I am a firm believer that movies (especially American movies) portraying teenagers and high schools and these sorts of things are usually terribly wrong on so many levels: first of all, most of the actors are not even teenagers (Rachel McAdams was 26 when she played Regina George in Mean Girls), every high school looks the same and relies on the same stereotypes (maybe it’s my European point of view, who knows. Please, don’t take me wrong, I still love Mean Girls (the screenplay is simply brilliant) and I grew up obsessed with High School Musical, but the way these types of films depict high school is simply stereotypical and in a way it makes me feel that whomever wrote or directed them is out of touch with the youth and with the real topic of social anxiety among teenagers. Even movies such as The Duff, which criticizes the way teens who do not fit the mold are simply cast aside by popular teens, ends up being a stereotype blown out of proportions. The idea may be realistic but the “mise en scène” is plain wrong. Which is why The Edge of Seventeen is such an important movie and has simply moved me: it is the most relatable movie that I have ever seen, probably in my whole life.
“I believe the characters we read on the page become more real than the men who stand beside us”.
If I could sum up Jackie in a quote that would be it. A lot has been said about Jackie, mostly (not to say almost exclusively) about Natalie Portman’s flawless performance. I think Jackie is much more than that, it is an extraordinary biopic (“biopic”) about perception, image creation and the thin line between reality and fiction at a time when most of our contact with reality comes from preconstructed images from the Internet and the media.
With the Oscars just a few days away, Barry Jenkins’ Moonlight has garnered unanimous critical acclaim and 8 Academy Award nominations, and though predicted to lose Best Picture Oscar to La La Land (an Academy’s favorite), it is nonetheless a must-see that would have easily won the major award any other year. Jenkins’ exquisite triptych on masculinity, sexuality, love and family is quite the perfect movie.
Kenneth Lonergan’s return to the big screen as both writer and director after a hiatus of five years has come in the form of this independent realistic film called Manchester by the Sea. Reminiscent of his previous works revolving around family drama and complex characters (themes also present in his directorial debut You Can Count On Me), Manchester by the Sea tells the story of Lee Chandler (Casey Affleck), a janitor who leads a meaningless life, who has to go back to his seaside hometown when his brother Joe dies of a heart disease, making him the legal tutor of his teenage son Patrick.
As much as I hate to admit it, more often than not I talk about movies that I’ve never seen (because let’s face it, we all do). Personally, this was the case with Crash (Paul Haggins, 2004), the movie that for the past decade has been considered on of the biggest Oscar snubs ever (EVER), winning Best Picture the year Brokeback Mountain was meant to win all the awards. For the past few years I had been repeating over and over that Brokeback Mountain should have won the well-deserved best picture award because of the homophobic mentality of most of its voters. Anyway, since I’m a film student I thought it would be a good idea to watch Crash because perhaps I was being unfair and the movie wasn’t so bad after all and I was wrong… well, it turns out I wasn’t.
As a self-proclaimed serious cinephile, I do not usually enjoy contemporary crime-thriller films. I use the word “enjoy” because I believe not watching films of a certain genre is, in my opinion, like ignoring the cinema of a specific film industry. With this in mind I attended an advanced screening of The Adderall Diaries, a “crime-thriller” film directed by Pamela Romanowsky and starring James Franco, set to be released on April 15.