Roy Anderssons world is a bleak place peopled by lonely individuals who inhabit drab monochromatic rooms. Like zombies, the inhabitants trudge across the gloomy cityscape wearing pale, ghoulish makeup.
Inspired by the revolutionary climate of the 60s and 70s, young filmmakers sought to reshape Japanese society by challenging womens traditional roles. In a beguiling body of films, three actressesKaji Meiko, Okada Mariko, and Wakao Ayakoflouted prevailing screen stereotypes of chaste, submissive, and self-sacrificing women.
A symphony in three movements, Jean-Luc Godards latest film meditates on the sweeping mutations wrought by new digital technologies, globalization, and the monetization of more and more aspects of human life. A reflection on Europes past, present, and future, its a compendium of familiar Godardian tropes and themes.
Jean-Luc Godard’s latest dispatch on the current state of media and the world is a densely layered montage of films, sounds, and texts in the inscrutable style he has honed since his magnum opus Histoire(s) du cinéma (1988-1998).
In Bi Gan's depictions of his hometown, Kaili, located in the mountainous Guizhou province in southwest China, the streets are unfailingly rain-soaked and it's always night. The buildings are abandoned and everything is beautifully decrepit.
Shinjuku, Tokyo in the late 60s and early 70s was an electrifying place: student radicals, avant-garde street performers, drag queens, and assorted hippies crossed paths in a vortex of vibrant counterculture. In the heart of Shinjuku stood the Shinjuku Bunka, the Art Theatre Guilds flagship showplace. Painted stark greyin contrast to the surrounding gaudy commercial theatersthe Bunka introduced Tokyoites to European art cinema as well as to the most daring Japanese independent productions of the day.