frumalens
Joined Apr 2023
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Ratings49
frumalens's rating
Reviews13
frumalens's rating
As a Paramore loving MySpace user in 2008, this incredibly nostalgic and tender coming of age film felt like a testimony to the girl I used to be.
"Didi" blends its originality with elements of "Mid90s", "Pen15", and "Eighth Grade" to become a charismatic and multi-layered portrait of adolescence, and a charming addition to the genre. One I am sure I will come to revisit time and time again.
Despite not being American or a boy or Asian, I was able to recognise myself in every frame. Because, although some experiences and expectations may be unique to individual cultures, does anyone really emerge from their teenage embers unburnt?
"Didi" blends its originality with elements of "Mid90s", "Pen15", and "Eighth Grade" to become a charismatic and multi-layered portrait of adolescence, and a charming addition to the genre. One I am sure I will come to revisit time and time again.
Despite not being American or a boy or Asian, I was able to recognise myself in every frame. Because, although some experiences and expectations may be unique to individual cultures, does anyone really emerge from their teenage embers unburnt?
"Inspired by true events." Four words that will knock the wind out of your lungs as the film fades to black.
In the dirt and smog of 1919 Copenhagen emerges this atmospheric, haunting portrait of one woman's descent into the grim reality of impoverished motherhood.
In the age of short attention spans that are worringly shortening, von Horn's dark film may be a little slow for the average modern movie goer. But for those who can engage with it, what awaits is a black and white cinematic feast with imagery reminiscent of silent movies that is both a treat for the eyes and a dagger to the heart.
In the dirt and smog of 1919 Copenhagen emerges this atmospheric, haunting portrait of one woman's descent into the grim reality of impoverished motherhood.
In the age of short attention spans that are worringly shortening, von Horn's dark film may be a little slow for the average modern movie goer. But for those who can engage with it, what awaits is a black and white cinematic feast with imagery reminiscent of silent movies that is both a treat for the eyes and a dagger to the heart.
I walked into this film blind, and departed blurry eyed. A hymn to those who have vanished but refuse to be erased, "I'm Still Here" returns to the shadowed corridors of Brazil's military dictatorship and peels back the skin of its country's living wound to reveal a raw requiem for the known, unknown, named, and unnamed.
It is visually a stunning movie. Shot on 35mm Kodak film, every frame is rich in colour and feeling; lingering on the sun kissed landscapes of Rio, on the faces lined with grief, on hands clutching photographs worn soft at the edges. In an overstuffed digital age of streaming and short attention spans, a film embracing the traditions of cinema's forefathers is a rare beauty; and "I'm Still Here" is so very beautiful.
Under the nuanced direction of Walter Salles, the grand tide of history never once overpowered the intimate struggles of a family left adrift after the sudden disappearance of its patriarch, Rubens Paiva. Vibrating through the veins of the family's story is the stubborn pulse of survival; lead by its matriarch, Eunice. Played with luminous depth by Fernandez Torres, her mere presence becomes a monument to endurance.
With a cracked open heart, I crumbled under the realisation that the film was in fact based on a true, lived experience. As the veil of ignorance lifted from my tear rimmed eyes, and the real faces of the Paiva family appeared on screen, I became more than just a consumer of cinema; I became a witness to history. To a story about the weight of waiting; about love persisting in the face of silence.
It is visually a stunning movie. Shot on 35mm Kodak film, every frame is rich in colour and feeling; lingering on the sun kissed landscapes of Rio, on the faces lined with grief, on hands clutching photographs worn soft at the edges. In an overstuffed digital age of streaming and short attention spans, a film embracing the traditions of cinema's forefathers is a rare beauty; and "I'm Still Here" is so very beautiful.
Under the nuanced direction of Walter Salles, the grand tide of history never once overpowered the intimate struggles of a family left adrift after the sudden disappearance of its patriarch, Rubens Paiva. Vibrating through the veins of the family's story is the stubborn pulse of survival; lead by its matriarch, Eunice. Played with luminous depth by Fernandez Torres, her mere presence becomes a monument to endurance.
With a cracked open heart, I crumbled under the realisation that the film was in fact based on a true, lived experience. As the veil of ignorance lifted from my tear rimmed eyes, and the real faces of the Paiva family appeared on screen, I became more than just a consumer of cinema; I became a witness to history. To a story about the weight of waiting; about love persisting in the face of silence.