Best Movies I've ever seen

All the right words have probably been used: stunning, mesmerizing, tantalizing. All these and the prepared for "love that dared not speak its name" set in the 50s are what we expect as we sit in the theatre. However, the words I came away with were not so headlight blinding on a dark night; rather, the stillness caught me. And when the stillness ended only the perfectly necessary, perfectly nuanced, movement captured my eye and held me spellbound into the next stillness. And the Silences. When did we forget how a silence can speak a thousand thoughts and ideas and notions? When did we lose ourselves in this cacophony of voices, unceasing, these incoherent noises? And how can this newly found silence find us yearning, not for words, no; instead, we beg, leaning forward in our seats, holding our breath, waiting or wishing or dying for another glance or equally as satisfying (but now almost universally neglected) another gentle, almost intangible - except from the disturbance of air around it - brush of a hand on a shoulder, and then gasping for air as it finally arrives? When did we lose the ability to interpret in a glance (and maybe a barely distinguishable lift of the corner of a mouth with the exact right shade of lipstick) across the department store floor an existence of unrelenting and profound loneliness, of desolation, of hopelessness? When did we lose the ability to say yes to life, and risk, and hoping the feeling in your gut is telling you this isn't the worst idea ever? Whenever we lost all these gifts: when we lost silence as an amplifier; when we lost the ability to translate a touch that speaks what we can't say aloud into "I love you" and "I need you" and "I will be desolate without you;" when we lost the ability to say with our eyes alone, "you are the piece of me I didn't know was missing;" when the choices were not an easily managed yes or no, but instead asked us the existence shattering, "shall I give up my soul ... or my soul?" I don't know when we lost all these gifts of communication, but I found them all here, watching a film in a small theatre in Santa Fe, New Mexico; and I was heartbroken and uplifted; terrified by the honesty and horrified by the cruelty in this world I was invited into; and yet, I am still loathe to go to another place, another time, where Carol and Terese are not speaking this language, where I am not the voyeur - the audience reeling with the profound reminders of how little we need speech, if only we commit to using every other sense to communicate.

And here's what I said after three viewings:

So, truth telling is my thing, as most of you know and well, today, I saw Carol for the 3rd time in as many days. Some of you read the "review" I wrote the other day, but I thought I would write a more staid, if no less devoted, review, and so here it is:

As for Carol, I have now seen it 3 times and I have pre-ordered the dvd and am reading the script. There is something transcendent about the film and each time I see it, I find something I missed that is remarkable and exceptional. Three days ago, I noticed the silences and stillness and how in each moment of stillness and/or silence the actors' emotions/micro-expressions/silent communication is amplified. Every single movement, each touch, each look is devastatingly important. There is not one extraneous word, look, or moment in the entire film.

Then yesterday, what I noticed was the camera perspectives. So many of us live our lives in front of screens: computers, televisions and movie screens. And we are given specific perspectives through which we see what is in front of us. We are shown full faces, and rarely are we offered the chance to SEE as we naturally see in the world - through glass, out a piece of a car window, in a mirror behind us. We are fed visuals so that we see EVERYTHING FROM THE FRONT. . . which is a lie. If you live in a world with little screen time, you find the world rarely looks at you with a straight back and a face looking directly at you. Instead, people tilt their heads, give sidelong glances, look over their shoulders. Well, this is what the DP and the Director give us in Carol. Real looks, glances over shoulders, wry smiles, longing through rain splattered taxi glass. We get a completely different perspective while we watch Carol and Terese.

And finally, tonight, well. Tonight was all about the music. If this movie doesn't win some serious bling at the Oscars it will be a travesty. The music is Perfect. And by perfect, I mean, when you need it, where you need it, providing its own subtext while seemingly leading you along the way. It is stunning in its simplicity and yet, I cannot imagine any other film which could so seamlessly integrate the variety of moods and genres. Sadly, the soundtrack is only partly included on the released soundtrack, but the gist is not lost.

I know this is long, and I'm going to end it soon, but there is no small amount of scriptwriting in Hollywood. Some of it is better than others, and some of the writing is better than any other. Maybe it's because Phyllis Nagy took her time and waited and worked on this script for decades, or maybe she wrote it in 6 sleep deprived, alcohol fueled days, chain smoking American Spirit Cigarettes. However it came about, this script is gold. Making a film is a team sport. Scriptwriters are only one player. The thing is, though, this script is beyond brilliant. The actors, especially Cate Blanchett, are so profoundly good at what they do, it was not like being at a film or play, but more like being a voyeur watching a life unfold. And the story, as told by the team putting this film together, is possibly the most unnervingly true story ever told on film. And I am frankly at a loss how to go on now, knowing that I can't see the rest of it: the dinners, the relaxing into relationship, the constant conversation between Carol and Terese that involves no spoken words. I am devastated that I don't get to see the next Act, or even the next scene. And that, my friends, makes for an Oscar winner...

Stunning. I have given only two 5 star reviews ever in my life. This movie was the first. There is no way to sell you on it. You either love the story, or you don't. But if you do, there is no German film I've ever seen that can rival this masterpiece. The only reason it doesn't sit in the number one spot is because IMDB won't let it share that place with Carol.

Hepburn, Clift, and Elizabeth Taylor in one of the most devastating of all Tennessee Williams' plays. Gay undertones, cannibalism, a threatened lobotomy and Kathrine Hepburn the gone off the rails mother in the most profoundly moving of all her roles. Blanche Dubois was a collected understatement of ennui compared to this role. Worth every minute.

Peter Dinklage maybe one of my favorite male actors, ever. And Patricia Clarkson is devastatingly honest in this film. Worth every minute.

Interesting note: Christine Vachon was a producer for this film as well as 2015's Carol.

I'm pretty sure that Kenneth Brannagh is the best Shakespeare producer/actor of my generation. This movie is absolutely one of the best renditions of any Shakespeare play I have ever seen. Production values are of the highest caliber, acting is second to none and I am frankly brought to tears every time I see the St Crispin's day speech. As someone who grew up reading Shakespeare for fun and for school, I cannot recommend any other version of any play more than this one.

And in direct contradiction of my review of Henry V, I offer Kenneth Brannagh's version of Hamlet as the most brilliant revisioning of a Shakespeare play I've seen. Costumes, staging, language and feel are all much different than the original play, but damned if he didn't make us care even more than we ever thought possible for our friend young Hamlet and if there is a better Ophelia on film, I have yet to see or hear of it.