Cinematic style: Films that encapsulate my personal style (inspired from @gnoissienne‘s post)
From top left to right: Gilda (1946), Hugo (2011), Skyfall (2012), The Great Gatsby (2013), Funny Face (1957), Stoker (2013), Under the Skin (2013), Coco Before Chanel (2009), The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014), Anna Karenina (2012)
do u have any film recommendations? like what are ur fav films?
AAHHH okay short list in no particular order:
inception (2010) rebel without a cause (1955) beginners (2010) the shining (1980) león the professional (1994) amélie (2001) 2001: a space odyssey (1968) chungking express (1994) whiplash (2014) my own private idaho (1991) romeo+juliet (1996) taxi driver (1976) trainspotting (1996) the secret of roan inish (1994) dead poets society (1989) reservoir dogs (1992) pacific rim (2013) princess mononoke (1997) inglourious basterds (2009) the hunt (2012) the fall (2006) chicago (2002) kiki’s delivery service (1989) american beauty (1999) kill your darlings (2013) clerks (1994) gone girl (2014) drive (2011) fight club (1999) the social network (2010) akira (1988) electrick children (2012) boogie nights (1997) the princess diaries (2001) free fall (2013) sympathy for mr. vengeance (2002) hedwig and the angry inch (2001) zodiac (2007) when harry met sally (1989) pulp fiction (1994) kill bill: vol 1 (2003) battle royale (2000) hairspray (2007) beetlejuice (1988) jesus camp (2006) the sound of music (1965) the virgin suicides (1999) harold and maude (1971) the wind rises (2013) the place beyond the pines (2012) heathers (1989) the breakfast club (1985) carrie (1976) four rooms (1995) atonement (2007) being john malkovich (1999) good will hunting (1997) before the fall (2004) pride and prejudice (2005) i killed my mother (2009) prisoners (2013) no country for old men (2007) the great gatsby (2012) from dusk till dawn (1996) brokeback mountain (2005) the good, the bad, and the ugly (1966) chinatown (1974) footloose (1984) eternal sunshine of the spotless mind (2004) se7en (1995) v for vendetta (2005) her (2013) lost in translation (2003) but i’m a cheerleader (1999) high fidelity (2000) black swan (2010) moonrise kingdom (2012) clueless (1995) gattaca (1997) juno (2007)
those r all the ones i can think of right now but yeah!!! movies!
family and I first moved to the United States, I actively tried to make myself
more American. I succeeded in conditioning myself to speak with an American accent
with only a slight Embassy Kid undertone but on some level, my efforts are
futile. I think apple pie is disgusting, I fell asleep during the one baseball
game I ever attended, and, drumroll please, I am not a fan of The Great
Gatsby. “Over the Love” was featured on the soundtrack of the 2012 film
directed by Baz Luhrmann and to further blaspheme my name, I thought the movie
was better than the book or at least, wasn’t as universally praised such that
it fell massively short of the pedestal people put it on. I heard the criticism
of the soundtrack being too anachronistic, with Fergie and Lana del Rey and
Florence + the Machine, but in some way, this haphazard selection seemed far
more appropriate than explicitly jazz age music since the primary
characteristic of the Roaring Twenties was change and conglomerations of the
old and new, the end of the Gilded Age and the euphoria before the despair of
the Great Depression.
any case, I think “Over the Love” defines the dark underbelly of the American
Dream in a way that’s less hackneyed than the novel with its literal Valley of
the Ashes. Its literal juxtaposition of love and death is pronounced without
being affected and subtler than the novel or the film. It is the direct confrontation
of the hypocrisy of the Gilded Age and utilizes the long-standing metaphor of
the green light that illuminated the downfall of Gatsby’s dream in Fitzgerald’s
disclosure, a lot of my dislike for Gatsby comes from two factors: first, F.
