The Fire Rises! (Another fucking mashup.)

But I kinda like this one.

I remember that I went kind of geeky on Counterforce when The Dark Knight came out, so I guess I’m not too surprised about the frenzy I’m frothing myself into here. Or concerned. Not yet, anyway.

Mad Men and Game Of Thrones return soon, so hopefully Counterforce won’t fully degenerate (or ascend) into being Batman fanboy blog. Hopefully not. It won’t become a bag of Batman boners!

Also, Community returns soon, as is apparent by this funny mash up trailer featuring Community mixed with The Dark Knight Rises:

I’m excited.

Everything is coming back.

Anyway, it’s about a week and a half to the return of Community, and then just another few months until The Dark Knight Rises. After that, I guess we won’t have anything to live for anymore…?

The Rise Of My Dark Knight Rises Anticipation Boner.

I’ve always wanted to title a blog post something as eloquent as that. Wonderful.

Anyway, a recut of the trailers from the three films in Christopher Nolan’s Batman trilogy, but with Michael Caine‘s voice over from The Prestige trailer laid over…

…And it’s fitting. And wonderful. And exciting. In preparation for this movie I’m attempting to strongly cultivate a healthy environment for my excitement and anticipation to grow, while not being ensnared by expectations.

Also, this:

Your mind is the scene of the crime.

Your eyes may be open but that doesn’t necessarily mean you’re awake.

All that glitters isn’t necessarily gold, not all travelers are lost, and that stuff underneath your feet isn’t necessarily Earth. When the sky’s the limit (and possibly not even then), when you can do and create anything, you’re still grounded by your own rules. Your own sense of understanding of ideas and concepts. Theft and violation are painfully easy, but inspiration is hard. Just because you feel it doesn’t mean it’s there. Things can only appear strange to you sometimes when you’re told that perhaps that’s what you should be looking for. Sometimes it’s hard to fall, or to feel like you’re falling, when there is no gravity.

This is my simple, rudimentary thoughts on Christopher Nolan’s Inception in three and a half points.

1. Every time I go to see a good movie in a movie theater, one that both excites and intrigues and involves me in some regard, be it superficial or something deeper, more substantial, it’s like a dream, isn’t it? We love the idea of dreams because they’re the perfect metaphor for… anything. Anything you desire.

And more so, we love our stories, and we love comparing movies to dreams.

Film logic just has to captivate you for the time that you’re watching it, to keep you floating in a suspension of (dis)belief, and then the movie ends, the credits roll, and you crawl out of the cave of the cinema. If you’re going to see the matinee, then the sun outside is harsh, and cruel. Your senses are heightened to extraordinary degrees. Every step feels more epic, the angle of objects seems more profound. You just experienced something amazing and you’re taking a little bit of it with you, and by contrast, you feel like you’re leaving a little of yourself behind, but you move on from it because you feel touched, activated, feeling pretty amazing yourself. You move with your own soundtrack blaring, your mind working overtime and recovering from the shock of excitement.

Waking up from an intense, weighty dream can inspire you and invigorate you, especially if for even just half a second, you think you’re waking and walking into another dream, even more stupendous, and of your own design.

2. Comparing things to video games infuriates me. But mostly it’s the people doing the comparing that bother me because, honestly, the idea of comparing things, especially movies, and certain modes of reality, to the idea of a “video game” interests me. I’m by no means a gamer, but the idea, and it’s possibilities, excites me.

Video games are like dreams in a certain regard, aren’t they? At times you’re completely powerful, in control of everything in your surroundings and yourself, and then, with little to no warning, you’re absolutely powerless and everything is completely out of control. The shit hits the fan, then the fan explodes, and somebody gets their head cut off.

Inception feels like a video game. It’s a cerebral maze of ideas, working on a multiple of levels, dabbling exquisitely in both terms of narrative, time structures, visual metaphors, and big ideas and memes (and sorry, everybody, I know the word is beyond detested, but the concept of it, the virus of the idea that spreads and can’t be killed is both thrilling and terrifying).

The other day Benjie Light and I were talking about things that we want to do in our lives, stupid things that we want to imitate from the movies/books/pop culture stories that we’ve ingested and loved over the years, and my big three things were 1) solve a mystery, preferably a locked room murder mystery, 2) plan and execute a (hopefully successful) heist, and 3) diffuse a bomb with mere seconds left on the clock. Commander Light also understandably suggested “car chase” as a scenario that would be nice to throw in the mix, and he’s right, but I’d toss that into the heist paradigm.

