Decades of Cinema - 10 Best of 2010 - Present

Previous decades lists are: 1920's, 1930's,1940's, 1950's, 1960's, 1970's, 1980's, 1990's and 2000's.

Here are my ten favorite films released between 2010 and today.

10. Inside Llewyn Davis 

The Coen brothers have been making amazing films for over 30 years, and their most recent example of this was the underappreciated 2013 gem Inside Llewyn Davis. Yet another movie by them that balances the laugh out loud comedy with a shocking amount of nuance, leaving bits and pieces to dig up with each revisit. 

9. Inception

The movie that single-handedly brought me back out to the cinema again after a multi-year hiatus following the birth of my daughter. One look at the trailer for Inception and I knew it would demand a giant screen, and boy did it. An incredible achievement from Christopher Nolan that is just as fascinating no matter how many times you see it unfold. 

8. Life of Pi

I don't have religion in my life, but every so often I feel like I find God in a film. Life of Pi is one of those experiences (with another one at the top of this list). This is a profoundly beautiful picture.

7. Cloud Atlas

Incredibly epic yet at times painfully intimate. Ambitious almost to a fault, but I forgive it. Cloud Atlas is a superb adaptation of a book that seemed impossible to translate coherently to film, yet it was done. I was blown away the first time I saw this film, and with each subsequent viewing my admiration grows.

6. Take Shelter

Director Jeff Nichols handles the subject of mental illness with grace and class and a stunning level of maturity considering it was only his second feature film. Michael Shannon wasn't even nominated for an Oscar for his lead performance, yet he not only should have been, he should have won the damn award. Take Shelter is brilliant and has one of the great endings in recent memory. 

5. Drive

I am a married heterosexual man, but I am not afraid to use the word sexy to describe Ryan Gosling in Drive. Seriously, Nicolas Winding Refn crafted a masterpiece here that is so damn, for lack of a better word, cool I can barely wrap my mind around it. From beginning to end I am intoxicated by the neon glow, the incredible score and the subtle but perfect performances. Drive is the type of movie that makes me wish I could create one of my own.

4. Boyhood

I never thought a film could capture the authenticity of life in such a way, but Boyhood is moving in its simplicity. It isn't a film about milestones, it is the story of those other days that mean so much but seem to slip through the cracks as time goes by. The underlying message is one that I found very powerful as I watch my own daughter grow up so fast: time is relentless.

3. Gravity

Sure, on the surface it's a film about a woman trying to survive a catastrophe in space, but what is really on display is so, so much more. Gravity is a heartbreaking but life affirming metaphor for grief and just how challenging to overcome it, and to say I was moved by the journey of Dr. Ryan Stone is an understatement.  

2. The Social Network

As a super fan of David Fincher, I don't say these words lightly: The Social Network is his masterpiece. The origin story of Facebook and its rise to internet domination doesn't sound appealing on paper, but it touches on familiar themes of loyalty and betrayal and it does so perfectly. The Oscar winning screenplay from Aaron Sorkin, the Oscar winning score from Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, and the unfortunately not but should have been Oscar winning direction from Fincher, all of it added together is essential cinema.

1. The Tree of Life

The Tree of Life is not only my favorite recently released film, it is my favorite of all time, period. It is profound poetry in motion, a movie that literally taught me to embrace and appreciate the miracle of existence. 

So that's it, the end of my Decades of Cinema lists. I would love to hear some feedback on my picks from all of the decades, find out which ones you love, which ones you loathe and everything in between.

The Tree of Life Review

Before I really allowed myself to absorb the film The Tree of Life, before I opened my mind up and gave in to the experience, I didn't believe in miracles. I never really considered the big picture of existence or how beautiful the world really is. 

The Tree of Life made me realize how incredible it is to be able to wake up each day and simply exist. I watched my wonderful daughter sleep one night, so peaceful and beautiful, and I realized if I made one decision differently, she wouldn't be a part of my life. She would never have a chance to paint a picture, tell a story, give me a hug or tell me she loved me. She would never have a chance to make friends, ride a bike, or watch a film without a perfect fateful moment back in 2005, when I made a last second decision to go to a friends house on Valentines Day and a girl walked in, a face I never had laid eyes on before and may have never seen again if not for that night.

