Need a movie…
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IDiot
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Escanaba in da moonlight
She’d probably enjoy King Pin. How that movie didn’t win an Oscar, I’ll never know…
TheGreek
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Brat- a Russian film
Once Were Warriors- a NZ film
Chopper-an Aussie film
Once Were Warriors- a NZ film
Chopper-an Aussie film
JV842
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The Wind and the Lion
JV842
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Zulu and Zulu Dawn
Bonasababy
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I'd go for some of the best Westerns ever made.
Once upon a time in the west.
The man who shot Liberty Valance.
Bonasababy
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Maybe due to one of the most disgusting scenes ever filmed?
Tradewind
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if you like old westerns....
Duel at Diablo James Garner and Sidney Portier
The Professionals Lee Marvin
Second hand lions
Duel at Diablo James Garner and Sidney Portier
The Professionals Lee Marvin
Second hand lions
I have to say, reading through these responses has left me genuinely troubled.
Standard war movies. Standard law enforcement movies. Westerns. The same fifteen films being referenced over and over, as if sacred works handed down from our forefathers of Middle America.
This is exactly why cinema has become so stagnant, I think.
A man finally gets an evening alone in his own home, free from the demands of work, marriage, and social obligation, and the recommendation we give him is basically what's been running on Grit and TNT for the last 20 years.
Where is the curiosity? Where is the willingness to sit quietly before something unfamiliar and allow it to rearrange your understanding of the medium?
I remember this very clearly from my own life, years ago, I had an evening to myself under almost identical circumstances. I had finished my chores, my little apartment was quiet, and I found myself standing before my television with the peculiar freedom that comes when nobody else can see what you are watching. I could have put on Die Hard. I could have watched Joe Kidd. Instead, I stumbled across a commemorative series of the obscure Czech avant-garde director Radek Vojtěch, whose work had been described by one critic as "an argument between a camera and the concept of human time," as I recall. I proceeded to watch three hours of a film called The Room Where Nothing Happened.
There was no dialogue. There was almost no movement. For approximately eleven minutes, a man sat beside a window while a cabbage slowly became visible in the background... and somewhere around minute eight, I finally started to get it.
I understood that I had spent my entire life consuming movies instead of experiencing them. That evening changed the way I watch films forever.
That is what these solitary nights are for. You have a rare opportunity to explore. To watch something strange. Something foreign. Something made by a Romanian who was subsequently imprisoned by the state for refusing to explain the third act. Or something in black and white where a train arrives at a station for 47 minutes and somehow represents the collapse of Western civilization. A particular film that stands out, and is fairly recent, is the modern American telling of a man who battles his lifelong inadequacies in front of his coming of age daughter - it was a brilliant little film called Paul Blart: Mall Cop. If you've not seen it, I'd highly recommend it.
Standard war movies. Standard law enforcement movies. Westerns. The same fifteen films being referenced over and over, as if sacred works handed down from our forefathers of Middle America.
This is exactly why cinema has become so stagnant, I think.
A man finally gets an evening alone in his own home, free from the demands of work, marriage, and social obligation, and the recommendation we give him is basically what's been running on Grit and TNT for the last 20 years.
Where is the curiosity? Where is the willingness to sit quietly before something unfamiliar and allow it to rearrange your understanding of the medium?
I remember this very clearly from my own life, years ago, I had an evening to myself under almost identical circumstances. I had finished my chores, my little apartment was quiet, and I found myself standing before my television with the peculiar freedom that comes when nobody else can see what you are watching. I could have put on Die Hard. I could have watched Joe Kidd. Instead, I stumbled across a commemorative series of the obscure Czech avant-garde director Radek Vojtěch, whose work had been described by one critic as "an argument between a camera and the concept of human time," as I recall. I proceeded to watch three hours of a film called The Room Where Nothing Happened.
There was no dialogue. There was almost no movement. For approximately eleven minutes, a man sat beside a window while a cabbage slowly became visible in the background... and somewhere around minute eight, I finally started to get it.
I understood that I had spent my entire life consuming movies instead of experiencing them. That evening changed the way I watch films forever.
That is what these solitary nights are for. You have a rare opportunity to explore. To watch something strange. Something foreign. Something made by a Romanian who was subsequently imprisoned by the state for refusing to explain the third act. Or something in black and white where a train arrives at a station for 47 minutes and somehow represents the collapse of Western civilization. A particular film that stands out, and is fairly recent, is the modern American telling of a man who battles his lifelong inadequacies in front of his coming of age daughter - it was a brilliant little film called Paul Blart: Mall Cop. If you've not seen it, I'd highly recommend it.
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