My point: I would love to play the video game based on Inception. The one that has a story that works brilliantly and ambitiously and only gets strange when a stranger suggests to you that something seems strange. And then you explore the depths of that strangeness. You have fist fights in rolling hallways, watch cities rise up to meet you, get attacked by angry mobs and the spectre of your Oscar-winning French hottie wife, fire guns, blow shit up, both run and chase after faceless nefarious goons, and deliver mind blowing bits of exposition while looking incredibly GQ.

Also, I’ll say this: Inception had a certain frame of mind to it that I feel like The Matrix could’ve really benefited from having had ten years ago.

It’s a video game that would excite you on a variety of levels, both on the superficial and the deeper, the more intellectual. A cerebral workout. An existential knife fight. The only thing that would make it better than the movie, though, would be that it was presumably interactive.

2 1/2. The thing I’ve noticed about Nolan’s films is that they’re all plot. They’re far from indulgent and long and dense and they move fast, leaving very little time for fireworks that are purely character building. In that sense, he’s the exact opposite of P.T. Anderson, who’s films are all character, and sometimes those characters move in a certain direction that takes them from a starting point to a stopping point. But in the exercises of narrative, Nolan manages to paint shades of characters, both skeletal sketches, like Cillian Murphy’s character in Inception, and those with the driving illusion of more depth, like Dicaprio’s in this film.

And grounded. So grounded. Nolan’s films are fantastical creatures of oneiric energy that are dreamed up by inhabitants of the real world. As scholarly influenced as they are, even their madness, and his, is grounded, and logical. His Gotham City and battle gear clad vigilantes are both out of this world and something that could play on the 5 o’cock news in this world.

Nolan doesn’t speak in a language of dragons and flying carpets and talking animals and liquid robots that morph in physics-defying feats of light and spectacle. His characters live in dreamlands based on urban mazes and high speed travel and real world concern and drabness. And they dream/create with the tools that their worlds give them.

Half of movies is glamor and glitz and show and all preconceived notions. And Nolan is good about using that, especially in his casting. Michael Caine can walk into just about any scene in a movie now and seem like the wise, but slightly jaded mentor who knows that you’re about to go down a pretty dark, fairly shitty path, but still supports your decision and has a few nuggets of sage wisdom for you. Joseph Gordon-Levitt has a certain level of cool attached to himself, either earned or not earned. Ellen Page perfectly fits into the category of smart newbie who’s still learning the ropes and is beginning a journey, despite her probably immense and amazing knowledge of all things Cisco. Ken Watanabe always carries a certain sinister edge with him, though perhaps that’s just an occidental thing. And Leonardo Dicaprio has perfectly aligned himself with a certain archetype, that of the little boy grown up into a man, hardened with anger and guilt, and we’ve accepted him as the protagonist cipher who will either work through his issues or ultimately be destroyed by them.

My only complaint about the actual production/composition of this film is the level of soundtrack on display at all times. I really liked Hans Zimmer’s score to the film, so much so that I went and bought the soundtrack immediately after the movie concluded, which was a surreal experience all of it’s own since I saw the film at the theater in the mall which was a weird labyrinth to wander through as I was re-composing myself into reality after exiting the movie. Maybe it was just a bad mix at that theater, but the score seemed to be too loud at certain points, competing with the actors and their dialogue, sometimes defeating them a little, which is a shame because as I said, with Nolan’s movies, nothing is wasted, not a single shot, not a single glance or expression, and especially not a single word or sentence.

I think it’s safe to say that this is the kind of movie that Counterforce has been waiting for all of it’s short life (2+ years now).

SPOILERS, from here.

Apropos of nothing, here’s an idea that you should carry with you into viewing this movie: “just as movies are metaphorical dreams, maybe dreams are metaphorical movies.” Well said. Inception can be just another popcorn action heist movie for you if you want (especially in 2010, the year we make contact with heist movies like The Losers, The A-Team, and Takers), or it can be something more. Or both.

Benjamin Light put forth a desire that I’ll repeat here: Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Ellen Page should do more movies together. They’re the brightest of the hip young things in the world of thespians with cred these days, yes?

