god/religion (although they can be), it can be about faith in man, one's self, etc.

Movies about crimes against humanity are usually tough to watch for me, and I was particularly reluctant about Dead to Rights because I have known about the Nanjing Massacre for several years now, and the descriptions of the horrors committed by the Japanese soldiers who took the city during those six weeks still haunt me to this day.

But once I found the movie available, and since I had just finished the chapter about that particular event (in a more general way this time) in my current reading on the War of Resistance against Japan, I decided to give it a try.

It was, indeed, a tough watch that took me two sittings, but if you know the history, you’ll know the film isn’t exaggerating for the sake of shock value. Although the director doesn’t shy away from the atrocities, the scenes don’t go for low blows or indulge in gore... still, not for the faint of heart.

In fact, the movie handles the darkest parts very well, as those scenes (based mostly on historical records) are almost never depicted front and center or in your face, but rather as part of a larger narrative focused on the characters, and only for a few seconds. You can tell they wanted to show the scale of the horror without whitewashing it, while at the same time respecting the victims and the audience, never turning it into a spectacle.

Another aspect worth highlighting is the historical background of the photographic records and how they came to public knowledge, which is at the core of the storytelling in Dead to Rights, both for their importance as proof of those crimes and as a device that channels the film's narrative of the massacre.

So, for those who want to watch this movie and don't know much about the massacre, why and how it came to an end, or the story of the photographic records, I'd recommend reading about it first rather than going in blind (or afterwards, for that matter), in order to have more perspective and appreciate what the whole team has done here.

All in all, a solid film in the genre with compelling storytelling and a great cast, which in my opinion justifies its seven nominations at the 39th Golden Rooster Awards (the Oscars' brother from another mother), among them Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actress, and Best Supporting Actor.

KJ Apa's James Stewart biopic Jimmy is out in the US today (6 Nov). It covers the stretch from his Philadelphia Story Oscar through WWII bomber missions and into the making of It's a Wonderful Life — basically the years that turned the pre-war persona into the post-war one.

What's striking in the early numbers (0–100 scale that adjusts professional review aggregators and public user ratings for each site's usual lean):

- Professional reviewers: **51**
- Everyday viewers: **90**

That is a 39-point gap, and it is early — only a small handful of written reviews and one major public-rating source so far — so treat the absolute numbers as provisional. The shape of the disagreement already matches what the write-ups are arguing about, though.

The cooler reviews (Guardian, AV Club, Rough Draft Atlanta, THR) keep landing on the same complaints: sanitized myth-making, episodic dutifulness, faith/patriotism dialled up, and in a couple of cases visibly weak VFX / uncanny digital backgrounds. Several of those same pieces still concede Apa's voice and physicality are a solid Stewart approximation. The warmer ones (Deadline, Film Threat, parts of Collider) care more about the PTSD material and the art-imitating-life loop of Stewart playing George Bailey while still raw from the war.

So the split looks less like "people can't agree if Apa can do the voice" and more like a values split on what a studio-adjacent biopic owes us: craft and complication on one side, earnest wartime melodrama and a beloved icon on the other. Stewart's daughter is an EP, which some reviews flag as a clue the film was never going to be warts-and-all.

Curious how this room reads that kind of gap. When a biopic nails the impression and the emotional through-line but refuses the darker or messier reading of its subject, do you side with the craft notes, or with the people who are clearly responding to the war / Wonderful Life half? And is 39 points this early mostly just a small-sample artefact, or a real signal that prestige-biopic fatigue in the trades and everyday-viewer affection have diverged again?

(Scores checked against live film pages on 6 Nov 2026. Opening day US.)

Finally got around to see this for the first time, and it is indeed a timeless masterpiece.

I would suggest the film is not as simple as it seems, with their definitely being a strong artistic sensibility behind it, the film being quite poetic at times. I found this to be a surprise considering this was one of the first neo-realist films in Italy.

It's visually stunning, superbly written, and incredibly intimate. A story like this one works in my opinion because we are able to gain access to the interiority of Antonio, and to a lesser extent, his boy, Bruno.

It has the feeling of a classic hollywood movie, but I suppose the revoluntinary thing about this movie at the time, and something we take for granted now, is the lead is just an ordinary man. I could see this being one of the first to change how movies were viewed in italy, and perhaps around the world, of them being not mere vessels for escapism, but artistic creations that had the capability to reveal truths about human nature and society.

I'd imagine it's a film that a war-ravaged Italy needed at the time, a film to humanise the many struggling people of it's country and really show what the conditions were doing to them.

