Word: misted
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...challenge for the makers of political weepies is to bring as much art, intelligence and passion to them as to any other film. Your challenge as a viewer is to make up your own mind and heart. And if you remain unmoved by all the Irish mist in a Ken Loach film, don't think you've hardened into a Darth Vader. Saying no to a weepie, of any wing, is nothing to cry about...
...intensity to the forefront. The peaceful wind chimes that open the song lead into a heartbeat’s thump and grave chords strikingly similar to those in Berlin’s “Take My Breath Away.” The vocals move through the song like mist over a still lake, and Air’s dreamy trance hits a fever pitch. While “Pocket Symphony” is by no means “Talkie Walkie,” you’ll still find yourself eager to explore Air’s breathless...
...songs afterward are darker, but slowly return to the album’s original sweetness. Listening to “Heimdalsgate Like a Promethean Curse,” a saccharine tune about chemical dependence, is like watching the video to old single “Wraith Pinned to the Mist and Other Games,” in which cute happy creatures meet grisly ends. It perfectly sums up the ethos of deceptively sweet Of Montreal...
...surprisingly balmy evening for mid-October in the northeastern Chinese city of Dandong, a soft breeze blowing tendrils of mist across the slate grey surface of the Yalu River. Sprawling for miles along the banks of the river, Dandong seems a perfect, bustling symbol of the "new" China. Brightly dresssed townspeople stroll along the tree-lined promenade, courting teenagers mixing with office workers and doting parents chasing a single, precious child, many of them toting shopping bags from nearby malls. But this is anything but a normal town, because just across the river stands the decrepit North Korean city...
Arriving in Paris in 1924, Hungarian-born Gyula Halász was anything but a photographer. A painter and occasional journalist, he even confessed to despising the art form. But he was a night owl, attracted to a city couched in the glow of street lamps and dense mist. Nocturnal Paris was, to him, a "world of pleasure, of love, vice, crime, drugs ... Paris at its most alive." The work of Brassaï, as Halász became in 1932 (meaning "from Brassó," his native village), made him one of the most admired and enduring photographers of the last...