Dennis Villeneuve

>Dennis Villeneuve
>Damien Chazelle
>Xavier Dolan
>Steve McQueen
>Alejandro G. Iñárritu
>Tom Ford
>Jeff Nichols
>Asghar Farhadi
>Ken Loach
>Cristian Mungiu
Today's most dishonest enemies of cinema and inauthentic frauds, we can all agree, correct? Who else belongs on that list?

Not sure yet, they go both ways depending on film
>Richard Linklater / Everybody Wants Some! is honest
>Jeremy Saulnier
>NW Refn / TND is inauthentic
>Derek Cianfrance
>Martin Scorsese / silence is honest yet inauthentic
>Jim Jarmusch / Paterson is authentic yet dishonest
>David O Russell and PTA / incredibly inauthentic yet deeply honest

>puts Dennis Villeneuve on the list
>Armond White as a pic

You are aware that Armond loves his work?
He basically sucked Villeneuve's cock dry in his Sicario and Arrival reviews.

>shits all over Denis Villeneuve and Jeff Nichols while using a pic of Armond White
You "dishonest" memers are so fucking stupid. Armond loves Denis and doesn't hate Nichols. He hated Mud but he loved Shotgun Stories and had mixed feelings on Midnight Special.

His only flaw.

>Richard Linklater
He din du nuffin

Villenueve is dishonest

So are the Coen fags

Nothin good anyways

ileywn davis was kino though

You don't even know what that word means

Armond White would smack you hard for being so retarded.

And you're tiresome, you meme spouting fuck.

>When an apparition of Bob Dylan appears in Inside Llewyn Davis, it underscores the Coen Brothers’ abiding ambivalence about their Jewishness. Dylan, the oracular pop-star-prophet -outsider from Minnesota (like the Coens) represents an advance on mainstream culture and power that troubles the Coen Brothers’ fascination with American character.

>Inside Llewyn Davis is the latest go-round for these clever lads’ interest in the agonies of personal identity amidst a heartless society not entirely their own. Llewyn (Oscar Isaacs), a dark, curly-haired folksinger in 1961 New York City, is barely over the suicide of his singing partner. He’s economically strapped, homeless, living off patronizing friends and virtually begging for a solo recording career while also booty-begging for understanding from a free-spirit Greenwich Village girl (Cary Crybaby Mulligan) he might have impregnated.

>Knocking at the door of WASP-Americana–the 50s-60s folk-music craze–Llewyn is a modern Wandering Jew who, like Dylan, dare not speak his ethnicity (his name is a Welsh creation like Dylan’s chosen’s moniker). The Coens cutely symbolize Llewyn’s rootlessness in his constant chasing after a friends’ runaway Calico cat named Ulysses–more cuteness evoking the Homeric wandering of the Coens’ O Brother Where Art Thou? While that 2001 film was a surprising rich excursion into country music culture and America’s racial legacy, Inside Llewyn Davis offers no surprises. It’s solemn but not funny.

>The Coens’ peripatetic imagination frequently dips into recurring obsessions (the film noir genre, pop music totems, literary antecedents and sharp political satire) finding rich veins of humor and feeling–as in their best movies The Man Who Wasn’t There, The Ladykillers, The Big Lebowski and A Serious Man. But Inside Llewyn Davis is their first movie that feels wholly redundant.

>This is a thornier problem than simply the Coens’ self-pleasing sarcasm, their intellectual narcissism. They’re not clever by half; it’s second nature to these new era movie brats. But the self-pleasing self-indulgence may offer less meaning in itself than it does to them and their fans. That eye-wink title, Inside Llewyn Davis, refers to his non-selling solo debut album (he stashes a milk crate full of the vinyl discs at a friend’s apartment) as well as a teasing exploration of his soul. Problem is, Llewyn’s “soul” is shown without the insight into Jewish tradition (which made A Serious Man extraordinary) but as a series of beautifully-tooled, second-hand motifs.

>Here, the Coens revisit the untrustworthy pop culture of Barton Fink and the Jewish paranoia of A Serious Man. Combined, they question the ethics of American pop culture and the neediness of Jewish artists. Been there, atoned for that.

