19 min. 48 sec.
directed by Boris Stepantsev
written by Vadim Korostylev
art directors Anatoly Savchenko, Petr Repkin
artists O. Ghemmerling, Lev Arkadyev
animators Anatoly Abarenov, Galina Barinova, Antonina Alyoshina, V. Dolgikh, Youry Butyrin, Leonid Kayukov, Tatiana Taranovich, Victor Arsentiev, Olga Orlova, Anatoly Petrov, S. Zhutovskaya
cameraman Michael Druyan
music I. Yakushenko
sound Boris Filchikov
script editor Raisa Frichinskaya
voice artists Emma Treivas, Michael Yanshin (Tsar) , Clara Rumyanova (Vassilissa) , Elena Ponsova (The Old lady and the Librarian) , Rina Zelenaya (Vovka) Continue reading
Generally thought of as a monster movie (not difficult to understand when your title character is a 50-foot-tall gorilla with a habit of killing people who get in his way), King Kong is actually an old-fashioned adventure story on the grand scale, complete with fearless hunters in search of uncharted islands, angry natives appeasing their god, damsels in distress, and a dashing hero on hand to save said damsel. Much of this story probably seemed a bit cliché even when King Kong was first released in 1933, but directors Merian C. Cooper and Ernest B. Schoedsack tell their tale with two-fisted gusto, leavened with a genuine sense of wonder, and the result captures the imagination from the start and never lets go. It also helps that they had a cast capable of handling the heroics in grand form while knowing how to play the abundant comic relief in appropriate style; Robert Armstrong’s Carl Denham is ham at its tastiest, Bruce Cabot’s Jack Driscoll is a hero with his feet planted solidly on the ground (and his tongue just entering his cheek), and has any screen heroine ever screamed more eloquently than Fay Wray? Willis H. O’Brien’s stop-motion effects animation was legendary in its day, and it retains its magic today; while technology has progressed considerably since King Kong, O’Brien was able to give his great ape a personality, and Kong’s moments of fear, curiosity, pain, and occasional goofiness gave him a sympathetic, ultimately tragic dimension that adds immeasurably to the picture’s effectiveness. And Max Steiner’s bombastic score is always there to cheer the picture along when its energy starts to flag. While the 1976 remake already seems hopelessly dated, the original King Kong remains rousing entertainment with brains, brawn, and a heart. — Mark Deming Continue reading
First part of a “trilogy of modern times” (the second one is La Blessure, and third – La question humaine).
Paria follows the path of two characters, Momo and Victor. Momo –remarkably played by Gérald Thomassin– lives in the streets, while Victor, on the edge of poverty, loses his apartment when he loses his job. Their destinies will come across during the night of the “millennium” which will be celebrated in a social pick-up bus. By a brilliant inversion of the points of view, the opening sequence, shot form the bus, in which the city night is threatening, takes a totally different aspect in the middle of the film. The events take another relief as the outcast have been given a face, taking back their humanity. In the wonderful sequence that follows, Blaise, one of the homeless is taken care of in a refuge where the outcast are healed and washed, far away in the suburbs, away from the good society. Victor and Momo, thanks to love, will find hope in a better future. Filmed in a documentary way, in DV under the cold urban lights, Paria catches the dark side of the city, the space between the spaces, the left-overs, and frees the speech of the outcast the society don’t know what to do with. (link) Continue reading
The first feature film written and directed by Tolga Karaçelik, better known for his award-winning short films such as Rapunzel, Toll Booth tells a story of miscommunication, isolation and desperate alienation via a conflict between a father and his son. Confined to his own world of dreams, introvert, and reticent, Kenan is a toll booth attendant, who lives with his ailing father. Kenan’s drab life stuck in routines between his toll booth and home will change the day a new manager comes for supervision. (~iksv.org) Continue reading
The sights and sounds of industrial Nottingham resonate with a grimy thud as Arthur Seaton works his tedious factory job. Through ale, women and practical jokes, he vents his frustrations against the “establishments” of work and marriage… until his reckless ways lead him to a night that changes his life. Forced to reevaluate his convictions, Arthur must decide exactly what he stands for. Continue reading
Sometimes it’s easier to enter a work through the window than through the front door in order to catch it at its most intimate. The hypothesis of this interesting documentary is that the truth of Hervé Guibert the artist was that he was a thwarted film-maker.
In his well-researched film, Anthony Doncque retraces the genealogy of Guibert’s cinematic desire from his failed admission to IDHEC to the late phase of video journals accompanying his agony.
To create a film was Guibert’s obsession. In the 1980s, he wrote three film scripts, one of which, co-authored with Isabelle Adjani, would have turned into a film if the actress hadn’t suddenly vanished into thin air. Guibert commented on this betrayal in his book A l’ami qui ne m’a pas sauvé la vie. Adjani, in turn, talks (only off screen) about this failed project Continue reading
Tamayo, a lovable girl, is taken care of by a prominent family. However, she is the love child of business tycoon and his lover but lives with him and his arranged wife’s family and granddaughter, Tsukiyo who hates Tamayo. Her crime lord father has arranged 3
android bodyguards to protect her. The first android is handsome & has great skills.
The second has beast-like strength, and the third is less skillful. One day the father gets hospitalized and his will is found. The will says that he is leaving his fortune solely to Tamayo. When Tsukiyo knows this she plots to regain her inheritance. Continue reading