That said, amazingly, James Franco was close to getting Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s role originally. And Nolan’s original desire was to cast Evan Rachel Wood in the role of the architect, and then it floated towards Emily Blunt, Rachel McAdams, and even Emma Roberts before Ellen Page was cast. That’s just fascinating. And so bizarre.

3. I haven’t repeated the plot of Inception here and I’m not going to. Go look it up. Then watch the movie. Then watch it again. Here’s a spoiler though: Inception ends just like Shutter Island, after a fashion.

There’s a college course or at least a long conversation for armchair cineaists and philosophers in movies like Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind, Mulholland Drive, and Synecdoche, New York, and Inception belongs in the mix with them. Movies are all dream logic, especially more so in the last few years. At a certain point, a 1/3 or 2/3 of the way through movies with a certain “out there” kind of story, we start to look for the seams and loose threads of the eventual reveal that “it was all a dream.” Especially in Synechdoche, New York. By the end of that film, you’re pretty sure that at some point you’ve crossed over into a dream world, but the question is simply: Where? At least Mulholland Drive is a little more straight forward about that, at least, for the filmgoer with is both actively looking for and completely open to massive weird download of logic and strange visuals and strong, penetrating emotions the film requires you to take in.

Shutter Island almost belongs in that same thread of films, and somewhat suffered because of it. Read any two reviews of that film and at least one will say some variation of “I could guess the ending of this movie long before the finish line and you know why? Because I’ve seen movies before.” So little shocks us these days, and we’re somewhat let down by twist endings now just because they’re expected. We set an extra place at the dinner table for them. Identity was a fine, harmless movie, but after about 25 minutes into it, you were pretty sure that a crime was being committed against you and the culprit was going to be a writer with a flashy, showing idea about tricking your expectations.

And once you start to look for those tricks, you feel like a trick that’s been turned. You open your eyes, you see the money on the dresser.

At least Inception is up front and honest about all of this, with it’s simple and confounding tagline: “Your mind is the scene of the crime.”

from here.

To mix metaphors even more: I think one of the many problems with the modern take on “twist endings” and “it was all a dream” logic in the cinema is that your goals as a viewer and participant get too confused. Are you looking for the map or are you looking for where the map leads you. X is supposed to mark the spot, but it’s tough to translate that when you’re X in that equation.

And, slowly but surely, twist endings are becoming the new “Hollywood ending.” Once upon a time and through the woods and only in a dream can you live happily ever after.

The thing that saves Inception and Shutter Island‘s endings is that they fall down to the user. You’re required to make a certain level of decisions, to feel something, and decide what you believed just happened. You have to be both actively involved, and also open and ready to receive, you have to “get it,” and in return, the film lets you pick a path to go down. It was all dream. Or it wasn’t. The main character remembers everything. Or doesn’t. Something happened here. Or maybe it was there. Maybe it was earlier. Or later. This is a review. It isn’t.

Actually, it isn’t. Just my immediate reactions, of a sort, having just walked out of the movie something like two hours ago (it’s roughly 5 PM as I write this). Such a strange experience watching the end credits rolling for that movie. Like I was walking out of a half remembered dream of sorts, standing on a widening chasm between a narrative flashing on the walls of my unconscious/subconscious mind and the harsh light of day in the real world. Which works dually for this movie as well: An artsy movie full of deep ideas, or at least ideas that can feel deep, but done in a slick, expensively executed mainstream way. As if Michael Mann had remade 8 1/2.

The theater I was in was virtually empty, the two other people there with me more invisible than usual, and it was so strange to feel that as I walked out of the shared dream that is the cinema that way. Dreamspace faded away, light entered the room, the real world was knocking on the door, and I felt more alone than usual. It was a scary but important feeling, my brain decided as it’s gears grinded and took delight in processing what it just took in, but even still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the movie was over and now it was time to go back to sleep.

The Queen Of All Sciences.

from here.

“The Internet” is “in the running” to win a Nobel Peace Prize. There’s a billion jokes there, I’m sure. But when it comes time to accept the award, for the sake of our Republican friends in the audience, I hope that it’s Al Gore who does it.

Norway Doomsday seed vault hits 1/2 million mark.

New Zealand woman sells two souls to the highest bidder.

Speaking of those Swedish bastards, Obama gave away the $1.4 million that came with his Nobel prize.

Blacklisted words from crossword compiler, from Harper’s, and from here.

by Norman Saunders, from here.

Jihad Jane!

Acrobatic thieves hit New Jersey Best Buy avoiding cameras, motion sensors, and alarms in a daring heist.

