| DGT ranks THE 12 BEST FILMS OF 1990-1999!; 2K posts in this goddamn shithole | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Dec 4 2011, 02:59 PM (2,302 Views) | |
| <span style=Snoopy | Dec 6 2011, 07:01 PM Post #101 |
ORG GOD
  ![]](http://z5.ifrm.com/static/1/pip_r.png)
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Winona Ryder will never get a better role than Abigail Williams. |
| [img]http://i.imgur.com/l26it.gif[img] [img]http://i.imgur.com/l26it.gif[img] [img]http://i.imgur.com/l26it.gif[img] | |
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| <span style=Mister Plum | Dec 6 2011, 08:04 PM Post #102 |
SurviBoy
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No. 11 only??? WOW then I'm curious on what's your top 10. 
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| <span style=irJong | Dec 6 2011, 08:35 PM Post #103 |
Loves To ORG
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1998? That settles it: If it's not Saving Private Ryan, I will flip all the shits. |
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Stats: Tournament Fighters - Scorpion (1/25) Dissidia Anna Paquin is a gap-toothed bitch. ORG - Sephiroth (8/20) Fighters Trilogy - Scorpion (14/24) | |
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| <span style=Mister Plum | Dec 6 2011, 08:36 PM Post #104 |
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SurviBoy
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It'll be Life is Beautiful 
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| <span style=CO | Dec 6 2011, 09:16 PM Post #105 |
A stunning physical specimen
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1998 = Saving Private Ryan |
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| <span style=midnight problay | Dec 6 2011, 09:51 PM Post #106 |
Disgruntled Vet
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If it IS Saving Private Ryan I will flip all the shits. |
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| <span style=recyclehumans | Dec 6 2011, 09:54 PM Post #107 |
BOOM! CROASTED.
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I'm very happy to know that, no matter what I do, at least someone here will feel like flipping at least most of the shits.  I'm rewatching #10 tonight and depending how much my ADHD does or does not affect the fingers, it could even get posted before the sun rises. 
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| <span style=Cassidy666 | Dec 6 2011, 10:45 PM Post #108 |
ORG Legend
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I hadn't noticed it actually.  That wasn't the only time that particular Dali picture was used or referenced in a movie poster. 
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ILBBS ROCKS!! Stranded in Aruba: http://www.immunityidol.net/forums/viewforum.php?f=23 Stranded All Stars: http://stranded.immunityidol.net | |
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| <span style=Cassidy666 | Dec 6 2011, 10:49 PM Post #109 |
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ORG Legend
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I thank Silence for the Lambs for one of the best clips ever as well. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iPnQ77a1UVk |
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ILBBS ROCKS!! Stranded in Aruba: http://www.immunityidol.net/forums/viewforum.php?f=23 Stranded All Stars: http://stranded.immunityidol.net | |
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| <span style=crazyalexi | Dec 6 2011, 10:55 PM Post #110 |
Token Brit
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Thats much better than the British Descent poster. Much coverage that one got was because it was on the 7/7 bus  
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Top 5 Placings Stranded: Madagascar- Cristina The Pursuit of Happiness- Thomas Paine Glee- Emma Big Brother Fighters- Cameron Diaz Survivor: Isla Redonda- J.P | |
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| <span style=twiggy | Dec 6 2011, 11:03 PM Post #111 |
just wants to be perfect
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I totally thought about the same thing, Cassidy |
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| <span style=Fabiownage | Dec 6 2011, 11:19 PM Post #112 |
Russell Hantz
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Gremlins fucking Two eternal love. The Unrequested/Unwarranted Top 12 'Fabiownage' Ranking of Films from the 1990s Without Any Explanation: #12. The Green Mile #11. Schindler's List #10. The Silence of the Lambs #09. Reservoir Dogs #08. Boyz in the Hood #07. American History X #06 Ed Wood #05. Malcolm X #04. Fargo #03. Pulp Fiction #02. The Shawshank Redemption #01. Goodfellas - Undisputed number one with a bullet. Notable Omissions: Kids, Forrest Gump, The Lion King, Toy Story, Leaving Las Vegas, Quiz Show, Good Will Hunting, Terminator 2: Judgement Day, Philadelphia, Se7ven, Clerks, The Full Monty |
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Now Anna Paquin is a gap-toothed bitch. winner of two games, runner up of five, and host of Anna Paquin is a gap-toothed bitch. greatest series of all time.  