We could have never met, we could have broken up, we could have not decided marriage was the right decision yet, or we could have decided to wait to have children. If we went down a different path during any one of these moments, she would not exist, but she does. She is the most important, incredible thing I have ever known, and generations of my family and my wife's family had to make exact, perfectly executed choices for her to be a part of my life today. 

It's a miracle. The Tree of Life taught me that they exist.

5/5

100 Favorite Films - #10 - #1

Finally, my ten (eleven) favorite films of all time.


10. The Silence of the Lambs (1991)

My Review of The Silence of the Lambs

Every single moment of the film The Silence of the Lambs feels important and memorable, as it has been a favorite of mine ever since the first time I laid eyes on it. The pacing is remarkable, as the picture flows so smoothly from one incredible sequence to the next, and you may have picked up by now throughout this list that I am a sucker for the ominous, the dark and the deranged. I can't help it, stories like this grab my interest and when they are executed well, they don't let go. For roughly twenty years now I have watched The Silence of the Lambs and my love has not diminished in the slightest.


9. The Social Network (2010)

David Fincher is one of my favorite filmmakers working today, quite possibly at the top of that list, and for me his masterpiece was the 2010 film The Social Network. I recall thinking the choice was odd, that the man who brought forth such dark and intense thrillers would helm a film about the creation of Facebook. After seeing the finished product, the choice was not only no longer odd, it proved to be inspired and rather genius. Unbelievably the man wasn't awarded the Best Director prize at the Oscars for that year, and the film also lost out on Best Picture, but something tells me years from now it will be remembered as quite the achievement despite these snubs.


8. *****TIE***** 

2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)

One of the most important and iconic works in cinematic history, 2001: A Space Odyssey was initially a very polarizing experience and despite the fact that now it is held in incredibly high regard by many, it is still a work that is hard to accept for some. An abstract, surreal journey through time. Stanley Kubrick absolutely blew my mind the first time I laid eyes on this majestic epic, but I must admit I wasn't even sure I enjoyed it then. I had no idea what to think. It wasn't until years later when I revisited that the power of this film washed over me.


Lawrence of Arabia (1962)

My Review of Lawrence of Arabia


It's weird, including a film that I just saw for the first time ever roughly a week ago on a list like this, especially THIS high up, but to be perfectly honest, given more time this may move up to top 5, hell even top 2 consideration. Lawrence of Arabia is just such a brilliant, perfect film, it is impossible to ignore. I have overreacted to new releases before, an experience I see in the theater and I quickly declare it a future classic, only to reevaluate later and realize the film was in fact great but perhaps not quite at the level it first seemed. This is not an overreaction. This is a worthy spot for a flawless work of art.


7. Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope (1977)

If I would have made this list when I was eleven years old, the Star Wars trilogy would have held the top three spots on this list without a doubt. I was raised on them, I watched them so many times I practically memorized the films word for word, and nothing was better than coming home from school and popping in one of my VHS tapes from the holy trilogy. While not in the top three, you can tell that the original trilogy still holds a special place in my heart as I have already listed Return of the Jedi and here we have A New Hope.

Interesting that The Empire Strikes Back has not yet been a part of the mix. Hmmm....


6. Pulp Fiction (1994)

Years ago I declared that the greatest screenplay that I had every encountered was the work of Quentin Tarantino on Pulp Fiction. As we approach 2015, that feeling has not changed. Every damn word of this wonderful film is dynamite, music to my ears, and even though I have seen the film countless times I feel like I must hear and see every last second to truly appreciate it each time I give it another spin. So clever, so funny, so memorable and so damn cool.


5. The Godfather (1972)

My Review of The Godfather


Masterpiece. While not literally at the top of my list, I could never argue with someone who wishes to declare The Godfather as the finest cinematic work ever. Simply sublime storytelling from start to finish.


4. The Passion of Joan of Arc (1928)

My Review of The Passion of Joan of Arc

Shame on me for ever thinking that silent films would be boring. If this is boring, than I wish I was bored right now. The Passion of Joan of Arc is without a doubt one of the most powerful, arresting experiences I have ever had, as it literally takes my breath away when I see it. It's the type of work that I am forced to remind myself to breath and continue functioning normally during it because I get so lost in the imagery and the score.

I have never been one to get too attached to a piece of art in a museum. I can respect its beauty and try to piece together its meaning, but I never find myself overwhelmed by what is front of me like others do. The Passion of Joan of Arc is like that for me, just turn it on and I cannot move, cannot look away until its over. A perfect film with a perfect lead performance.