The world’s richest man: “Shady Mexican dude named Slim.”

Does the Devil need to be excorcised from the Vatican?

An interview with The Exploding Girl‘s Zoe Kazan.

by Jesse Lenz, from here and here.

“Art is the Queen of all sciences communicating knowledge to all the generations of the world.”

-Leonardo Da Vinci

French bread spiked with LSD in CIA experiment. Nice.

Australian archaeologists uncover 40,000 year old site.

First real trailer for David (The Wire) Simon’s upcoming show, Treme.

Christopher Nolan on Inception, Batman 3, and his Superman plans.

And, from the publisher of Pride And Prejudice And Zombies, comes…

Night Of The Living Trekkies.

No joke.

The undead at a Star Trek convetion.

Zombie Star Trek pictures from here.

Marion Cotillard’s Forehead Tittaes.

Breast milk, but not breast feeding.

Lesbian teen sues to force school to hold prom.

Orange dwarf star set to smash into the solar system.

Two technologies that are about to completely change electricity.

by James Jean, from here.

“All art is autobiographical; the pearl is the oyster’s autobiography.”

-Federico Fellini, from The Atlantic, December of 1965.

by Boris Vallejo.

The Auteur Theory: Univeral languages.

“Film is one of the three universal languages, the other two: mathematics and music.”

-Frank Capra.

In the past, August Bravo and I have talked about a few of our favorite films and how we’d like to see them become Criterion DVDs. Why the Criterion Collection, you ask? Because we’re low brow film snobs and the Criterion Collection just looks sexy on a DVD shelf. I don’t want to speak for August here, but I’m a film nerd and kind of a completionist in that regard. Electronic copies of things are great, but just like my very sexy bookshelf, I like having an awesome selection of DVDs of album chilling there for me to admire and really take the time to decide: What do I want to watch today?

Which also ties wonderfully into me celebrating my own awesomeness, which is something I’m finding it harder and harder to say no to these days, ha ha!

That said, at some point August and I will probably do another one or two posts on those movies we like in a classic sort of way and at some point, we may actually jump into the auteur theory for which we took as the name of our series. But until then… chomp down on some of our past posts on the matter…

“The fact that it doesn’t have a completely satisfying ending, or maybe it does, is something I thoroughly admire about this film. I enjoy thinking about a film days after I’ve watched it, or at least, I like movies that stick with you for days after you’ve watched them. Not many have that kind of staying power anymore, but this film stays with you for years.”

-August on Shadow Of A Doubt, directed by Alfred Hitchcock.

“I hate to use the word satire more than once (and I do use it again in this post) but this movie is a perfect example of satire done right, perfecting showing you a world very much like ours, and very much like ours will become. In fact, the only detriment to this entering the Criterion collection to me is that it still feels a little too fresh. Maybe in another ten years it’d be more than perfect.”

-myself on Sidney Lumet’s still frighteningly brilliant Network.

“After many flings with a great many women he’s still left confused. The ending is one of the best I’ve ever seen. With almost no structure, the film is probably meant to confuse the shit out of everyone, an initial reaction that Fellini probably not only expected but counted on. As probably one of the most imaginative directors there was, I’m sure he had many reasons to make this the way he did. And I wouldn’t change a thing.”

-August on Federico Fellini’s 8 1/2., which is getting the musical remake treatment as Nine, directed sadly by Rob Marshall and starring interestingly Daniel Day Lewis. That aside, clearly August’s metier is endings.

“Polanski is a master filmmaker, and he’s particularly good with one single element of life: That sense that something is off and just not quite right. Sometimes it’s paranoia, and suspicion of one’s surroundings, but that’s if you’re lucky to nail the feelings his films inhabit so perfectly down into words, if you’re able to describe that real life sense of nameless dread that feels like a hand reaching for your neck while you’re wide awake in the dark.”

-myself on Roman Polanski’s Chinatown.

“Among other untimely events, the film takes you back exactly to the beginning. It seems this is something I find fascinating in movies, or I guess you could say that I just hate resolution in film? Not everything needs to be a happy or unhappy ending. But an ending, just a regular, ordinary ending is what I feel should propel this movie to that ultimate and pivotal infamy of the Criterion collection.”

-August on Steven Spielberg’s Munich.

So there’s something for you to catch up on while you eagerly await our return to blowing up the internet with film nerdery.

