The ghost of Bogart hovers over two films from the 1970s that are screening in the Snubbed series, selections that exemplify the Academy’s indifference to unlikable antiheroes adrift in diffuse underworlds.
The soccer highlight video has proliferated. Whether 90 seconds or 10-plus minutes, these little portraits of players are essential for fans who try to keep up with the game in all its inexhaustible intricacies . . . They also have an aesthetic of their own, with their own characteristic music, montage, and mise-en-scène.
Tsuchimoto made more than a dozen more films about Minamata, which reflects a level of personal dedication unrivaled by most other documentarians. He also made films about student revolts, the plight of the average fisherman, Siberia, and Afghanistan.
Translating Poe to a visual medium is an inherently tricky endeavor: though the plots of his stories lend themselves to film, the everlasting poignancy of his work is his deft use of language to conjure moods of ominous ineffability.
That tension that Caan carries merely by being on-screen might be best exemplified in The Gambler, the 1974 film directed by Karel Reisz from a James Toback script. It follows Caan as Axel Freed, a clever Harvard-educated literature professor and gambling addict from a well-to-do New York Jewish family.
I actively learned from what I saw at the Costa Rican International Film Festival: words, sensations, geographies, lost histories. And I learned even more from the artistic director, Fernando Chaves Espinach, a curator with a strong sense of where the fest has been and where it is headed.