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| <span style=GnarlsOakley | Dec 6 2011, 11:22 PM Post #113 |
WWLVD?
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the fully monty is not really noteworthy |
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| <span style=Mister Plum | Dec 7 2011, 12:15 AM Post #114 |
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SurviBoy
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There are only few things I like about Fargo, thick snows and Frances Mcdormand's accent and all the OH YEAHHH??? :wacko: |
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| <span style=Cassidy666 | Dec 7 2011, 01:27 AM Post #115 |
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ORG Legend
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What about Mike Yanagita? |
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ILBBS ROCKS!! Stranded in Aruba: http://www.immunityidol.net/forums/viewforum.php?f=23 Stranded All Stars: http://stranded.immunityidol.net | |
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| <span style=Mister Plum | Dec 7 2011, 02:18 AM Post #116 |
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SurviBoy
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He's also one of the sources of Mcdormand's Oh yeahhhhs |
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| <span style=recyclehumans | Dec 7 2011, 04:51 PM Post #117 |
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BOOM! CROASTED.
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Let's see who will be flipping some shits. #10. LAST NIGHT  (1998) written and directed by Don McKellar starring Don McKellar, Sandra Oh, Callum Keith Rennie and Sarah Polley Any shit flipping? Apocalypse was, to put it mildly, a hot topic of 1990s cinema, especially in its last few years. With the advent of technology in filmmaking, producing bigger, louder, punchier stories about the end of the world and our attempts to stop it became Hollywood's modus operandi. Leave it to a Canadian filmmaker to beat them all, and doing so with the quietest apocalypse movie you may ever see. Something that I couldn't give less than a shit about in "save the world" films is how to stop the world from ending. Everything is always about the plot-driven need to stop the asteroid, prevent the flooding, build the ships, do this, do that. Survival is perfunctorily and mechanically delivered as a narrative priority. Even DEEP IMPACT, which, bless its heart, tries to a small degree to confront the unquestionability and inevitability of death in the form of a world-ending event that oh holy shit can't be stopped, has its ultimate narrative focus be on stopping the threat. LAST NIGHT? Not one second of the film is spent worrying about how to survive, how to stop the threat, how to endure. Because it's not going to be stopped. We don't know exactly why the world is ending in a matter of hours -- at midnight, in fact -- but one thing is remarkably clear. Not only has the world known about its fate, it's known for quite a while. The world is ending, and the world is at peace with it. If you can't stop the end of the world, then… what are you going to do? That is when you can start to make an interesting film. Another movie that I adore with all my heart, SUNSHINE, utilizes this very same idea to great effect. In SUNSHINE, our characters are on a mission to the sun, attempting to give it a thermonuclear boost, as it were. The sun is "dying", and the Earth is slowly freezing, so without our characters succeeding, everyone dies. Okay, whatever. What makes SUNSHINE interesting is what happens as soon as events unfold that end up crippling the characters and their ship, forcing them to realize with stark immediacy a grave truth: they won't return home. They no longer have even remotely close to the amount of oxygen they need to get back to Earth. In fact, there isn't even enough oxygen to keep the crew alive to their payload delivery point in the sun's orbit. That is, there isn't enough oxygen for the number of crew members on board (translation: kill some crew, get some air). There is no hope of survival for our characters, the only people we ever meet or get to know in SUNSHINE. They are going to die. And it's what they do knowing that and accepting that that you get the chance to see some unexpected exploration of character and morality unfold. But in comparison, we only get a small taste of that kind of unique, refreshing characterization that is the hallmark of LAST NIGHT. Look at the Kübler-Ross stages of grief and how they relate to cinema. Disaster/apocalypse/armageddon