Apocalypse Now (Redux) (review)
There are some serious gaps in my film education, I’m sorry to admit, but one of those gaps was recently filled when I saw *Apocalypse Now* for the first time.
There are some serious gaps in my film education, I’m sorry to admit, but one of those gaps was recently filled when I saw *Apocalypse Now* for the first time.

It upset me tremendously, and disturbed me and moved me. The film does what truly great science fiction does, which is get to think about what it means to be human. So I’m having a bit of an identity crisis, I think, an identity crisis on behalf of the entire species homo sapien.
I’ve seen Gladiator half a dozen times now — thrice on a big screen and thrice on DVD — and it gets me deeper in the gut every time: By the time Maximus whispers his final words, assuring Lucilla that “Lucius is safe,” I’m starting to sniffle. By the time Juba is reverently burying Maximus’s totems of his wife and son, I’m bawling.

Elvis Presley takes a job as a roustabout at a carnival, gets slapped by a lot by girls with frighteningly waspish waists, and sings corny carny songs. In superbright Technicolor! Silly movie.
So I leave the screening room, in awe at Nolan’s achievement, a young writer/director coming out of nowhere with a film that is bold enough not only to mess with our minds by redefining our understanding of how time flows onscreen but also has the audacity to use that radical storytelling conceit to question what it is that makes us human.
What is *The Third Man* is no great mystery: it’s one of the greatest expressions of the noir attitude ever committed to film.
There’s a lot of typing in Antitrust, and when there isn’t typing there’s a lot of running up and down stairs. It’s very soothing, in an altered-mental-state kind of way, like banging your head rhythmically against a wall.

This gorgeously shot 1961 Disney movie is half awwww-inspiring romp through evergreen forests, half near-documentary about the Darwinian horrors of the food chain disguised as a kiddie flick.

I am very happy to report that Cast Away is terrific. And touching and smart and willing to grant the audience a modicum of intelligence. I will never again be able to look at a purple and orange FedEx logo and not think about Tom Hanks and Cast Away. This is an unforgettable film, full of imagery and emotion that lingers, one that far exceeds even the high expectations that accompany it.

This is a nice bit of fun for classic mystery buffs, full of wisecracking reporters, nervous butlers, priceless Chinese treasures, and lots of double-breasted suits and fedoras.