bollywood's inherent romanticism and theatricality distorted through the lens of an all-consuming sleaze. desire so strong it manifests itself in some of the most striking reds i have ever seen on film, reds that could look as if they could burst into flames at any second.
would weirdly enough make a great thematic companion piece to Audition (see Eva Bee's review of the same which letterboxd isnt letting me link for some reason) in that Maya is, for all intents…
how do Kurosawa films consistantly feel like cursed objects??? not even sure i fully got this one and i think it had the weakest ending out of any one of his movies ive seen so far ( while much more interesting that that of Creepy, i thought it was executed less well overall) but oh boy, the slow march towards a predetermined fate that reveals itself to hold, not narrative truths, but unspeakable philosophical and sociological truths instead never gets old!