i'm not a film student so forgive me for my pedestrian knowledge of film terminology. i'm just an enthusiast. maybe one day i'll upload my entire letterboxd diary but that would drive me nuts. also i wont log every movie i watch on here, this page is for films that i have enough thoughts on to write about.
The Cranes are Flying, Mikhail Kalatozov (1957)(i highly recommend that you watch the movie before reading this since it's free on youtube)
I grew up with Soviet cinema. One of my first favorite films as a kid was Leonid Gaidai's The Diamond Arm despite not understanding a word of it and barely understanding the plot. Returning to Soviet cinema with more knowledge of Soviet history has been such a treat. Larisa Shepitko's The Ascent is a new favorite of mine (one that I'll probably write about in the future) and within such little time I've already found another all-time favorite. The Cranes are Flying was a very overwhelming experience to say the least. Samoilova (as Veronika) and Batalov (as Boris) have such incredible chemistry with one another. Their relationship is so sweet, so innocent, that even when they're running around town or playing tug of war with a blackout curtain I still felt compelled to cry. I think a lot of my favorite films tend towards this pattern where their happy moments are just as affecting and overwhelming to me as their sad moments. What elevates this higher than most other war films is this moment at the end, where Veronika waits for Boris at the train station with a bouquet of flowers for him only to learn from Stepan that Boris is unquestionably dead. She cries into her bouquet of flowers in a crowd of people who are all reuniting with their loved ones. An older man then says to her, "Well? Why do you stand there? Give your flowers to whomever they're for!" So she goes around the crowd, handing out her flowers to everyone. Ending the film on this note, that grief doesn't condemn you to a life of isolation, that you still have love in your heart to share with others--it's just so sweet and life affirming that I can't not cry. It's been almost a week since I watched this film and I still get all choked up and teary eyed thinking about this ending. I'm crying right now! I can only imagine what it must have been like to be a widow, a parent, or a child of someone sent to the Eastern front, seeing this film in the theater. This is the story of so many people who were young and in love at such an inopportune time, who spent years waiting for letters, waiting for the day that their lives could return to normal, only for that day to never come. Veronika handing out her flowers to everyone is an affirmation that life goes on regardless, and that there's still love and connection to be found in the future, that there will always be something new to look forward to.
Nowhere, Gregg Araki (1997) (spoilers)
I was really worried for the first 20 minutes that I'd find Nowhere insufferable and that I'd get tired of the dialogue but it really won me over.Weirdly reminiscent of Mrs. Dalloway in that it all takes place in one day and culminates in a big extravagant party, with a B plot in which a
character is traumatized and becomes isolated from their peers by a man who cynically presents himself as some kind of savior. In Mrs. Dalloway,
this "savior" is an actual psychiatrist, while in Nowhere, the televangelist's ravings can be beamed straight into your ears and eyeballs without
even having to be in the same physical space as you. Other people are also subjected to this at the very same time as you, isolated within their own rooms. Sir William's "proportion" no longer has to be imposed upon people via forced isolation, as isolation is simply the default state of being with the advent of television. Toooootally not relevant today hahhahahahahahahah. I feel like so many films have tried to be Nowhere ever since it came out but have fallen short in trying to capture the same weirdness without being annoying as fuck. This tows the line, probably because it's not afraid to be gross and uncomfortable to watch at some points (anything to do with nipple piercings is like visual nails on a chalkboard to me. No disrespect to people with nipple piercings you guys are cool I'm just fiercely protective of my extremely sensitive nipples). It gives the film a real edge to counterbalance the kookiness. The lighting and set design are incredible. I love the idea of my bedroom being an external representation of my internal world, and Araki has a similar idea with the bedrooms in this film. Egg is a sweet girly girl whose innocence and autonomy is taken from her by a man she and her friends really admired. Her room is lined with flowers and flooded with purple lighting. When her suicide is revealed, the room is lit more in a more drab, realistic way to really show the blood on the walls. Bart suffers from a heroin addiction that strains his relationship with his boyfriend. Typed on the walls of his room is what seems to be a stream of consciousness response to his boyfriend's concerns, or at least a transcript of what must be running through his head as he contemplates suicide: "...your shit means nothing to me want to stop the crying [...] how can i live when you see what i've done..." Also love that like 50% of the characters are bisexual and that Dark being the more submissive one in his relationship with Mel isn't played entirely for laughs. #MoreSubmissiveMenInCinema2026 #StopTheMaledomSlopEpidemic #MoreMaleMasochistsTooPlease 6.2.26
Badlands, Terrence Malick (1973) (spoilers)
I watched this on a quiet, muggy evening with the window open. Maybe
I'm just pulling this out of my ass, but I feel like this must have
inspired Luca Guadagnino at least a little bit when he was making Bones and All.
Both follow an outlaw couple as they wander through bumfuck nowhere, with scenic
shots of a pastel-colored Great Plains sprinkled between acts of murder. But Bones and All
is far more concerned with its couple's bond, how they find comfort and safety in each other
through their outsider status as cannibals, while Badlands seems more like a sardonic criticism
of how we treat violence when the perpetrator is handsome and smooth. It's hilarious how when
the cops finally catch Kit, this cold-blooded murderer they've been tracking down for all this time,
they tell him that he looks just like James Dean. They giggle along at his jokes, treat him like he's just
a mischevious teenager as they keep him harnessed and leashed like a dog. And admittedly Martin Sheen is
pretty cool in this film... spinning his revolver on his finger, doing trickshots out the window of
a Cadillac and then fixing his hair in the rearview mirror, sauntering around in his form-fitting jeans... Sorry.
This is sort of a tangent about the Letterboxd userbase rather than the film itself, but I found it so odd
that so many people's takeaway from the film was that Holly and Kit were "made for each other." Holly is
a 15 year old... Kit murdered her dad... She's oddly chill about it, but she was pretty much coerced into upending
her whole life for this idiot 25 year old... She doesn't even do any murdering herself! She's an accomplice at most!
I just think the idea of them being "made for each other" kinda goes against the whole thesis of the film. By the end
of the movie, she's fed up with Kit's aimlessness. Not being able to go to school and having to sustain yourself on weeds
in the middle of nowhere for weeks while you're hiding from the police is not actually that romantic. Running away with
your hot trigger-happy boyfriend gets kind of fucking boring and lame after a while. Lol. 5.27.26
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