I saw Wim Wenders’s Wings of Desire for the first time and thought it was overrated. I watched a lot of movies I love again this year, most notably Sergei Paradjanov’s The Color of Pomegranates. Steven Shainberg’s Secretary is still a fun watch. I also saw Taxi Driver again, finding it much worse than when I first saw it as a college student. I accidentally watched the prequel to Ringu, all the while confused as to why it seemed nothing like the Ringu I’d seen some years before. I saw some terrible in-flight movies. I’d meant to see Ana Lily Amirpour’s A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night when it was in theatres in 2014 but eventually saw it on Netflix last year: it was too American for me. Iris Apfel is an extraordinary human being and up there with Tilda Swinton in the fashion constellation–you must see Albert Maysles’s documentary about her, which is still up on Netflix. (Aside: all of last year Netflix kept recommending movies with first names of women as titles: Iris, Ida, Pina, Barbara . . . Barbara was good; I left Ida and Pina for another year, maybe this one.) But this is the stuff I really liked:
Mario Bava. Rabid Dogs/Kidnapped. Italy, 1974/1977.
Peter Bogdanovich. The Last Picture Show. USA, 1971.
Robert Bresson. Les dames du Bois de Boulogne. France, 1945.
Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne. Le fils. Belgium, 2002.
Richard Fleischer. Mandingo. USA, 1975.
Aleksey German. Hard to Be a God. Russia, 2013. Read More