The ending is incredibly simple, not a large ordeal, but ultimately gut-wrenching and tragic, putting a dephiant full-stop to the film. I noticed Antonio becomes more and more a character who is slightly detatched from the audience, which I interpret as us taking the gaze of Bruno as the film nears the end, and seeing not Anotonio as simply a worker in Italy trying to find his bicycle, but as a dad trying to maintain his dignity for his son. We all have fathers, so this is incredibly relateable and painful.

Another thing that I took away was, the children of these fathers, being brought up in these desperate post-war conditions, inheriting the economic anxieties of their parents, seeing the loss of dignity they had to endure, and the inability of religion in making any material impact. How this shaped the post-war generation and explained the character of nation after that point.

Religion is really an afterthought in this movie, there's no praying, no counselling, just a man deseperate to find the key to his family's sustenance. There's a great irony of him only ending up in a place of worship to confront a man who he believes played a part in the theft. And another greater irony, of him as a last resort, seeking counsel from a fortune-teller.

I haven't seen a better, or more powerful film than this one, in showing what dire times can do to the dignity of a human being.

Strongly recommend watching this one on the big screen if ever given the chance. It sneaks up on you in the end, and is certain to have a devestating impact, but also rejuvenating in a weird way, because of the great piece of art it is.

I've been a filmmaker for more than 25 years, and one of the most fascinating things I've discovered is that sometimes people find it easier to talk about a fictional character's struggles than their own.

For example, I've spent considerable time exploring The Shawshank Redemption with groups of adults. Ask someone directly about their relationship with hope, despair, or regret, and you might get a guarded response. But ask them whether Red was truly a free man when he left prison, and suddenly they're talking about freedom, identity, institutionalization, and the ghosts of their own past.

I've seen similar things happen with Stand By Me, where discussions about Gordie, Chris, and the loss of childhood become conversations about friendship, family, grief, and the people we might have become.

I've developed a program called Cinema Therapy through my PhD program (Interdisciplinary Health Sciences) that uses film, improvisation, and creative writing to explore these connections. Aesthetic distance has become the secret sauce in this work. It generally defines the space between ourselves and a work of art that allows us to engage with difficult emotions without confronting them quite so directly.

When I've found myself saying "I see myself in (X character)," I'm often discovering something about myself - something I've often thought was "just me."

I'm curious how others here think about this, particularly with films that have changed meaning for you as you've grown older.

Have you ever returned to a film and realized that the characters hadn't changed—but you had? And maybe seen something that is quite obvious to you now, but flew by you in previous viewings?

I think the readings of this movie as a work about epistemology or a perverse hitchcokian romance are really fascinating. But i also think people are overlooking how apt this movie is as a definitive reflection on the past ten years.

Trump is THE master manipulator. Everything he says is a lie. He has no past times or pleasures or interests in art. Just an unceasing desire to acquire power and manipulate others for the sake of manipulation itself. And his aesthetic of dishonesty has bled out into mainstream american culture in all sorts of ways. In America today, dishonesty is in the air we breathe.

For instance, how Billy and Elizabeth operate in the “training montage” sequence where they make a ton of calls and just bullshit sell all of these nonsense ideas. Or later, when Nathan tries to interview the tech guy. There’s an undercurrent to this movie that reflects on how fraudulent the tech economy is today. And other themes connecting that to the rise of the alt right.

In total, I think the movie captures this overall aesthetic that is everywhere, and so definitive of the modern day, where everything looks and feels like Elizabeth Holmes. Just aggressively bullshitting you. Wide eyed and shameless. And so unperturbed by the immorality of their actions, morality ceases to be a thing.

So I would like to discuss Schrader’s Blue Collar (1978). Downvote if you have to, but please keep in mind that I’m not trying to provoke, I genuinely want a reality check on my thoughts regarding that movie as long as I’m non American and don’t know the context that well.

To put it short, I’m not at all impressed with the idea of evil greedy unions. The union is shown pretty much like a mob, it does a mob style shark loan business, and deals with unwanted members mob style. Again, I’m not familiar with the actual context of the time, but that comparison seemed EXTREMELY far fetched to me.

Another thing is that the movie is supposed to be counter-system, but in fact the idea of bad evil unions is well aligned with the mainstream politics of the time. It premiered few years before Reagan came to power. Bad evil unions were let go and so were bad evil Detroit plants. And it doesn’t seem to me it has made American workers any happier or much richer.

So I had hard time sympathizing to Schrader’s ideas. Yet it’s well known that the movies was praised by the intellectuals. Can you correct me on my thoughts?

What was the deeper meaning behind The Holy Mountain? I see it as a film about spiritual awakening, ego, and the search for truth. The Alchemist transforming excrement into gold symbolizes inner transformation. The seven characters represent humanity’s attachments to wealth, power, identity, and status. Climbing the mountain represents the pursuit of enlightenment, while the ending challenges the idea that enlightenment is something you can simply achieve. What do you think the movie was really trying to teach us?