movies are all about the first 3 stages. There's a little denial, a shit-ton of anger and a shit-ton of bargaining. The last stage? Acceptance? Nowhere to ever be found. You can't even point to DEEP IMPACT's smattering of moments where characters watch the megatsunami bearing down on them and choose to not run as proof to the contrary. Those characters were still on the run, still trying to drive, to sprint, to do something, until they just decided not to anymore. That's different in the context of this comparison. The world, on a whole, does not accept. The human race does not accept. The human race fights. The human race only knows one thing, how to endure and survive. That is the only feeling ever present in disaster filmmaking. Except for LAST NIGHT. LAST NIGHT begins approximately 6 hours before the end of the world. It's a deadline the world has been aware of for quite a while. It's never explained, and the only clue we get as an audience is that the later it gets in the night, the brighter the sun seems to get. Whatever is going to happen, however it's going to happen, it's going to happen. And the human race has accepted its fate. Spiritual beliefs and such aside, Earth is about to become uninhabitable, and there is no contesting it. So… wait. This is a disaster movie. And the disaster is going to win. …What now? That's the question that drives LAST NIGHT into territory previously unexplored in film. LAST NIGHT is an elegy. A simple, elegant, fascinating, exploratory elegy.  Kinda hard to avoid where the buses don't run… Patrick Wheeler already feels dead. He's a widower, his wife having died after a lengthy illness. Misery has been his companion since, and in his own way, he doesn't mind the end of the world. He plans on spending it on his building's roof, champagne in his hand and music playing over some speakers, mementos of his wife around him. In fact, going to his parents' house for one final family dinner is an event he feels he's dragging his feet to. It makes him all the more uncomfortable when he sees that his mother has prepared for this family dinner by treating the occasion like Christmas, complete with tree, decorations, childhood mementos in the guise of gifts, and even stockings. It's the only way she can get a personal grip on the inevitable end. It's how she's able to reminisce, to reflect, to remember a life that's been very fully- and well-lived. Patrick can barely play along before the nihilism kicks in. And the heartbreak on his mother's face says it all. Even with acceptance, there's melancholy. How can there not be? "Can't you play along for her, just this once?" his father admonishes. He understands, but his last hours are still his. And he wants to spend them his way. However calm Patrick is as the clock ticks, Sandra is panicked. She and her husband Duncan have plans for the night, including a delicate dinner and a suicide pact set for the second before midnight strikes. And they're now derailed. While getting a few last-minute supplies in an empty grocery store, random young hoodlums feel like fucking with her car. They upturn it before she comes back out. Even with hours left in the world, some people remain consistent. She's now stranded on the opposite end of Toronto, no real way to get back home, and anyone she tries to call for help doesn't answer. All anyone gets is an answering machine with a farewell message, some lengthy and some very basic. "I love each and every one of you. Leave a message." Duncan has no idea, of course, and he never will, as he's diligently at work as the manager of the local gas company, dutifully calling customers -- as in, each and every customer -- to wish them and their families well in this final hour, and to give them assurance that the gas will continue running "right up to the end". A truly plain and decent man, fully selfless and fully undeserving of a rather gruesome fate as the final minutes pass at the hands of last second vandals. If the world is about to end and someone pisses you off, why hold back, right? Who's going to arrest you if you blow someone away? Patrick's friend Craig is approaching the end just a tad differently. He's obsessed, in the final hours, to check off the fulfillment of as many fantasies as he's ever imagined. With a schedule that seems to be clockworked on the hour, a new fantasy knocks on his door, responding to whatever advertisements he's put out to the city. Must have been fun writing up that personal ad on the internet. A black woman, an elderly woman (who also happens to be a former teacher -- ooh, two-for-one deal), a virgin, and so on and so