Mel Brooks’ irreverent satire of the entertainment industry’s grotesque exploitations wastes no time in zooming from one plot point to the next like a Marx Brothers routine, using the great comedic talents of Gene Wilder and Zero Mostel to not just match his brisk pace, but to push it even further.
Through Jia Zhangke’s interweaved motifs of colours and landforms in Ash is Purest White, he creates an epic character study of feminine strength, and its moulding in the fiery heat of adversity.
With a rigorous dedication to turning the Gothic architecture of Wuthering Heights into its own eerie character, William Wyler cuts right to the heart of Emily Brontë’s classic novel, submerging his tragic paramours in a ghostly melancholy that haunts them through life and death.
Keeping the spirit of silent cinema alive, Jacques Tati puts his flair for physicals gags and intricate architectural set pieces to use in Mon Oncle, sending up the consumerist culture of post-war France while offering hope in one playful, eccentric man this world isn’t as superficial, self-centred, or tangled as it seems.
Using the western genre as a simple framework for a self-contained moral tale warning against mob mentality, William A. Wellman’s thoughtful staging in The Ox-Bow Incident finds great empathy in the plight of three falsely-accused men.
There is a glossy sheen to the bizarre, theatrical world that stand-up comedian Henry McHenry lives within, and yet by the end of Annette, Leos Carax raises the question of just how much its peculiar details are simply the warped perceptions of an egomaniac unable to confront a reality that doesn’t place him at its centre.
Robert Wiene creates the look of a demented, Edvard Munch-like painting brought horrifically to life in The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, expressing the nightmarish disorientation of an authoritarian society slowly driving everyone insane.
John Huston breathes cinematic life into James Joyce’s short story, The Dead, in an ode to those deceased loved ones who patiently wait for the living to join them, marking a poignant but fitting end to an illustrious directorial career.
Emerald Fennell never falters in her tonal balancing act of weaving harsh depictions of trauma around gentle nostalgia and humour, thereby creating a moving, thrilling, and darkly incisive black comedy in Promising Young Woman.
As William Friedkin’s demented, expressionistic imagery gradually seeps into the quiet suburbs of America, his patient narrative moves in parallel towards a climactic test of faith, ultimately not just crafting a controversial cultural touchstone, but a masterwork of cinematic horror.