>Working with talented cinematographer Bruno Delbonnel (who shot Bogdanovich’s The Cat’s Meow and Aleksander Sokurov’s bizarre, redundant Faust), the Coens lose the sharp, emotional evocation of regular collaborator Roger Deakins, who gave vision to Denis Villeneuve’s Prisoners, for a more obvious illustration of existential mystery. This film looks good: Dark and shadowy with pale, hazy light–moody road scenes of Llewyn driving through blurred visibility and traffic bumps.

>But sharpness matters; it proves perception and insight. Delbonnel proves the Coens are coasting. Satire on haimish Jewish camaraderie may be affectionate and recognizable (a colleague’s wife tells Llewyn “I thought singing was a joyous expression of the soul”) yet this doesn’t go beyond Paul Mazursky’s Next Stop Greenwich Village (1976) which piercingly captured the Jewish New Yorker’s response to sex, hip, Hollywood, pop and Americana. Instead, The Coens go “smart.” Llewyn meets John Goodman as a Burl Ives-folk icon on two canes with a heroin addiction and his dour, sexually ambiguous chauffeur (Garrett Hedlund of last year’s fine but neglected On the Road adaptation) plus a sneaky bookshelf nod to Nabokov’s Pale Fire.

>Fans and critics who are familiar with the Coens will overrate these details. Problem is, Inside Llewyn Davis (with its lament “Where is its scrotum?!!” and jokey references to Disney’s The Incredible Journey) question Jewish alienation superficially. HBO’s Flight of the Conchords was a more trenchant display of outsiders’ music biz alienation. But Oscar Isaac’s Llewyn, with his Hoffman-Pacino whine, seems disconnected from his own singing and lacks the great feeling he showed in his role as the remorseful pop star in the high school reunion film Ten Years.

>Critics who cluelessly praise T-Bone Burnett’s musical production ignore Burnett’s drab musicianship. The musical banality of Inside Llewyn Davis is its greatest problem–impersonal, apolitical folk music. Llewyn, a modern version of Saul Bellow’s Dangling Man–searching for his place in society and the universe, dangling between expectation and reality–really is less talented than Llewyn’s deeply envied WASP competitor GI Troy Nelson (Stark Sands) who has the unfathomable gift of connecting to listeners.

>Dennis Villeneuve
Why do you Armond fanboys love to shit on him? Armond loves Villeneuve.
>Jeff Nichols
Another person you Armond fanboys shouldn't hate. Go read Armond's review of Shotgun Stories.
>Richard Linklater
Are you fucking kidding me? You Armond fanboys should hate him with a burning passion. Armond has consistently panned him. I don't think he has ever liked one of Linklater's films.

Bravo zero contributions to the thread. Dishonest and memes among zero arguments.

>Inside Llewyn Davis doesn’t connect. The Coens are facetious about Llewyn’s personal crisis. That’s why the movie ends the same way as Philip Kaufman’s The Wanderers with Dylan revolutionizing Jews’ and the world’s selfconsciousness. The slick, talented Coens may please fans who are already familiar with their habits but, sadly, for gifted, witty film artists, the Coens’ Inside Llewyn Davis says nothing new.

The best Coens imo are A Serious Man, Barton Fink, No Country for Old Men, Man Who Wasn't There and Lebooski

>Why do you Armond fanboys love to shit on him?
We love Armond because he's a free-thinker, despite his blatant shit taste a lot of times. Doesn't mean we have to aligne ourselves on his taste all the time. We're Sup Forums,'s the contrarian's contrarians.

Cherrypicking, Armond has praised No Country for Old Men and other Coen bros films.

I'm not OP. But I posted the review.
I just think ILD is one of the weaker Coen movies

>Coens’ Inside Llewyn Davis says nothing new

Tell me one other movie which shows the neverending struggle of a musician without giving you the happy ending of success

Now post his Hidden Figures review.

Ask Armond he's watched more movies than me

ayy lmao, your "le every filmmaker I don't like is dishonest" meme hasn't contributed anything to this thread. You're a shitposter like the rest of us, the only difference between you and I is you're a pretentious faggot who thinks his shitposts are actual discussion.