3. Vertigo (1958)

I love a whole bunch of Hitchcock films, but for me, nothing can top Vertigo. Jimmy Stewart. The beautiful Kim Novak. The incredible direction and editing and photography that keeps me coming back for me time and time again with this film I have seen at least twenty times before. The perfect music by Bernard Herrmann, who crafted so many perfect scores throughout his life. I will never forget the first time I saw this, I was in high school in a film class and we could only screen half the film the first day because of time restrictions, and I refused to wait another 23 hours to finish the story, so I went to the library that evening, checked out a copy and watched the conclusion at home.

Didn't complain a bit when I watched it again the next day in class. In fact I may have watched the entire thing again once more before returning my copy. Such a stunning, incredible film.


2. Star Wars Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back (1980)

As I said above with my little bit about A New Hope, Star Wars was my thing growing up and nothing was better than the middle chapter, The Empire Strikes Back. It wasn't until recently, after lord knows how many viewings, that I actually truly admired it for the perfect cinema it is rather than just blindly adored it due to nostalgia. Despite so many viewings before, I was shocked to realize that the film is roughly only two hours in length. How the hell could so much awesomeness, so many iconic moments be packed into two hours...yet not once feel packed or crammed or rushed? The answer is absolutely astonishing pacing, a fluidity that rivals anything else I have ever seen. I wouldn't trim a second off and I also wouldn't add a second anywhere. The Empire Strikes Back is perfection.


1. The Tree of Life (2011)

My Favorite Film of All Time

The Tree of Life by Terrence Malick is more than a movie. It changed my perspective on life. It made me appreciate my own existence more than I ever have before. Ironically, it is a film that I truly hated the first time I saw it, but to be fair I didn't really see it. Sure, it was playing in front of me and my eyes were looking at it, but I wasn't allowing the abstract narrative to soak in at all. I wasn't opening myself up to the experience.

Once I did, I couldn't wipe the tears from my eyes fast enough.

Now, each time I watch this film, as soon as its over I immediately have the urge to go check on my daughter. I look in at her sleeping and I don't want to look away. Having her in my life is a miracle, which is something I didn't appreciate enough until I saw this absolute masterwork, the single greatest film I have ever seen.

Well, that's it. My 100 (101) favorite films of all time. Any thoughts on this portion of the list? The list as a whole?

Thank you so much for checking out my selections and giving feedback. Good or bad, it means the world to me that you took the time to look at all.

Genius Directors - Terrence Malick

In 2011, the first time I saw The Tree of Life by Terrence Malick, if you would have asked me what word I would use to describe the man as a filmmaker I doubt "genius" would have come to mind. Surprisingly it was only the second Malick work I had seen at that point, the other being a single viewing of The Thin Red Line a decade earlier, and nothing about The Tree of Life worked for me on any level. Well, maybe I shouldn't say nothing, I recognized that the cinematography by Emmanuel Lubezki was stunning, which is impossible to ignore no matter how much someone hates the film, but on a narrative level I was left cold and feeling empty. Nothing about the film made sense and I'm not sure I even tried to make sense of it, I literally swore at my television and turned it off before it was over.

It was nearly a year later when a friend of mine, who notably also loathed The Tree of Life the first time he saw it, told me to give it another chance. His revisit had been an awakening to the depth and meaning of the seemingly ponderous narrative and amazing imagery, and I decided to keep an open mind and try it again. That is when the curse words that came after the name Terrence Malick transitioned to genius instead.

Let's go back and start from the beginning, as I can get back to the gushing praise of what is now my favorite film later on. In 1973 at the age of 30, Terrence Malick made his feature length directorial debut with the film Badlands which tells the story of a fifteen year old girl named Holly (Sissy Spacek) and the love she shares with a man in his twenties named Kit (Martin Sheen), a character that certainly shares some recognizable characteristics with the great James Dean. When Holly's father attempts to keep the two apart, tragedy strikes and Kit and Holly go on the run from the law across the South Dakota badlands.

At roughly only 90 minutes, Badlands is the perfect way to introduce yourself to the work of Terrence Malick if you haven't already done so. The film follows a far more traditional method of storytelling than his more recent work, although you quickly learn that Malick's love of the voice over narration started from the very beginning and continues to this day. Badlands is wonderfully made and a pretty brilliant debut from a young filmmaker, and had it been my introduction to Malick I would have understood that the sky was the limit for his career going forward.