Scott Fitzgerald was an awful husband, stimulating panic attacks in his wife
Zelda and admitting her into mental hospitals and then pilfering her work and
passing it off as his own. On further consideration, in spite of his friend
Ernest Hemingway being derided as the ultimate misogynist of the Lost Generation,
I have to give that particular distinction to Fitzgerald because in spite of
Hemingway’s womanizing and alcoholism, at least he never intentionally drove
any of his wives into psychosis. I think that Fitzgerald might have seen
himself as Nick Carraway, but in all honesty, he reminds me far more of Gatsby
with his delusions of grandeur and obsessiveness with Daisy. Plus, during AP
English junior year of high school, we had to perform a musical on a section of
The Great Gatsby and it was the physical representation of a chain of
dominos tumbling down while tinny arrangements of Vampire Weekend songs inappropriately
provided the soundtrack (sorry Tina, but it’s true). I sang and I danced and I
sneezed at possibly the most abjectly inopportune moment and whoever has that
video has some great blackmail material on all of us. But, the overalls I wore
when playing Wilson were as fashionable as they come, and I used rehearsals to sneak
off with my boyfriend at the time for hours on end, which ended up really
annoying my group for some reason not to mention my parents when they inadvertently
Love” is rather reminiscent of Zadie Smith’s take on New York City. I hadn’t
spent much time in New York before college but I’ve been spending increasing amounts
of time in the city and from an outsider’s perspective that has seen a lot of
the world, I relate to her conflicting emotions about the city. Smith published
“White Teeth” in 2000 when she was in her early 20s and it was the first
“adult” novel I ever read. Her voice thankfully lacked both the overly romantic
and the hypercritical voices that I had come to associate with most millennial
writers and absolutely despise. Her appraisal on New York is as sharp and
biting as hers on London but stops short of true disdain or contempt. My favorite passage from her essay, “Find
Your Beach” which appeared in the New York Times Book Review last October is: “You don’t come to live here unless the
delusion of a reality shaped around your own desires isn’t a strong aspect of
your personality. “A reality shaped around your own desires”- there’s something
sociopathic about that ambition.”
nature of New York is almost an exaggerated state of the American Dream,
individualism to an extreme level combined with an exacting desire to maintain
social order and propriety. The West Coast is a different sort of uptight than
New York because people are encouraged to hide their innate tendencies with a
mask of laissez faire attitude towards life, which makes New York all the more
jarring. The city doesn’t coddle you, allowing you to be a child who cares for
nothing more than Ghirardelli and good strong wine like San Francisco, or hide
from the dark of the world in quiet rain and pseudo-hipster music clubs reeking
of clove cigarettes like Seattle does, but faces the dark of the world with an
almost vindictive attitude that says “The world sucks and we’re going to revel
in the awful by being at the very top no matter who we have to drag down in the
process.” And it’s also grossly expensive to live there on top of everything
“Over the Love” has that same maddened state
of calm, unceasing and getting more frenzied as the song progresses but with no
hint of losing control because from what I know about New Yorkers, they value
their sense of control more than almost anything else in the world. The
gender roles are also more defined than on the West Coast, and to be aware of it is
crippling, just ask Ellen Olenska; the white lace gloves came off and they
can’t ever be put back on as if no such realization occurred. The women are to be like Daisy Buchanan in a way, beautiful and light and never off their game, but on some level, accepting of their lot in life in a way I can never be. They are to be attractive and intelligent, strong and independent but never strong and independent in a way that visibly emasculates their partners.
“Over the Love”
feels like Florence’s search for some semblance of humanity in the forced
stoicism of New York City and when she finally finds it, she’s at a loss because
it’s not compassionate or merciful but as revolting as humanity can get. But
the only road we all go down is towards death, and the song ends with that
menacing repeated line “I can see the green light, I can see it in your eyes”
because some emotions are universal no matter how devastating they end up
The trailer for The Great Gatsby has stirred up quite the buzz. See this article were two Huffington Post editors discuss the film, the characters, and more. How do YOU feel about it?
Jay-Z! Kanye! Jack White Doing U2! The trailer for Baz Luhrmann’s upcoming adaptation of “The Great Gatsby” caused a bit of an uproar as soon as it landed on the internet on Tuesday afternoon. Some thought it was a beautiful and extremely encouraging sign for what’s to come, while others found it overblown and generally disappointing.
Here at HuffPost, two of our editors – Kia Makarechi on Entertainment and Andrew Losowsky on Books – found some time to chat about the film’s casting and overall aesthetic. Read their comments on the trailer below, vote in the poll that follows and weigh in with your own thoughts in the comments. The film hits theaters on Dec. 25.
Makarechi: First off, I’m a bit ashamed to admit I had high hopes. The song – I don’t think the anachronism bothered me so much as its irrelevance. It’s too obvious to use for anything other than mood. The title and the scant few relevant lyrics (“No Church in the Wild,” “Love is cursed by monogamy,” “What’s a god to a non-believer, who don’t believe in anything?”) seem like too pedestrian of a connection to be included. Also, they should have cut out Frank Ocean’s vocals and just used the bass line.
