Jaime Christley

Jaime Christley

Pro

Now see here, my good man. For the last half hour you've been saying goodbye and staying on. I wish you'd say 'How do you do' and go!

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  • The Princess Bride

    The Princess Bride

    ★★★

    watched with the sweetheart, 4K rip. 3 stars, whatever, I don't really think of it as a FILM OF THE CINEMA but I'm still sorta human

    fascinating contrast between the pro caliber love theme (nominated for Oscar, lost to.... Mannequin? Dirty Dancing? Platoon? Wavelength? who cares) and the rest of the dramatic score, the latter sounds like one of those popup ads for an iPhone game called like "Age of Swords" and it's basically Candy Crush but you have to get a little animated dude across a moat without dumping his gold into the volcano or some shit

  • Pebbles

    Pebbles

    ★★★★

    Fresh director Vinothraj opens boldly with a classic quiet-loud misdirect that only portends a chain of surprising choices to follow. Clocking in at 63 minutes without credits, the film is only elemental enough for you to hang that descriptor on it; no sooner do we grasp that than Vinothraj nimbly minces it up into a child's toy, expertly dismantled and put back together with moon-man ingenuity. And the filmmaker seems less impatient with drama than compelled by margins and spectators,…

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  • Mank

    Mank

    I'd like nothing more than to plead guilty to disliking this film for reasons of Welles loyalty - which, if you know me, I expect is something you already know runs very high for me and repels most small arms fire. No, the antagonism between Welles and Mankiewicz in Fincher's movie is, generously, greatly exaggerated by many of the early previews, the impressions gleaned from trailers, and subsequent publicity-adjacent clickbait articles. The washed-up writer on a long bid for a…

  • His Girl Friday

    His Girl Friday

    ★★★★★

    If you, like me, have already seen this film eleventy-seven times, the clarity of the high-definition transfer on Criterion's Blu-ray reveals and/or emphasizes the film's astonishing artificial-ness: the just-past-its-sell-by-date Hecht/MacArthur play, the yearning to be a pre-Code naughty thwarted because the principals all feel slightly aged out, over-polished, too on their marks; the pre-Breen/-Hays days are gone, and what's even more gone is doing mugs gallery/vaudeville revue strategies to spread the paychecks around and fill out the running time.

    What's…