Public enemies, The Lady in Red, and The Man Who Could Walk Through Walls.

I was browsing through last week’s issue of Entertainment Weakly, er, I mean, Weekly, which was the summer movie preview, and I was reading the bit of Michael Mann’s new movie about John Dillinger and Melvin Purvis, starring Johnny Depp, Christian Bale, and my favorite French hottie, Marion Cotillard.

The little one page piece on the film, called Public Enemies, is interesting depth-less write up on the upcoming film, talking about it’s timeliness in dealing with a folk hero who robbed from the fat cat banks that had turned enemy of the people, but it was much this paragraph caught my eye:

Johnny Depp had also been flirting with the idea of playing the legendary thief for a while. Depp, who grandfather ran moonshine on the back roads of Kentucky during Prohibition, grew up idolizin outlaws like Dillinger: “Some people might disagree, but I thin he was a real-life Robin Hood,” says Depp of the bank robber, who at least managed the rob-from-the-rich part of Robin Hood’s credo. “He knew that the clock was ticking, and boy, if righ now wasn’t the time to have a good time, then  don’t know when it is!” Needless to say, when Mann approached Depp to play Dillinger, the actor didn’t need to be held at gunpoint.

I wish John Dillinger had been more as Johnny Depp describes him, or as he probably plays him. It’d be nice to think that either of those were the case rather than the truth, that Dillinger was just a sociopath and a murderer. But maybe seeing it that way is a fnord?

Hell, I’d be happy to think of Dillinger as he appeared in The Illuminatus! Trilogy, a bank robber who walked through walls and was practically ageless (and quite possibly the guise of an ancient shaman, but that’s a whole other kinda thing, isn’t it?) and really just wants to help “the good guys” immanentize the eschaton. And to kick some Masonic ass, but that’s only natural.

from here.

I guess I’m curious to see how they’ll handle the “betrayal” at the hands of the lady in red or if there truly is a case of mistaken identity in the Biograph theater and Dillinger gets away in the end, as he may possibly have done in real life (after death?).

Or maybe not.

The Auteur Theory, part six: The only way to get rid of my fears.

“The only way to get rid of my fears is to make films about them.”

-Alfred Hitchcock.

And here we continue with part six of our films that we love, and perhaps even adore, that we feel should make the jump over to the Criterion Collection, if, for no other reason, just to make ourselves a little happier. But today I think we’ll venture out into international waters of fear and unease, but first…

Marco Sparks: Based on reading this, I’m tempted to make The Fountain, directed by Darren Aronofsky, my next choice, but… I won’t. I may be the only person who actually liked this movie, even though I did feel it was hurt by Aronofsky having to downgrade his vision for it do to crisis after crisis (though not quite to a Lost In La Mancha level, but still). Even still, I feel that it falls into the category of several films of more recent release, like Lost In Translation, that could very well find themselves heading into Criterion status after a little bit of aging.

Oh… well. August, what’s your pick for today?

August Bravo: Munich, 2005, directed by Steven Spielberg and based on the Munich massacre.

Seeing the trailer alone got me pretty pumped up to see this. I remember actually going to the theater and watching it, where I was quite surprised to find Benjamin Light sitting. Well, I guess it wasn’t that big of a coincidence since that was one of the only showings in town.

Eric Bana plays Avner, an old bodyguard of the prime minister of Israel, sent out on a mission to find and assassinate the men responible for the murders of the Israeli athletes at the 1972 Munich olympics. Seeking not just retribution, Bana and his team are sent out to get an eye for an eye. Eleven names, eleven assassinations, all tied to Black September, or so they think. This is an unusual movie, but a very good one.

It seems the only good movies these days are either based on books or real life events. It’s such a rich topic to tackle, especially for someone like Steven Spielberg. Oh, did I mention that he directed it? Yes, Steven Spielberg is to blame for this awfully terrific movie, which is probably why this was nominated for 5 Oscars, including Best Picture. I was sad to see that Eric Bana didn’t get a nomination for Best Actor, but he had some stiff competition: Heath Ledger for Brokeback Mountain, Joaquin Phoenix (my absolutely favorite new rapper) for Walk The Line, and the eventual winner, Phillip Seymour Hoffman for Capote. I was even sadder to see that this film didn’t win a single Oscar, but this isn’t the first time Spielberg’s been atrociously robbed by this ceremony.