Five years later in 1978, his second feature titled Days of Heaven was released and the similarities to his debut were obvious. Much like with Badlands, somehow the imagery in a Malick film doesn't have to necessarily appear aesthetically pleasing at first glance to end up being utterly gorgeous in the frame as the film sweeps you away. The bleak colors of a farm in Panhandle, Texas perfectly suit the texture and vibe of the entire experience, proving that even drab and lifeless can appear vivid in the right context.

The story of the film revolves around a couple named Bill (Richard Gere) and Abby (Brooke Adams) who are working intense labor jobs in Chicago and they decide to go south in search of a better life. After gaining employment on a farm in Texas, the wealthy owner of the farm (Sam Shepard) falls in love with Abby and thus invites them to stick around even after the harvest has ended and their seasonal employment period has completed. After discovering that the farmer is ill, Bill and Abby pretend to be brother and sister rather than lovers and Bill convinces her to accept the wedding proposal of the farmer in hopes of inheriting his wealth after he is gone.

Days of Heaven is another masterful effort by Terrence Malick that follows similar beats as Badlands and runs at roughly the exact same length. I would assume if you introduced yourself to his work through Badlands and loved the experience, no disappointment would come from this film, as he yet again takes simple characters located at a rural location and makes the story feeling oddly epic despite its rather minimalist nature. The strange power of Days of Heaven is that the film invokes a sort of nostalgic feeling inside me despite having no real connection the story on display. I have never lived such a life, I have never known such people, yet it all feels familiar, like he is filming something one may have witnessed in a past life.

After Days of Heaven things got real interesting for those following the career of Terrence Malick because, ironically, of the silence that followed. For 20 years, Malick would release no films and not be heard from, and rumors of why ranged from his death to the idea that he was living in Paris working as a hairdresser. The man had become a filmmaking legend by doing nothing, because his only two works had become so highly regarded and yet he seemed destined to never add to his filmography. Until, of course, The Thin Red Line was released in 1998.

The Thin Red Line is an adaptation of the James Jones autobiographical novel from 1962, telling the story of the battle at Guadalcanal during the second World War, and to put it lightly it is an astonishing cinematic achievement. It was now after the 20 year hiatus that we start to see Malick's transition from using standard, easy to follow storytelling devices to more abstract work, as the depth and philosophical nature of the film is oozing with subtext to dive into rather than just a battle heavy, mayhem filled look at the horrific nature of war. This was my introduction to Malick back in the late 90's, and I don't recall how I really felt about it then, but I can safely tell you that I didn't truly appreciate it and determine it was worthy of the word masterpiece until I revisited after falling in love with The Tree of Life.

Oh, did I mention The Tree of Life again? Well I will address it once more, but briefly. It is the greatest film I have ever seen. It makes me feel like a small part of a huge world, which might sound like a bad thing but it really isn't. It is a film that helped me gain perspective on what it means to exist, on the beauty of being a husband and a father and having the chance to drive home every day and see those I love waiting for me on the other side of the door. The Tree of Life may be "just a movie" to many, and I am sure plenty of people hate it and I don't blame them. Hell, I did initially. For me though, it is a recognition that life itself is a miracle and I refuse to take it for granted.

The most recent Malick release came in 2013 in the form of To the Wonder, and it is yet another piece of abstract art that feels very similar to The Tree of Life although less grandiose and lacking that importance that can shake my core. I appreciated so much of the beauty of To the Wonder, which focuses on life, love and the nature of human relationships, but I didn't really feel a connection to it by the time it ended, which was disappointing considering the intense feelings I had garnered for the rest of his work by the time I got a chance to see this one.

Now at the age of 71, Terrence Malick is busier than ever before with multiple projects in the works, and I can't wait to see all of them. I am sure they will be divisive and abstract and bizarre, and that is why I appreciate the man so much. At a time when most cinematic experiences play it very safe and simplistic, Malick doesn't make films that will be universally loved and I doubt he is in search of such praise. What he crafts are films that are memorable, that promote discussion and debate, and will stick somewhere in your mind long after the screening is done, even if you hated it.

