Word: kubrick
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...blast a hole in the enemy wire. And one by one they die. It is a gruesome portrait of war, more horrible than the intellectualized horror of Apocalypse Now and more realistic than The Deer Hunter's chamber-spinning metaphor for horror. It more closely resembles Stanley Kubrick's evocation of the butchering sen-selessness of trench warfare in his anti-war film, Paths of Glory...
...from the killer's point of view and we seem to be enjoying it, and to be dissociating ourselves from what it means. Responsible film artists have been warning us for years: Hitchcock told us, over and over, that we were voyeurs and sadists; Kubrick in Clockwork Orange, Malick in Badlands, Coppola in Apocalypse Now made epics of our dissociation; soldiers in Vietnam said it didn't feel like being there, it felt like being in a war movie; and Roger Rosenblatt writes in The New Republic that Son of Sam seems like just another psycho-on-the-loose movie...
...four-night NBC extravaganza, and last year he previewed several versions of Apocalypse Now before deciding which one he wanted-for now. Lucas rereleased American Graffiti with additional footage. Still, Coppola and Lucas are hardly the only directors to have joined the emerging slice-and-splice school: Stanley Kubrick cut 19 minutes from 2001: A Space Odyssey a week after its release in 1968, and three minutes from The Shining after its opening this May. Robert Altman planned an eight-hour Nashville saga for ABC, and Martin Scorsese hoped to restore many of the sequences cut from New York...
...story's more casual, empty, expository sections. A good deal of the direction in Dressed to Kill appears awkward or perfunctory. Shot for shot, through patches of inaction and weaker stretches of suspense, the movie advances with a clumsy, prosaic quality--not unlike the flat-footed style of Kubrick's The Shining, which DePalma, in a recent interview, says he detests...
...dialogue, and cripples the film's pace with a number of curiously inert scenes featuring stiff, unbelievable talk. Then there is a long wordless sequence, a ludicrous, halting flirtation and pick-up in the galleries of the Metropolitan Museum, drawn out to run 15 minutes in which DePalma (like Kubrick) deploys a steadicam camera, swimming and veering through the chambered rooms, using a subjective panning shot to cover an arc of space that the character, in fact, could take in at a glance. (The device amounts to a kind of cheating, a withholding of information to milk suspense.) And when...