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Nuit #1 torrent reviews
Richard I (nl) wrote: Reasonably dull tale of Palestinian refugee life as seen through the eyes and dreams of one of its younger participants.
Millo T (gb) wrote: Annaud wanted to tell a story which had the reminiscence from Lawrence of Arabia... and for God sake he got it.
Ts Yeung Yvonne P (ag) wrote: This is a trap, I bought the DVD and realise it now. The story is ok, but what's all the singing and dancing about?
Josh G (gb) wrote: Having seen eight of the Christiano brothers' films, I don't think it would be unfair to say that I have a pretty good idea of where they stand philosophically. Their films usually have as their main plot something regarding the divide between "believers" and non-believers, something about how the secular, or non-Christian media/world is somehow out to get the Christians and they are therefore being persecuted. No one is safe, in the Christiano universe, from the cold clutches of rationalism: when you read the newspaper, you are being attacked by atheists; when you attend college classes, you are surrounded by the enemy; even your daughters are being seduced by the devil's henchmen pretending to be good Christian boys. It's a spiritual war that we're in -- grab your guns, boys! So it is with some surprise that I viewed Time Changer. From Rich Christiano, it's a bigger-budget film than most of their others. It tells the story of Russell Carlisle, a theologian living in the year 1890. He intends to publish a book that posits that people can be good without Jesus in their lives. It seems like an entirely sensible position, but although most of his colleagues are eager to publish the book, one man holds out. This hold-out assures Carlisle that morals without Jesus equals no morality at all, and to prove that fact, he sends Carlisle to the early twenty-first century via a home-made time machine. How a Bible professor who distrusts science could ever have built a time machine is waved away in the same way the Christianos would wave away archaeopteryx fossils. The film surprised me because a lot of the first third involves a bunch of stuffy old theologians debating amongst themselves about the merits of a philosophical point. A bunch of men sitting around a table having a discussion is definitely NOT your typical Christiano film. A conversation without suspicious accusations of nonbelief is usually hard to find in Christiano films. So although I found it uninteresting, I was still kind of encouraged that Rich had managed to put together a dramatic film with some recognizable actors (Richard Riehle, Gavin MacLeod) for a change. But then Carlisle gets magically transported to the present day, and that's when that ol' Christiano charm comes out in full force. In the future, Carlisle finds that the entire world has succumbed to the devil's ruses. Accustomed to the perfect morality of the late 1800s, Carlisle is shocked to see the degradation around him. One man flirts openly with a woman. When Carlisle informs him that his wife (and God) will be upset, the man tells Carlisle that he is divorced... and in fact, that one out of every two people are divorced. "That's fifty percent!" Carlisle manages to exclaim as he suffers a heart attack at the news. Everything, everything freaks Carlisle out. He goes to a movie, only to run out into the lobby screaming that a man on screen blasphemed the name of the Lord and therefore they should stop the movie. Is he just an anachronism in our time, or a raving lunatic? It's not long before Carlisle is invited to speak before a public school's science class. You can guess where this is going already, can't you? In one of the most shocking scenes in any of the Christiano films that I have seen, Carlisle literally says -- without a hint of irony -- that it is a waste of time to try to verify the "facts" laid out in the Bible, since the scripture is the unerring word of God and should never be questioned. Excuse me, Rich? I've got the heliocentric model of the solar system on line one, wants to have a few words with you. So yes, needless to say, the film is embarassingly idiotic -- and therefore hilarious. The Christianos have never been strong filmmakers in any sense, so it's not surprising to see a couple of men break into Carlisle's apartment to find out what he's hiding after he merely misquotes an address. It's not unexpected that a minor character expresses disbelief at Carlisle's backwardness by wondering, "What are you, from the 1890s or something?" It's not difficult to imagine that a world with morals but without Jesus translates into a world almost devoid of morality of any kind, and it's perhaps least surprising to find that the choices of one man mean the difference between a godly world and a moral wasteland. Given the fact that the world is the way it is presented in the film, can we assume that Carlisle went ahead and published his book anyway? Either way, here is my final answer: the Christiano brothers excel at producing feature-length fear tactics. Their films have no merit at all beyond being hilariously inept, ignorant pleas that you please follow our Jesus God and never question his unyielding love or else you'll burn in Hell forever. Spread the word! Yes, Time Changer is terrible. But that's a given. It's also great for a few laughs and a good time, but it's difficult to sit through the entire thing... even at 88 minutes. P.S. I just had a thought: I bet Carlisle was devastated that the Rapture didn't happen within his lifetime, as I'm sure everybody around him had to have been predicting. Oh well. There's always the twenty-second century!
Lewis E (gb) wrote: Successfully conveys some very wise messages on manhood, race and unity to give audiences something to reflect upon. I think characterisation is the film's strong point with every person's background and interaction with each other showing various aspects of significance in this journey to the million man march.
Ian L (us) wrote: Poor 'flying' sequences but still a bracing and spirit lifting account of airmens' determination against adversity.
Husnan C (ru) wrote: Though not an amazing movie, it sure as hell is eye opener, and I'd recommend watching it. 3.5/5
Danny C (us) wrote: Ha ha, tits! Fuck off.
Tommaso D (br) wrote: Honest and very original, Me and Earl and The Dying Girl gains for sure a place in my favourite teen dramas.The perspective from which this movie was filmed is brilliant, and the actors really manage to give touching performances over a complex topic.