on. Chinese, blind, outdoors, anal, threesome, you name it. At one point, in their final goodbye, even awkwardly making a pass at Patrick. Craig wants his last moment in life to pass by knowing he indulged in his fantasies. Imagine how completely assured they must be knowing that unprotected sex is the safest sex around. Craig wants no regrets. Surrounding them in Toronto in this last day is a complete cross-section of how humanity is choosing to deal with and embrace (or lash out at) the fate of the planet. Massive celebratory blowouts? Check. Wandering the streets aimlessly? Check. Venting a lifetime's worth of anger and frustration by vandalizing and destroying? Check. People of faith congregating for final prayer? Check. A batshit psychopath choosing to run her own personal marathon and calling out the hours left for everyone to life? Check. A schlub who has always dreamed of playing piano at a concert hall and takes this last moment to organize a sparsely-attended performance, his very first and very last? Check. People choosing to do their own thing, live life as consistently as they always have, maintaining a personal, individual sense of dignity as life grinds to a halt? Check. Life goes on. Until it doesn't.  Dirt from the floor? Not like the dry cleaner'll give a shit. Conversation isn't so irregular in this film. At least, not at first. Conversations, aside from a few obvious references to the fate of the world, seem fairly commonplace. What makes this all the more fascinating to watch is how thick the atmosphere of their fate truly is. How every word said by everyone, to everyone, is said and heard knowing that it's one word closer to the last they'll ever experience. Have you ever spoken to a terminal cancer patient? Someone who knew almost precisely the time limit they had? Was talking to that person difficult? Or was it easier? Was it some bizarre mixture of both? How about honesty -- was being straightforward and honest easier in conversation? Why hide and be dishonest, what's the point, right? Imagine that kind of interaction on a global scale. One no one is immune to. Imagine what kind of simple, uncomplicated conversation would result. That is LAST NIGHT, from start to finish. And as the hours continue to wind down, whatever meager veneer persists between people breaks down more and more. Words become more precious. Every look and gesture more final. And yet, words don't feel like they're full of gravity. Final interactions aren't drawn out and labored, like teary farewells and emotional breakdowns. It's hard to explain how… understood everything is, even in each and every person's unique approach to the end. An interaction that sticks with me very much is the final one between Patrick and Craig, longtime friends parting ways for the last time. Craig never forgets his ultimate goal and tries a final time to convince Patrick to sleep with him. Patrick refuses -- sex is the last thing on his mind today, man or woman -- but Craig is still able to very awkwardly get a kiss out of Patrick, which provides a chuckle. And Patrick leaves, a few bro-style exchanges between them. That's it. But the words are what's captivating in their unforced simplicity: Patrick: "I love you." Craig: "And I love you, pal." Patrick: "K." Craig: "Mercy fuck your skinny ass? What was I thinking?" Patrick: "In your dreams, pal." Craig: "Get the fuck on home." Patrick: "Oh, I forgot to mention, I saw Menzies [the pianist] just around the corner. I'm sure he'd be game." Craig: "Oh really? Fuck off." Patrick: "Okay, I will. See ya." Craig: "No you won't." (pause) Patrick: "Good luck. Fag." And Patrick bolts while Craig keeps a middle finger and a smirk flashed to him the whole way. That's it. Lifelong friends in their final moment ever together. For just an instant, it's easy to forget that as they talk. Even Patrick forgets for a second when he says "See ya". The nonchalant "No you won't" from Craig is just so… so… it's hard to describe. It must be heard, their body languages witnessed. It's such a monumentally interesting moment, and one delivered with zero pretense of dramatic weight. They're just being. No other verb. Just being. Sandra, looking desperately for a way to get home to Duncan so her final moments in life can go as planned, happens across Patrick as he returns from his parents' home. She looks to him for help, at first to use his phone and then to help her steal a car she can use. He doesn't want her there. He wants solitude. He wants only the memories of his wife to be with him at the end. But he's not inhuman. He lets her use his phone. And their interactions, while initially