As a grown-up Anakin Skywalker begins to break beneath the weight of duty and desire in Attack of the Clones, George Lucas thoughtfully recaptures the mythic tension of the original Star War trilogy, exposing the corrosive, insidious decay that eats away at the heart of democracy’s heroes, institutions, and ideals.
George Lucas’ myth-making ambitions are undoubtedly bold in The Phantom Menace, serving as a visually and narratively uneven foundation to the darker chapters ahead, yet resolutely daring to ignite the slow-burning fuse of the Star Wars saga’s most tragic, fateful transformation.
It might seem redundant for such a formally consistent director to remake an early success, yet Floating Weeds stands as a powerful testament to Yasujirō Ozu’s artistic evolution over the decades, imbuing this fable of fading relevance and fractured families with an elegant, melancholy maturity.
The pragmatic systems of our modern dating economy severely distort romantic expectations in Materialists, yet as one professional matchmaker learns through her choice between status and connection, it is only inevitable that they should crumble under the primal insistence of human nature.
Although the silent protest of two young boys in Good Morning is aimed at their parents’ refusal to buy a television set, their frustration also extends to the small talk exchanged between grownups, marking an unusual comic turn for Yasujirō Ozu in his satire of everyday, superficial communication.
Penguin Bloom’s bland adaptation of one paralysed athlete’s companionship with an injured magpie is far more a sentimental tribute than a cinematic portrait, edging towards inspiration through its overworked animal metaphor, yet never quite taking flight.
Claire Denis crafts a hypnotic meditation on masculinity, repression, and colonial alienation in Beau Travail, tracing one soldier’s obsessive jealousy within the French Foreign Legion, and rendering the human body a vessel of both discipline and desire.
Yasujirō Ozu’s foray into colour cinematography aligns beautifully with the eloquent optimism of Equinox Flower, tracing one seemingly progressive businessman’s resistance to his daughter’s marriage, and confronting his hypocrisy with gentle humour.
There is a radical passion to Paul Thomas Anderson’s storytelling in One Battle After Another which matches the unruly spirit of the characters themselves, hurtling revolutionary chaos and reactionary absurdity towards impact on a dizzying rollercoaster, and sending one washed-up activist on a desperate mission to save the only family he has left.
The domestic melodrama of Tokyo Twilight is so morose by Yasujirō Ozu’s standards, its darkness seeps into virtually every corner of his meticulous, homely interiors, unearthing guilty secrets within a family shattered by silence, grief, and regret.
