Under most circumstances devoting ten years to the making of a single film would indicate either perfectionism run amok, Hamlet-like indecisiveness, severely outsized ambition or some combination of the three. In the case of Don’t Think I’ve Forgotten; Cambodia’s Lost Rock & Roll, director John Pirozzi’s decade of work reflects the painstaking search for interview subjects, the arduous uncovering of material and admirable patience in bringing this historical narrative into complete focus.
Continue reading “The benefits of tenacity and clarity of vision: a review of John Pirozzi’s Don’t Think I’ve Forgotten”
Endeavoring to gather firm knowledge on the complexities of a foreign culture elevates familiarity of its popular art, be it good, bad or somewhere in between, to a simple necessity. This is merely part of what makes John Pirozzi’s Don’t Think I’ve Forgotten: Cambodia’s Lost Rock & Roll so welcome from the midst of a perpetually crowded music documentary field, though in fact the film’s subject matter hasn’t exactly emerged out of the aether.
Continue reading “Don’t Think I’ve Forgotten: A music nut’s primer”
For all the subsequent hoo-ha over its supposed stuffiness, the 1981 two-hander My Dinner with André is an experimental film. It’s also frequently burdened with the descriptor “theatrical,” a categorization ringing true in the stage backgrounds of its actors Wallace Shawn and Andre Gregory, and further emphasized by the pair essentially working out their parts prior to the involvement of director Louis Malle.
Continue reading “My Dinner with André – Cult or Anything But – A Review”
Manos Sucias translates into English as “dirty hands.” Literal meaning can be applied to those words, but unsurprisingly the greater significance is figurative; in movie terms, such gestures often portend overstatement that’s easily exacerbated by a filmmaker’s youthful intensity, but if imperfect, Josef Kubota Wladyka’s first feature benefits from restraint and economy. It’s a largely satisfying debut holding promise for the future.
Continue reading “An unembellished look at the Colombian drug trade; a review of Josef Kubota Wladyka’s Manos Sucias”