We need more minds like the one fueling Terrence Malick, although something tells me such a thing is rare, which is what makes him that much more special.

My ranking of the films of Terrence Malick:

1. The Tree of Life
2. The Thin Red Line
3. Badlands
4. Days of Heaven
5. To the Wonder

Not listed is The New World, the only film by Malick I have still not seen.

Interstellar Review

My adoration for Christopher Nolan as a filmmaker does not manifest blindly, despite what many people may assume as all I see around the internet is the term "fanboy" thrown out any time a rave Nolan review pops up. My eyes are open while I experience his films and if the time shall come in which his work truly disappoints, I will feel it and accept it. It just hasn't happened yet, and Interstellar certainly isn't the one to let me down. In fact, after my revisit yesterday, this time in front of a majestic IMAX screen, I am confident that this is not only the most ambitious work of his career, it is also his best.

Christopher Nolan does not make flawless films, let's make that clear. I do not believe he is a one man masterpiece machine or that he walks on water, but I love his filmography and the power it has over me because the man is a grand, ambitious entertainer. He is a man of big ideas and big execution, and any flaws that may pop up during films like Interstellar or Inception are easily forgivable because I admire the desire to dream big and present a grand vision at the expense of perceived perfection.

I realized long ago that I am a man who embraces the all important second viewing of a film, because for whatever reason my brain seems to process more of the details once I already know what is coming, once I am allowed to just sit back and lose myself in the ride rather than try to guess what happens next. I had minor issues with aspects of Interstellar initially after one watch, as I found parts of the film to feel rushed despite its nearly three hour running time, wishing we could have had an additional 15 or so minutes on Earth with Coop's family to really let the power of the relationships resonate. I didn't seem to notice this as being an issue this time around, and perhaps it was because I had already taken this journey once before, but I was emotionally invested quickly and the tears of Murph knowing her father may never return home broke my heart.

My other key issue with the film was the tonal shift of their time on the second planet they land on, the Hoth-like beast of a world that feels more like a nightmare than salvation the second we lay eyes on it. I found the direction the film takes while on that planet to be jarring after one viewing, and perhaps it was because I didn't see it coming and I didn't expect it, because now I felt that sequence flowed just as beautifully as the rest of the work, and I understand the significance of what occurred there thematically more than before. The editing that is showcased here, as we follow both the drive of Coop to save himself and humanity and also the similar passion of his daughter back on earth as she cannot give up the fight to rescue both her loved ones and the world, is completely enthralling and beautifully handled. These two worlds are vastly different but the circumstances on them are familiar, both feeling desolate and potentially hopeless, and despite being millions of miles apart from each other, a father and his daughter simply will not give up.

If you read my previous review of Interstellar, you may be surprised to see me mention any flaws at all considering how head over heels in love I was with the film then. I had these minor reservations but I still never questioned how I felt about the complete journey Christopher Nolan took me on in the cinema that night. My love for film cannot be broken down simply with X's and O's like a play design in football, it is a far richer and deeper experience than just pointing to a flaw and deducting points off my final grade of the movie. If you were to look at the trend of my favorite films over the past three years, The Tree of Life in 2011, Cloud Atlas in 2012 and then Gravity in 2013, you will find that I connected with these works on such a deep, profound level that whether or not a performance was a little off or the script could have been tweaked and so on, these issues cannot diminish what I feel internally as I let the experience wash over me.

To me, cinema and art in general is all about a personal connection. You can break down every minute of a film and analyze it to death, and sometimes I am guilty of doing this myself, but for the most part I know whether or not a film worked because I can feel it in my soul. As I sit here and reflect on my second Interstellar trip, I would not be able to find a single moment that left me troubled or baffled or simply feeling off. Does that mean it is a perfect film? Hardly. For me though, for what I am looking for when I take my seat inside that theater, for what whets my appetite when appreciating the medium that has stole my heart, Interstellar is a grand, sweeping work that feels like a dream I might have that I would hope to let play out before I must wake. The incredible imagery of a ship attempting to dock in the depths of space combined with an eerie score by Hans Zimmer that seemed to always match exactly what was needed in that moment, that for me is science fiction. I have always craved exploration, a curiosity resides inside me that wants to know what can be found in every nook and cranny of not only our world, but our universe and beyond, and while no film could ever completely satisfy my desires, at the very least Christopher Nolan certainly tried. His vision lifted me out of my seat and brought me to places far beyond my field of vision, and for that I thank him.

