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About half my best-of’s for 2002 were clear and ready choices, films I fell instantly in love with, that completely blew my mind, that utterly awed me in their fabulosity — I’ll leave it as an exercise to the reader to figure out which those were. Filling out the rest of the list was tough … more…
Steven Spielberg has never made a film like this one before, sharp and bright, lighthearted and witty, underplayed and — dare I say it? — hip.
A movie is never more of a crushing disappointment than when you’ve gotten your hopes up, when against your better judgment you’ve bought into the hype and the advertising and the how-can-it-miss high concept. Imagine how sad the entire geek community is going to be if Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man sucks. (But it can’t suck, right? Right? I mean, it’s Sam Raimi. It’s Spider-Man. Please, whatever movie gods there are, don’t make it suck. Don’t do that to us.)
I told myself I wasn’t gonna cry…
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.
Do screenwriters bother with characterization or motive for Old Scratch? Rarely — the Prince of Darkness is supposed to just coast on his rep as the Ultimate Bad Dude, and yet those selfsame screenwriters must, by storytelling necessity, declaw him, prevent him from taking full advantage of the hellish forces at his command.
While Schindler’s List is the least Spielberg-ian and least showy of the director’s work, it demonstrates an artistry that is at times highly stylized. The film is a study in contrasts and ironies.
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