>Who else belongs on that list?
Korine and Noé

>As enjoyable as Patriots Day, Hidden Figures dramatizes a different social tragedy: the Jim Crow–era segregation that once was in effect at the National Aeronautics and Space Administration. But Hidden Figures aims for a more conventional celebration. It honors the Southern black female mathematicians whose calculations were essential to readying the space program.

>Director Theodore Melfi sets up a parallel to the climactic shot in Philip Kaufman’s The Right Stuff , in which the Mercury astronauts walked abreast, with rhythmic deliberation, toward the camera and their own heroism. Here, Octavia Spencer, Taraji P. Henson, and Janelle Monáe lead their co-workers from the “Colored Computers” department through the hallway toward equality, and they march forward.

>No one had measured for progress as the NASA prepared for the computer age, and another good metaphor shows a doorway being enlarged for the mammoth in-coming IBM computers. Hidden Figures isn’t a ground-, ceiling-, door-, or wall-breaking movie, but it entertains through its cast’s charm. Spencer eases into the matriarch role with comic toughness. Henson, recently of the trashy TV series Empire, finally plays a human being who takes some personal responsibility. Monáe lends sass to social determination. While Hidden Figures doesn’t address the issues of intelligence and gender roles with the depth and ingenuity of Akeelah and the Bee, the filmmakers avoid sanctimony and show no sense of entitlement. Their approach to history is on a human scale, so that the scene where Henson enters the sanctum of white mathematicians and sits alone, with no one talking to her, becomes emblematic of “progress” among the enlightened class. (But the running gag of Henson’s trekking outside for lavatory breaks doesn’t work. The accompanying song “I don’t want a free ride / I’m just sick and tired of running” is pseudo-soulful grandstanding.)

Reminder I'm not OP I'm just a messanger

how dare you disrespect Ken Loach you fuck

>It is appropriate that Kevin Costner plays the white NASA manager who facilitates the agency’s integration; after all, he played Whitney Houston’s bodyguard, an additional bow in the quiver of masculine virtues that Costner has displayed in social-issue films from JFK to Thirteen Days, from Swing Vote to Black and White. The scene in which he pries a “White’s Only” sign from a restroom embodies moral principle as much as Spencer, Henson, and Monáe’s efforts to maintain womanly dignity.

>There’s also wit in Spencer’s answer when her obstinate supervisor (Kirsten Dunst) says, “Despite what you think, I don’t have anything against you.” Spencer smiles as she replies, “I know you don’t think you do.” It almost makes up for the psychotic revenge she had to enact in The Help. Because Hidden Figures never succumbs to equating the struggles of the past with modern grievance, it rises above today’s undignified protesting.

...

>shits on people for not contributing to the thread
>hasn't contributed to the thread
When are you gonna post some actual arguments?

You're mama was dishonest when she cucked you're dad with a nigger

>“Despite what you think, I don’t have anything against you.” Spencer smiles as she replies, “I know you don’t think you do.”
This is what white people hate the most about black people, along with the crime.

I unironically think that Armond is by far the best film critic out there

this

Yeah, i hate it too when someone calls on my bullshit.

I think he is great pop writer, he just choose this medium as a way to show his writing skill.

I enjoy his reviews often but i don't see eye to eye with him most of the time.

He is 100% on the nose when he blasts Marvel thou.

What's dishonest about Cristian Mungiu? It is pretty clear that he really cares about his films and makes them for the sake of art.

He's hardly a film critic, he only discusses what he thinks are the political views of the director and the lowest ranking artistic tool of them all symbolism.

Too many mentions of "muh nationalism muh social decay muh diversity muh millenials"

Still, pretty interesting reads and can form some really usable shitposting sentences.

>calling people on their bullshit
>claiming you are clairvoyant
Is that one of her QWAANZ powers?

This guy watches like two movies a day and has seen almost everything from euro cinema to old classics.

You think his criticism against today's Hollywood trashiness is just informed by political bias?

He's shit desu

>Dennis Villeneuve

You're a fucking pleb, OP.

Since 'dishonest' is just the flavor of the month term for 'bleak', I must say that you are just a retard.

>We
Lol. Fucking end yourself, cancer

t. a fucking imdb graduate

>Enemy is a bad film
>Prisoners is a bad film

Go fuck right off.