terse, grow in revelation. No earth-shattering topics, just what I mentioned before. The terminal patient conversation on a global scale taking place between two people. She sees in him someone who is embracing being alone when every fiber of his being wants that to be not the case. But the only person he wants to be there to fill that void can't be there. He's trapping himself. But she has her own end of the world to get to. He sees in her someone who wants only to be at the end with someone. Someone she loves. To not be alone. However she has to make that happen, it's what she wants. It's why she married Duncan in the first place -- a marriage born out of the end of the world. To Patrick, that's compromising. It's settling. It's not real. It's something he can't bring himself to do. To her, it's nothing of the sort. And even if it was, what's wrong with it? What's wrong with wanting a final moment on earth to be spent next to someone you've found love for, however that love is made? He sees her point, but fights it utterly within himself. And besides, he has his own end of the world to get to. But throughout the film, the efforts to get Sandra home fail. Even when Patrick is able to convince Craig to give up his car for Sandra, she's met with a massive, impassable roadblock, full of pedestrians in the middle of a massive blowout. And the first thing they start to do is bitch her out for trying to force her way through with the car and start to attack it. There's less than an hour left in the world, and she has nowhere to go. No one she loves to get to in this last hour. No one she knows. Except Patrick.  With less than an hour left, she goes back to Patrick. It's more than just needing to spend that time with someone she finds love for, though. It's also about the suicide pact. She is adamant in not wanting the world to claim her life. To just "pass away". She needs Patrick to be the one to pull the trigger on her. Needless to say, it's not Patrick's happiest idea of how to conclude his time. Patrick and Sandra didn't know each other until a few hours before the world is to end. And yet here they are, each being the last person the other will ever see, speak to, know, connect with. And with 15 minutes to go, they have what, to me, is one of the most delicately quiet and perfect scenes I've ever watched play out between two actors. Simply spoken, both through tears, his coming out like fighting through an emotional blockade as he speaks what may be for the first time to his life. I can't even comment on it appropriately. I just need to quote it here, verbatim. And you need to watch it to see the nuance in their performances, especially Sandra Oh's. Sandra: "Barbecues. Open fires. Foreign food. And traveling. I like to travel. I've been to every continent except South America." Patrick: "So, how was Antarctica?" Sandra: "And Antarctica. But even there, I wish I'd seen it, too. Ice cream. I guess it's pretty obvious." Patrick: "No no, it counts." Sandra: "I could use some right now. Strawberry ice cream, straight out of the package." Patrick: "Sorry. Can't help you." Sandra: "So do you feel like you know me?" Patrick: "Better than anyone." Sandra: "How about you?" Patrick: "Me? Uh… okay. Well… I was born here in Toronto and lived here all my life. In North York, actually. And my father was a stockbroker--" Sandra: "Okay, you better hurry up. Tell me something to make me love you." Patrick: "Oh. Uh… okay. Um…" Sandra: "Tell me your big tragedy." Patrick: "What tragedy?" Sandra: "About the girl you loved, ran away or died." Patrick: "…She died." Sandra: "…It's pretty obvious. Well… people die all over. You have to put it into perspective." Patrick: "It's… it's hard for me to explain. You'd have to meet my family. Well… she taught me how… I… could love. How much. It's a lot, actually. Surprising. Never believe it, someone like me. But… it's embarrassing, actually. It's embarrassing for me to tell you this. …To tell her. But… she… she died. And then they said the world would end." Sandra: "I'm sorry." Patrick: "She was sick. Remember when people got sick? And died one at a time?" Sandra: "It's not your fault." Patrick: "That she died." Sandra: "That the world is ending." Patrick: "Yeah, that too. I know. I'm not that arrogant." Sandra: "Tell me more. I want to love you. It won't be hard." It wrecks me. And the scene isn't even aiming to wreck me. It's aiming to be real. And it's precisely why it wrecks me. As the final countdown begins, Patrick plays "Guantanamera" over his speakers, and Sandra and Patrick take their seats outside on his roof. A gun in each of their hands. Each gun aimed at the other's temple.  