Is a film that is almost devoid of its main component still a film?
PARIS — Dance that pushes sensual and temporal boundaries and sculpture that pushes formal boundaries share a solid connection while simultaneously remaining, in many respects, in distinct opposition.
Albert Serra bothers critics. In the last 10 years, the 41-year-old Catalan has made a handful of slow films and installations.
It is not surprising that the art crowd is at home on Maine’s coastline, where Hartley and Homer filled their canvases with crashing tides, and where Longfellow filled his mind’s chalice with classic verse, but I am compelled to wonder about what (if any) Maine connection has been forged by the documentary arts?
In an increasingly appalling atmosphere of political stagnation, failed negotiations, and yet another ceasefire that won’t last, there is at least some good news coming out from Syria these days.
David Daniels’s animation is explosive.
Recently, I had to explain to a friend without internet access who Werner Herzog is.
Chantal Akerman’s death by suicide in October 2015, led me to revisit many of her films and to watch new ones, among them Je tu il elle of 1975.
Roughly 30 minutes into Pieter van Huystee’s first feature-length film, Hieronymus Bosch: Touched by the Devil, Gabriele Finaldi, former deputy director of conservation and research at the Museo del Prado in Madrid, gives a sterling, succinct answer as to why El Bosco (as the Dutch artist is known in Spain) and his works are a source of continual fascination and study.
Like the diabolical spawn of Franz Kafka and Michael Haneke, the Greek filmmaker Yorgos Lanthimos sets unfortunate humans loose in mazes of arbitrary, absurd authority and films them with an indifference that borders on cruelty.
Martin Bell’s Streetwise (1984) endures. It’s a documentary that has spawned countless discussions on homeless children over the years.
Telling the story of Eva Hesse’s life and work presents one major challenge: as a narrative arc, it is necessarily truncated.