Interstellar is a film about love, and the central relationship is the bond of a father and his daughter. As I absorbed the movie into every pore, I remember thinking that I would do anything and everything, I would travel anywhere and face any danger if it meant saving the little girl that I brought into this world. Try and tell me why I shouldn't love this film, go ahead, your case might be incredibly valid and well reasoned, but in the end it will not work. When cinema speaks to me, I listen. Interstellar has spoken.


5/5

Cloud Atlas Review

In the world of film criticism, the word perfect is tossed around a lot, but honestly, what defines a perfect film? How can one truly gauge something like perfection?

To be clear, I am just as guilty of invoking the word as anyone else, mostly to illustrate that an aspect or an entire work felt perfect to me personally. Even then though, how can I be so sure? The Tree of Life is a cinematic experience that is so sublime, so richly rewarding for my soul that I could never actually find a flaw, but does that mean one doesn't exist? Isn't it always possible something technically could be improved upon, even if we aren't able to spot the imperfection no matter how close we look?

Cloud Atlas isn't a perfect film, not even for me on a personal level. I find the flaws to be minor, but they expose themselves nonetheless. Six stories that take place at vastly different times are weaved together to form a cohesive narrative, and some of these characters and their personal journeys are more interesting and impressive than others, yet as a whole work this is a film that resides inside my top 30 of all time and climbs slowly higher and higher with each revisit. I tend to believe the reason I formed this deep, important connection to Cloud Atlas boils down to a matter of personal preference more than anything else.

Some may admire a more minimalist feature that expertly knows its limitations and embraces them, and that is totally fine and understandable. For me though, if you really want to get my film loving juices flowing, sit me down in front of a work that is willing to make a few mistakes in pursuit of grand, massive ambitions. The scope of Cloud Atlas is on a level I have never witnessed before in cinema, a film that aspires for true greatness and for some I am sure it falls short. Not me though. I passionately connected to not only the concept and thematic messages of the film, but also the fact that it soars to seemingly unreachable heights on a technical level.

When I read the novel of the same name that this film is adapted from, I understood why it was considered by many to be a work that simply could not be translated to the screen. I found the novel by author David Mitchell to be a literary masterpiece, a challenging read that will reward the persistence of those who are willing to commit to its innovative format in the end, but I sensed that an attempt by the Wachowskis and Tom Tykwer would end up being a rather unfortunate failure. I was wrong, so very very wrong, and I discovered this in an IMAX theater on opening weekend when the fastest cinematic three hours of my life floored me and left me wanting to go back and do it again and again.

This being my fourth viewing overall of the film, I still can't wrap my mind around what an achievement the editing of Cloud Atlas is. The novel separated the six different stories which allowed me to mentally focus on only the one in front of me, only the words I was currently reading, and then I would put the book down to take a minute and piece together the thematic and literal connections that linked one story to the next. The reason it felt nearly impossible for the source material to be coherently adapted was essentially, how do you present such material to those that are not familiar with the stories in advance? If you keep the format the same and focus on one set of characters at a time, you risk losing the audience during the segments that are deemed less compelling, but to attempt to weave through the past, the present and the future all at once seemed destined to befuddle an audience that entered the cinema with no prior knowledge, unprepared for what awaits them. I am in awe of how seamlessly the film is pieced together, as I find from beginning to end it takes on an almost lyrical flow that overwhelms me with joy.

If someone were to ask me for a definition of pacing that I find ideal, I would turn to Cloud Atlas and point to the intimidating running time on paper and challenge them to actually feel any sluggish moments, any fat they would trim due to boredom. I have seen films that are literally half the length of this that bore me to tears, forcing me to check the clock on the wall and beg for the hands to move a bit faster. When I watch Cloud Atlas, clocks don't exist. Time is rendered meaningless. All that matters is what is in front of me, a work that defines epic, a work that even at its silliest lows, it is still utterly fascinating.

Cloud Atlas certainly isn't perfect, but I'm not sure any film really is. Considering its ambitions and the fact that practically every single second of this wonder had me glued to the screen, I don't search for nor need perfection. I am thankful of anything bold, exciting, and unique that will resonate in my mind and heart for the rest of my life, and without a doubt this is a work that has cemented its spot forever.



5/5