Losowsky: I loved what Luhrmann did with “Romeo and Juliet,” but that was a tale of youthful exuberance. “Moulin Rouge” was ridiculous and enjoyable, but that was a melodrama. “Gatsby” is a different beast altogether. It’s a tale of extravagant boredom, of wealth that exists seemingly without consequence, romanticism that fails to gloss over love. I have no problem with loose adaptations of novels – they are, after all, different media, that have different narrative demands and expectations. But the biggest question is, does it still feel like “Gatsby”?
My first issue is with the casting. The eponymous character is a blank slate, on which stories great and evil can be placed with equal ease. Think Viggo Mortensen in “A History of Violence”; the movie rests on the ability to stare at this man and think “Could he?” Leo, on the other hand, is famously baby-faced. He couldn’t let the shadow of war and bootlegging shudder through his visage, even if he wanted to. He doesn’t have the cheekbones.
Also, though he’s perfectly fine in some movies, he mostly does have three ways of acting, all of which are in evidence in this trailer: Leo smug. Leo sad. LEO SMASH.
If Mortensen isn’t available (or can’t be made to look convincingly enough “a year or two over thirty” as the book has it) then how about Michael Fassbender? The immensely creepy “Prometheus” trailer should convince you of his ability to make you both like and fear him through a simple smile.
Makarechi: After “J. Edgar,” I’ll never doubt that studios believe Leo can play anyone. But Gatsby seems more textured than Leo – more subtle. Leo’s roles, from “Catch Me If You Can” to “Inception” to “The Departed,” revolve around a certain pace that seems out of sync with something like Gatsby. There’s a different sort of urgency, one that is more pained and less deliberate, to Gatsby’s character. I can’t see Leo handling the crippling insecurity that Gatsby faces and then making the transition into a man emboldened by love to the point of standing up to the brutish Tom Buchanan.
Makarechi: Carey Mulligan as Daisy. Daisy, who Fitzgerald brilliantly describes as speaking with “an unthoughtful sadness,” is so far removed from the quiet charm we’ve come to know Mulligan for her inclusion seems an insurmountable conflict. She’d be better suited by a Michelle Williams, or someone like a younger Jessica Simpson (half joking on the latter).
Losowsky: Carey Mulligan is a little too elfin for my liking. Daisy is a girl pretending to be a woman; Anna Kendrick or, perhaps better, Abbie Cornish seem more suited to the role.
Losowsky: Since I first heard of his being cast, Maguire never convinced me as being able to portray Nick Carroway. Though he can pull off the cheeky smile of privilege well enough, as an actor he’s not bold enough to mistakenly appear confident, then lose his ability to keep up with events, and then end wiser and sadder in the end. Let alone sweep a champion golfer off her putter.
I’d prefer to see Zac Efron in the role. He played the ingenue brilliantly in “Me and Orson Welles,” while also proving he could play the second string to a charismatic bastard extremely well.
Makarechi: Tobey Maguire as Nick just seems wrong to me. All of “The Great Gatsby” comes to us from Carraway, who must be someone with a larger presence. Nick is funny – really funny – and arrogant yet self-aware. Tobey Maguire is Spider-Man. I can’t see him affecting “a haunting loneliness in the metropolitan twilight,” as the text will demand of him. It’s just wrong. Give it to someone like, and I really hesitate to say this, Gosling.
Maguire and DiCaprio look like they’re playing dress up. Gatsby, of course, actually is playing dress up, but at least he’s doing it in clothes that don’t look like he put them on for the first time.
Losowsky: However, what troubles me most about the entire affair are the nature of the onscreen parties. In the book, they are redolent of cocktails and boredom, filled with attempts to provide fleeting distractions from tiresome conversations among uninteresting people. When Fitzgerald writes “between the numbers, people were doing ‘stunts’ all over the garden while happy vacuous bursts of laughter rose toward the summer sky,” I’m not sure he was thinking of bacchanalian set pieces that would rival an orgy staged by Bono and Julie Taymar for the joint birthdays of Russian oligarchs and Silvio Berlusconi. Yet this is what we are being presented. In glorious 3-D at that.
Based solely on this short trailer, this movie looks like it’s going to be a spectacular, blockbusting melodrama of epic proportions. It might make for great cinema, but it certainly isn’t “Great Gatsby.”
Makarechi: On another note – I hope they don’t cut out the scene in which Daisy and Tom eat fried chicken after the first bout of catastrophe. I like that scene.