World Trade Center & The Visitor

I cycled to the library this past Friday in a desperate search for something "new" to watch. I ended up with Oliver Stone's World Trade Center and a successful independent piece called The Visitor.

World Trade Center
We all know what this is about. Being barely ten years old at the time of the 9/11 attacks, I remember them only in a vague sense. I never saw the worst images, heard the most horrifying stories. I really don't have an emotional connection with the events. So I thought it would be significant to try and look at that day from my perspective now. On a shallower level, Oliver Stone is one of the few ultra-famous directors I hadn't seen something from, and I was curious. It's not an entertaining movie; it's sad and darkly claustrophobic and I don't think I could have stood it if I hadn't known the main characters would survive. Of course it's well made. It led to a quietly intense, reverently sad and introspective viewing experience.

The Visitor
Basically, a professor shattered by his wife's death finds a reason to live again when he gets involved in the lives of two illegal immigrants whom he finds living in his apartment. It reminded me a lot of the premise of The Soloist, only the plot arc here actually seemed stronger and less jerky. Extremely well-acted and paced, this story (also fairly sad) really makes you think about immigration issues and such. The ending is phenominally powerful. The kind of movie that quietly reminds me of why I want to make films in the first place.

Introductions

A new blog.
A fresh look.

Will it remain lovingly tended or will it die, lonely from neglect?
We shall see.

What can you expect to find here?
I watch a lot of movies. I will try to at least mention each one, and hopefully offer an opinion.
I'm starting my first "major" production. This will serve as a place for updates and comments on that.
And whatever else I find that seems interesting.

My thanks goes out to anyone who takes the time to stop by periodically and see what's up.