elder-81604
oct 2021 se unió
Te damos la bienvenida a nuevo perfil
Nuestras actualizaciones aún están en desarrollo. Si bien la versión anterior de el perfil ya no está disponible, estamos trabajando activamente en mejoras, ¡y algunas de las funciones que faltan regresarán pronto! Mantente al tanto para su regreso. Mientras tanto, el análisis de calificaciones sigue disponible en nuestras aplicaciones para iOS y Android, en la página de perfil. Para ver la distribución de tus calificaciones por año y género, consulta nuestra nueva Guía de ayuda.
Distintivos2
Para saber cómo ganar distintivos, ve a página de ayuda de distintivos.
Reseñas1
Clasificación de elder-81604
"Yuni" causes one to leave the theatre in a stage of deep, introspective thought about their life and value of their choices. A character-focused and vibrant picture pinned amongst an otherwise dreary backdrop of crumbling, urbanized cityscape, Kamila Andini's third feature masters the powerful grace of femininity, represented by a character embodying wisdom and power with a childish awe.
A film dripping with Naturalistic beauty, unhindered by the frills of intricate camerawork and sets, "Yuni" feels as though it just so happened to be documented. It simply exists as all life does, allowing you to see what you wouldn't normally. Highlighted by actor chemistry, the feelings of raw tears, the rarely-spoken-about uncomfortability of a young, lusting body and an unsuredness of what to do with it--are spoken through the narratives of friendship, family and the unknown future.
Highlighted by ever-so-gentle strings, the film's scarcity of music and gentility of spoken word suggest deep melancholy and patience. Andini's film speaks just as much in its silence as it does in its words. The production (Ifa Isfansyah) and sound (Lim Ting Li, Alexis Rault) are wondrous and contextually apropos.
Bathed in natural light both literally and in metaphor, "Yuni" viscerally portrays the harsh realities of womanhood in Muslim culture. Surrounded by difficult themes of sex, marriage and a forced sense of maturity, Arawinda Kirana (Yuni) masterfully exudes the qualities of a young girl, full of uncertain hope and struggle. Surrounded by societal affirmations of "luckiness" regarding arranged marriage, she conveys the uncertainty we all would feel if pressured to marry young, unpreparedly.
One would be remiss not to highlight Kevin Ardilova's Yoga, an admirer of Yuni and poet-extraordinaire. His clunky yet loving awkwardness is comically endearing, filled with skittish hope and desire with little confidence to act upon it. He serves as a mirror to every boy with a love interest at that age, in the funniest and kindest of ways.
"Yuni", in a word, could be captured by subtlety. Not only in its style, but also in the nuance of unceremoniousness seen in its characters and their interactions with each other. Never over-preaching its themes, it exemplifies social commentary film at peak self-reflectivity and honesty. Filmed with a subtle documentary style and colorful aura comparable to Barry Jenkins' 2016 Oscar winner "Moonlight", "Yuni" is a fantastic entry point into the lovely world of international cinema.
Award-winning director Bong Joon Ho's claim still rings true: "Once you overcome the one-inch-tall barrier of subtitles, you will be introduced to so many more amazing films."
A film dripping with Naturalistic beauty, unhindered by the frills of intricate camerawork and sets, "Yuni" feels as though it just so happened to be documented. It simply exists as all life does, allowing you to see what you wouldn't normally. Highlighted by actor chemistry, the feelings of raw tears, the rarely-spoken-about uncomfortability of a young, lusting body and an unsuredness of what to do with it--are spoken through the narratives of friendship, family and the unknown future.
Highlighted by ever-so-gentle strings, the film's scarcity of music and gentility of spoken word suggest deep melancholy and patience. Andini's film speaks just as much in its silence as it does in its words. The production (Ifa Isfansyah) and sound (Lim Ting Li, Alexis Rault) are wondrous and contextually apropos.
Bathed in natural light both literally and in metaphor, "Yuni" viscerally portrays the harsh realities of womanhood in Muslim culture. Surrounded by difficult themes of sex, marriage and a forced sense of maturity, Arawinda Kirana (Yuni) masterfully exudes the qualities of a young girl, full of uncertain hope and struggle. Surrounded by societal affirmations of "luckiness" regarding arranged marriage, she conveys the uncertainty we all would feel if pressured to marry young, unpreparedly.
One would be remiss not to highlight Kevin Ardilova's Yoga, an admirer of Yuni and poet-extraordinaire. His clunky yet loving awkwardness is comically endearing, filled with skittish hope and desire with little confidence to act upon it. He serves as a mirror to every boy with a love interest at that age, in the funniest and kindest of ways.
"Yuni", in a word, could be captured by subtlety. Not only in its style, but also in the nuance of unceremoniousness seen in its characters and their interactions with each other. Never over-preaching its themes, it exemplifies social commentary film at peak self-reflectivity and honesty. Filmed with a subtle documentary style and colorful aura comparable to Barry Jenkins' 2016 Oscar winner "Moonlight", "Yuni" is a fantastic entry point into the lovely world of international cinema.
Award-winning director Bong Joon Ho's claim still rings true: "Once you overcome the one-inch-tall barrier of subtitles, you will be introduced to so many more amazing films."