Tarr talks jury duty at this year’s Marrakech film festival, his film.factory, Donald Trump, and more.
Cinema Guild’s sterling transfer of Ben Rivers’s brilliant feature debut may not ease your fear of the end of days, but it will get you closer to nature.
The list of “obstructions” ought to be familiar to anyone with any exposure to this parlor game.
It’s the warping, re-signifying logic of affect and memory that architected this list, which turns out to be nothing short of this cinephile’s symptom.
A couple of New Yorkers (yeah, Jewish guys) have been hearing about a particular restaurant for years, the best place for lunch in town, bar none.
The 8-year-old boy, Matthew, is clutching his mother’s sleeve tight and holding her hand. He looks very pale.
It sees Béla Tarr’s notoriously slow-roving camera-eye taking in the murder-and-money intrigue of a dark, unspecified port city.
Anyone who has passed the endurance test of Sátántangó may feel like his previous film Damnation will be less taxing, less hectoring.