Now, after having given you a brief overview of the movie, here’s why I think it should be a Criterion classic: Because why not? Well, for one, it’s a Steven Spielberg movie. When is the last time he got some respect? Err, wait. Because Daniel Craig’s in it? He’s sooo dreamy. Wait. That’s not it either. Okay, because this movie has no rules. With a decently notable cast, other than the ones I’ve named, you’ve got Geoffrey Rush, Mathieu Kassovitz (from Amelie), and Mathieu Amalric, who plays Louis, the provider of names. And I can’t get over how great his role is, or how great he is in the role. Louis despises Avner because his father longs for a son more like him and the sides he does not take makes him so interesting, yet Amalric plays him such a subtle amount of venom.

Marco: I have to interject here just to add that you’re right, Amalric is really good in this role, and his presence is incredibly understated. He’s an actor (who was compared to Roman Polanski so many times in reviews of Quantum Of Solace) that you always think is going to take it over the top, but he never does. He always keeps it perfectly on the line, with those big bug eyes of his betraying so much of what’s inside him. And don’t forget to mention the equally wonderful and low key Michael Lonsdale, who’s wonderful as Louis’ papa in this film.

August: Avner’s inner struggle, wondering if what he’s doing is right, is something to pay close attention to. The cover to the two disc edition of the DVD and the original movie poster explains it well enough. The Israeli crew’s progression throughout the film is something I’ve enjoyed as well. Their circumstances can’t help but force them to grow weary of each other. Among other untimely events, the film takes you back exactly to the beginning. It seems this is something I find fascinating in movies, or, I guess you could say that I just hate resolution in films. Not everything needs to be a happy or unhappy ending. But an ending, just a regular, ordinary ending is what I feel should propel this movie to that ultimate and pivotal infamy of the Criterion collection.

Marco: Good point, that. We’ve never really discussed in depth what our personal criteria or what we see as the criterion for the Criteron collection is. Partly because it’s hard to nail down, but… there’s a certain off beatness of fine filmmaking that I feel is one aspect of it. An overlooked quality, perhaps. A somewhat political film like this definitely makes sense, possibly after a few years of aging like fine wine, just like Costa-Gavras’ Missing. But I don’t feel that the Criterion collection should be home to just plain classics. Casablanca probably shouldn’t carry the Criterion logo on it, but The Third Man certainly should.

Eric Bana as Nero, the villain in the new Star Trek movie. I dig the name.

Now, for my pick today, I’m actually going to throw out a few. And since I have the tendency to ramble on, I’ll just throw them out and walk away, most likely to talk about them another day. They are:

The Tenant, 1976, directed by Roman Polanski (and starring him as well).

Suspiria, 1977, directed by Dario Argento.

Deep Red, 1975, also directed by Dario Argento (I told you that I’d be suggesting a giallo classic or two, didn’t I?).

Roman Polanski and Sharon Tate before.

These are three excellent films of psychological horror and, well, just plain horror as well. And a clear indicator that the 70s were a great time for paranoia. The Tenant works on so many terrifying levels, further proving that Polanski was quite possibly a genius filmmaker at one time, and nobody handles the unnerving unsettling terror that lives beneath your skin like him (it’s sad to say, but the closest I’ve ever seen to true perfect sinister feelings in a film since Polanski was probably Gore Verbinski’s remake of The Ring), especially here as he deals with a little bit of diaspora unease and a lot of the existentialist hell that is living in an urban environment like an apartment complex, surrounded by people that may want to destroy you.

Marco Sparks’ favorite French hottie, Marion Cotillard reenacting the shower scene from Psycho.

As for these Argento movies… they just get inside you and grab a part of you and squeeze. And they’re beautifully lit and shot. And sooner or later, Suspiria will get remade (though I think Deep Red needs it first), possibly with Natalie Portman in the lead. Argento (whose daughter, Asia, was the subject of every cinephile’s dirty fits of lust at some point or another), has been more miss than hit in the last few decades, but for a while there he and De Palma were neck in neck for producing that certain brand of psuedo-Hitcock horror-thriller, though Argento was much more interested in the more supernatural and gory parts of life (which, thankfully, lead to his funding Romero’s Dawn Of The Dead).

August and I will continue for a little more talk about the films we love and respect and think that you should as well, but for now, we’re wondering what scares you so bad in a film that you can’t bear to watch it?

And what scares you so badly that you can’t bear to look away?