The first wave of guilds—directors, producers, and actors—all supplicated down on their knees for The King’s Speech.
Part of the reason I’m drunk on Black Sawn while still struggling to identify its taste has something to do with the film’s hallucination-filled narrative.
Is Darren Aronofsky’s relative nebulousness a reflection of the quality of his films?
Some of the entries are set in stone from edition to edition, and that’s fine in most cases.
The Fountain is a gusher of poetic imagery, extravagant yet controlled.