Stoopid

I will try, kosmo, to watch this Matador as well, I will give one last chance to a director who has never impressed me much.

Absolutely true, the drier and, so to speak, minimalist Coppola. Even the sound of the name "Harry Caul" is magnificently dry, essential. How different the two stories of Caul and Kurtz are, or perhaps how similar. Certainly, they are narrated in almost opposite ways. If I have to seek out his masterpiece, I go to the border with Cambodia, but it’s just a matter of taste.

I copy and paste Grasshopper.

Forgive me, Bart, I had overlooked your reference to the initial sequence during a quick first reading; no, then there's absolutely nothing missing.

Great film and great review, you said a thousand right things, among other things you did very well to highlight the extraordinary level of sound, the dodecaphony of the interferences, magnificent. Personally, I would like to add that the opening sequence of this film is one of the most memorable in the history of cinema, and I’m not joking.

Ladies and gentlemen, let’s get back on track because it’s much better. I would like to highlight the magnificent quote from Fellini mentioned by the author of the review about 3000 comments ago. I allow myself to copy and paste it because it fits this film like cheese on macaroni: Let’s close with Fellini’s words, who, in response to Grazzini’s question about what he liked, answered: "the stations, Matisse, risotto, Rossini, the rose, the Marx brothers, the tiger, waiting for appointments hoping the other won't come, Totò, not having been there, Piero Della Francesca, everything that defines a beautiful woman, Homer, Joan Blondell, September, torrone ice cream, cherries, Brunello from Montalcino, big bottoms on bikes, trains and the basket on the train, Ariosto, the cocker and dogs in general, the smell of wet earth, the scent of hay, broken laurel, cypress, the winter sea, people who talk little, James Bond, the One Step, empty places, squalor, empty churches, silence, Ostia, Torvajanica, the sound of bells, finding myself alone on Sunday afternoon in Urbino, basil, Bologna, Venice, all of Italy, Chandler, the doormen, Simenon, Dickens, Kafka, London, roasted chestnuts, the subway, taking the bus, tall beds, Vienna, waking up, falling asleep, stationery shops, Faber pencils No. 2, variety shows, bitter chocolate, secrets, dawn, night, spirits, Wimpy, Stan and Ollie, Turner, Leda Gloria, Greta Garbo, soubrettes and dancers”……. excellent Saturday.

Beautiful this pioneering phase where hundreds of masterpieces are there, untouched, within reach of the first one who arrives. Who knows if one day I will make it too.

I'm with Punisher; in the review, even more than for the music, one should never compare ratings, it never works. Gola Profonda on Debaser could be a 4, a 5, or a 1000; this does not detract from Fellini, and rightly so. Marcello is the most poetic character in Italian cinema that I can remember; the film is immense, overflowing, in the sense that any common judgment feels too narrow. Quite an insightful review.

I met him in person at a deli, a man of rare ugliness, but he's made some pretty good songs.

List of useful movies, please.