Andr D (mx) wrote: Edward Zwick ("The Last Samurai", "Blood Diamond") dirige "Pawn Sacrifice", una excelente pelcula que se aproxima a la vida del controversial ajedrecista Bobby Fisher. Tobey McGuire encarna al genio paranoico y antisemita a la perfeccin y su enfrentamiento con Boris Spassky, el otro genio del ajedrez (interpretado de manera genial por Liev Schreiber) es dinamita pura. Los actores Michael Stuhlbarg y Peter Sarsgaard, quienes encarnan a los protectores de Fisher, tambin nos ofrecen unas actuaciones tanto intensas como profundas. El uso del director de la banda sonora y las escenas que combinan tomas reales de la poca con tomas actuales, le dan a la pelcula elegancia y sofisticacin. Aunque "Searching For Bobby Fisher" sigue siendo la pelcula definitiva sobre el ajedrez, "Pawn Sacrifice" no se queda atrs. Tiene alma, corazn y cerebro.
Paul Z (ag) wrote: Critics who fault Lumet for highlighting the characters' impressions and mindset more than their believed historical or political accuracy were ignorant of the fact that, even in our loudly, reductively politicized times, storytelling is not the same as politics or history. Lumet doesn't overlook social texture in this humanistic triumph, but he's first an artistic craftsman, fashioning his own vision of the world's dealings. Lumet does entail, in Daniel's meeting with the NY Times reporter, the potential guilt of the youth's parents. As he does throughout his work though, he looks for connotations in actions, not just social particulars. The film doesn't hinge on Rosenbergian associations and recollections but like all stories relies on our understanding of these characters' predicaments, signaling the complete human catch-22. It's about the price of zeal. Who pays it? Daniel longs more to comprehend than to validate the past. Lumet shows him fighting to know himself, his spite and fixations, and struggling through a grasp of his family's devastations. He becomes a sort of detective of his own life as he probes his family's saga and re-experiences his reactions to the uncommon burdens put on him by his parents' trial and execution. Through Daniel's hunt for self-discovery in his own recollections, in addition to his links with people who were concerned in his parents' case, we see from within thirty years in the life of American discord, from the Depression and WWII to the McCarthy era and the 1960s' anti-war movement. The effects of parents on children, of dogma on life, of the past on individuals, are contemplated in the saga of two generations of a family whose obsession is not success, money or love, but social integrity. Lumet is conveying his wish to exceed the boundaries compelled by the brand of realism in Serpico, Dog Day Afternoon, Prince of the City, etc. Notwithstanding his concern with social matters, he never made message movies. What he favors are essentially character studies. Generally the most dramatic altercations occur between characters in the framework of the society they occupy. So his predilection guides him to political suggestions. This is a profound, solidly felt film that enhances the central characters who partake in Daniel's revelation of himself and his bond with past and present. In a deeper and fuller way the film reconstructs the imagery and themes of the Rosenbergs' world, the hazards of an existence on the brink of romanticism, the fabled load of deeds much smaller than their penalties. Certainly the Isaacson most undone by such things is Daniel's younger sister, Susan. Lumet opens the film with Susan's badgering of Daniel and her foster parents on the good radical political usage of her parents' trust fund, following succinct fourth wall breakage of Daniel's callous explanation of the electrocution procedure and Lumet's ensuing cut to 1960s political protests. Susan has already started to use political involvement as she previously used religion, drugs and sex, as a surrogate for comprehending her distressing need to obliterate her consciousness. Following scenes that revert to their childhood, Daniel finds Susan's present of an old "Free Them" poster and an opened sachet of razor blades in declaration of her attempted suicide. Lumet then instantly cuts to after their parents' arrest, when Ascher, the attorney, takes the children to a rally for the Isaacsons. Abruptly cries emerge, "Here are the children," and hands appear to pass the petrified children to the platform. Little Susan shouts for her brother as they're stage-managed as political poker chips over ceremonial cries, "Free them," an omen of Susan's adult dependence. From below, Lumet draws near on the stricken faces defenseless in the squeeze of passion. Defenseless. Daniel's visit to the committed Susan happens after allusions to Rochelle's demented mother, cyclically driven mad by the struggle of her immigrant life. This layout offers political and emotional background for Susan's psychosomatic degeneration, still trying to use her mocking humor to offset hopelessness. It's this that launches Daniel's course of turning from hostility against the world and his stand-in family, his young wife and infant son. Nowhere in the film are Paul Robeson's spirituals more poignant than throughout the siblings' trip homeward from a cruel charity shelter. Cinematographer Andrzej Bartkowiak's burgundy browns overshadow as, to Robeson's solemn song, Lumet draws the defenseless route through the cold backdrop. The children hold one another on traffic islands, Susan coiling into her big brother. The triumph of Lumet's handling of Paul and Rochelle Isaacson was in illustrating American communism as another political approach which was not just customary in its environment, but in many ways important and constructive. In a first-rate scene, Paul coaches the admiring Daniel on the iniquities of DiMaggio's manipulation of his image and his audience through his picture on a cereal box. Ultimately, the film ends by ironically observing the romantic modern goodness of the late 1960s that asserted that the revolution had unfolded and that thus things inevitably were better than when the Isaacsons met a gruesome outcome at the behest of a thoughtless judicial system. Daniel closes the film possibly reflecting on that exact question, not predictably undertaking a basic extremism, a comfortable Marxist unity with his general past. Lumet's political and moral vision is seldom so basic.