A badly-timed sneeze could make this mighty awkward… "Not until the last second," she says. Around them, everyone we've met embraces the last seconds. The elderly teacher listening to the recital. Patrick's parents and aunts praying peacefully together. Craig getting closer and closer to his final two goals being met -- sex with a virgin and mutual orgasm. His sister watching from the massive street blowout, counting down so loudly that the voices echo throughout Toronto. The batshit runner exclaiming with glee, "IT'S OVER!!!" to an empty street. And Patrick and Sandra. Their eyes only on each other as they hear the voices count down to midnight. Every second passing tightens their hold on the guns. And it also weakens their resolve. They can see it in each other's eyes. Pulling the trigger is no longer the concern. It's no longer the need. Patrick leans in, as does Sandra. And they kiss. At the last second, Patrick lets go. He opens himself. He lets himself feel. At the last second, Sandra lets go. The last moment is what she's wanted since the start. She gives herself to the kiss. This last instant of a connection. Of a companionship. Of love, however brief and finite it may be. Whether at this instant she realizes it or not, she never needed the gun to go out on her terms. To end life without simply "passing away". And remarkably enough, Patrick's managed the same. And for that one moment -- the last moment -- life is okay. The screen flares to white. The world is over. So why THIS movie? LAST NIGHT existentially approaches relationships in a way nothing else ever has that I've seen. And even more astoundingly, it does so with little fanfare and a complete disinterest in having flairs for the dramatic. In the face of what every other form of media has ever taught us an extinction level event would be like, LAST NIGHT remains calm. It takes a step back, a breath, a peaceful moment and says, "We're going to die. Now what?" "Now what?" Have you ever asked yourself what you would do if you knew you were going to die, and you knew exactly when it was going to happen? Of course you have. We're human. Our sense of mortality is pervasive in our lives, and how it governs us is almost dictatorial. But we imagine what we might do if it's just us facing our final hours. The conversations we'll have. The goals we'll accomplish. The sights we'll see. Hell, even the people we'll avoid or tell off. The things we'll break. The mark we want to leave on this world when we're gone. So that we're remembered, somehow, in some way. To not be forgotten, a blip in existence forever gone. Well… too bad. That's going to happen. You will be forgotten. The world is ending. And everyone with it. There will be no memory. No mark left on life. The last hours are ours. They're humanity's. And when those hours are over, nothing will carry it on. Huh. Okay then. That's kind of a new approach to the question, isn't it? LAST NIGHT explores this unique concept, and it does so with intelligence and grace, eschewing the very obvious and tempting ways to dramatically grandstand and preach from a pulpit (or a soapbox, if you're less God-inclined). It's not about grand revelation. It's just about being. Can you let yourself just be? |
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| <span style=crazyalexi | Dec 7 2011, 05:25 PM Post #118 |
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Token Brit
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I have never heard of that film but the write up did put a lump in my throat
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Top 5 Placings Stranded: Madagascar- Cristina The Pursuit of Happiness- Thomas Paine Glee- Emma Big Brother Fighters- Cameron Diaz Survivor: Isla Redonda- J.P | |
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| <span style=Josseppe95 | Dec 7 2011, 05:26 PM Post #119 |
[00:18] goohst Jones: ninja is a sex pervert
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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EXaHy814cEA |
| ChloeEnvy1 (11:55:08 PM): showing you gts will forever be my biggest mistake of our past friendship | |
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| <span style=GnarlsOakley | Dec 7 2011, 06:28 PM Post #120 |
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WWLVD?
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That is a great choice. It kind of reminded me of the Twilight Zone episode The Midnight Sun but it touches on the human condition more then the show. |
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11:40 AM Jul 13