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, with their exquisite imagery of the eerie and evil, the everlasting poignancy of his work is his deftly diabolical 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.
The titles forming this recent trend have diegetic time loops, ones built into their narratives and acknowledged by the characters, with the temporally unmoored antics explained by malfunctioning time machines, meddling gods, or simple mental illness.
Formally, Pearl is his most elegant film, with careful, considered, yet modest compositions and smooth camera movements. West and regular DP Eliot Rockett use the whole wide frame, placing Pearl in the periphery of many shots with the farm consuming the rest, the countryside like a romantic painting spread over the background.
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.
This was the first year that the film curators of MoMI visited the Cannes Film Festival together. Eric Hynes and Edo Choi compare notes on the scene, the culture of the festival, the slate, and what it might mean for MoMI.