quarta-feira, 27 de janeiro de 2016

I can’t handle it


 
And what if I never
feel the touch of your sweet embrace
How would I ever go on
(Without you there's no place to go)




P.S - Well someday love is gonna lead you back to me

Cine Me

 
 
Joy
 
 
 
 
 
Here’s a story that Hollywood has been waiting for: the rags-to-riches saga of Joy Mangano, the entrepreneur and inventor who gave the world… (fanfare of 80s-style synthesiser trumpets) the self-wringing Miracle Mop. Whether the best director to tell that story is the erratic David O Russell is another matter. His last film, retro-styled crime caper American Hustle, was so exuberantly cynical that you can’t quite believe he’s playing with a straight deck in telling the tale of a hard-working woman realising her destiny on the QVC shopping channel.
 
Executed with much the same quasi-Scorsese whiz-bang as Hustle, though the material rarely seems to call for it, Joy works most convincingly as a vehicle for the no-nonsense warrior-woman persona of Jennifer Lawrence, who comes across personably if a touch coldly. Joy revisits the dysfunctional family milieu of Russell’s Silver Linings Playbook, the parallels underlined by the casting: Bradley Cooper is a TV exec, Robert De Niro returns as a cantankerous patriarch. But visually, and narratively, the film feels cluttered – too many people hover with too little to do, notably Virginia Madsen as Joy’s TV-addicted mother.
 
In telling the story of the woman who invented the Miracle Mop, director-writer David O. Russell, who co-wrote the story with Annie Mumolo, gets off to a wobbly start, builds to a wonderfully satirical middle and ends with a whimper. So, should you see Joy? I'd give it a shot. The invigorating talent of the man behind The FighterSilver Linings Playbook and American Hustle still shines, even in this uneven muddle.
And did I mention that Jennifer Lawrence is the star? The 25-year-old supernova again proves she can do anything, moving from comic to tragic without missing a beat.



 'Jennifer Lawrence's brilliant fairy tale'
 
 
 
 
 

Cine Me

 
 
In the Heart of the Sea
 
 
 
 
 
A recounting of a New England whaling ship's sinking by a giant whale in 1820, an experience that later inspired the great novel Moby-Dick.
 
 
 
What is "In the Heart of the Sea" about? There are so many ways to answer that question. You could say that Ron Howard's latest feature, adapted from Nathaniel Philbrick's acclaimed nonfiction book "In the Heart of the Sea: The Tragedy of the Whaleship Essex," is about the real incident that partly inspired Herman Mellville's novel "Moby-Dick"—the 1820 destruction of a whaling vessel by a murderously angry sperm whale. You could say that it's about the relationship between nonfiction and fiction, though here things get dicey: the film's story is told in a characteristically clunky framing device to the young Melville (Ben Whishaw), even though in reality Melville wrote his novel without ever visiting Nantucket. (Howard told Charlie Rose that Melville interviewed the last survivor of the wreck, though, so there may be a tether of fact here.) You could say the film is about humankind's collective, slowly dawning realization that whales are not big fish but intelligent mammals, and that the whaling industry was (and still is) engaged in interspecies genocide—a notion teased out in shots of the vengeful whale and other members of its pod floating peacefully with their calves underwater, then surfacing to stare accusingly at the humans. You could say it's a survival story, about a group of shipwreck survivors (led by an unqualified rich-boy captain, played by Benjamin Walker, and Chris Hemsworth's macho and resentful first mate) dying of hunger and thirst in lifeboats. Lastly, you could describe "The Heart of the Sea" as a story of corporate ethics: the final section shows the whaling company urging survivors to lie about what happened, for fear that insurance carriers won't cover them if they hear that a whale is capable of destroying a huge ship.
 

Cine Me

 
 
 
The Danish Girl
 
 
 
 
Tom Hooper’s beautiful, humane and moving biopic of the transgender artist Lili Elbe, who worked during the early part of the 20th century and was one of the first people to undergo sex reassignment surgery, may not be the most obvious next step for the director of The King’s Speech and Les Misérables. Those are elegant, gilded, crowd-pleasing films of a type often called "easy watches" – and on the surface, there’s nothing easy about Lili’s plight.
 
Long before Hooper arrived on the scene, this film was to be directed by one of two Swedish filmmakers, Tomas Alfredson and Lasse Hallström, either of whom might have made the kind of wincing, austere, fingernail-picking drama the film’s subject matter suggests. (Nicole Kidman was also attached to play Lili.) But Hooper’s involvement makes it a far more daring proposition – because he has no interest in making a daring film. His clear-eyed, tasteful storytelling makes Lili’s struggle as easy to grasp as if she were a loveable prince played by Colin Firth. That doesn’t just make The Danish Girl watchable. It makes it revolutionary.

But there’s depth to be had if you’re looking for it, and tellingly unfaithful reflections – of people, landscapes, intentions – are everywhere. Even out in the Scandinavian wilds, where the film begins, a wind-whipped lake twists trees into new and beautiful shapes – while in Copenhagen and Paris, Einar catches muddy glimpses of himself in foxed-glass mirrors and smudged windows.
 
The film’s secret weapon is Vikander, who’s been blessed with a role that has no truck whatsoever with the usual supportive wife banalities – at points she’s effectively its lead character. The Swedish actress glides into the film after a ludicrously busy 2015, in which she bounced between lead roles in Ex Machina and Testament of Youth, did fine supporting work in The Man From UNCLE, and even made a dignified cameo in the otherwise dignity-phobic chef drama Burnt. But here she’s better than ever – hungry, energised, up on the balls of her feet, and an equally convincing awards prospect. (Like Redmayne, she’s already been nominated for a Golden Globe, with surely more nominations to follow.)
 
 

quarta-feira, 6 de janeiro de 2016

Sir Tom Jones

 
 
has sold over 100 million records and just released his autobiography and a new album, Long Lost Suitcase. At 75, he sounds better than ever .

Moonless

 
 
Não mais amarei
aquele que se não demora...

nas voltas dos meus fios de luar.
 
LÍLIA TAVARES