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If Hank Williams managed to grow old, he probably would’ve looked a lot like Harry Dean Stanton does in Lucky. Stanton’s clothes hang limply off of his body, and his flannel shirt crossed with tight-jeans suggests a rancher in a small Texas town that has weathered many storms. The look in his worn, wrinkled face complete with thinning hair and bagged-eyes show a man who has had a lot of life-experience, and after years of doing onto life, he is finally letting life do onto him.
Tommy Wiseau’s famous disasterpiece The Room came to my attention about seven years ago. A kid in my high school television class would constantly quote it and try to suppress (or intensify) occasionally awkward situations he himself would routinely inspire by reciting the famous lines, “Oh hi, Mark” and “You’re tearing me apart, Lisa!” from the film. When I finally watched a short-time later, I wasn’t very amused. It was inept filmmaking at its finest, but it became inescapable to the point where I would hear it being spoken about in many conversations about film I had with people.
The Post is almost worth the price of admission solely to see a trifecta of talents hone their craft and sink their teeth into a juicy opportunity that continues to solidify their separate, similar legacies. The trio is made up of Meryl Streep, Tom Hanks, and Steven Spielberg, three treasures of our time who come together to give us a mostly successful drama that plays more like a thriller given our presently tumultuous political landscape and the recent attacks on journalism that have come in the last couple years.
Every so often, I get tired of writing conventional reviews and spice my routine up with one that is structured a bit differently. For S. Craig Zahler’s Brawl in Cell Block 99, which is making quite a push for accolades this awards season in a move few could’ve initially seen coming, I decided to give you nine reasons why you should make time for this cold-cock of a movie.
Woody Allen’s Wonder Wheel will likely be remembered more for its quietly impacting visual effects than for what comprises its narrative. Cinematographer Vittorio Storaro (Dick Tracy,Last Tango in Paris) uses digital effects in the uncommon, natural way that involves bringing bygone locations back to life rather than letting the fantastical side of one’s imagination run wild. With Allen’s latest film — his 48th to be precise — Storaro crafts a 1950s Coney Island partly comprised of practical effects, shot-on-location B-roll, and digital trickery, all interwoven with one another so naturally you wish the location served as more than a simple backdrop.