Tuesday, May 26, 2009
From Hell
Interestingly, when Joe asked me if I wanted to watch "From Hell", I said yes. Those of you who read my top ten list of movies I wouldn't watch know that there is a fine distinction between those movies I enjoy and the ones I refuse to see. But several reasons made me interested in this. First of all, I like Johnny Depp. Actually, that's the main reason. I'm also interested in Alan Moore, who wrote the graphic novel that the movie is based on. The movie turned out to be quite entertaining, and not extremely graphic, though there is a lot of blood. The killings are swift and handled fairly well. However, the ending was ruined for both myself and Joe, as the film swerved away from the book, from history, and from any narrative sense, and (SPOILER ALERT) managed to produce a somewhat happy ending. No, Johnny doesn’t get the girl, but the very fact that the girl is spared rather than butchered spoils the movie’s credibility as a serious adaptation. I told you there’d be some spoiling!
Monday, May 25, 2009
Chats perchés by Chris Marker
Ever since seeing Sans Soleil recently, I have been obsessed about Chris Marker. I went to the library and got out a stack of books about him, and a DVD of Chats perchés (2004), or as known in English, The Case of the Grinning Cat. Made in his signature style with loosely connected and rambling thoughts jumping now and again to amusing or amazing juxtapositions and revelations, Chats perchés was originally made for French television, and starts by exploring yellow painted Cheshire-like cats that began to appear all over Paris. From there, we meander through an exploration of the previous four years, from 9/11 and the Iraq war to scandals in French politics, all punctuated by the return of the cats. My favourite line was about the narrator doing an Internet search for chat (cat in French) and having to weed out all the links to chatrooms. Not being up on my French current events, I have to say I wasn't as drawn in by Chats perchés, but appreciated seeing more of Marker's work.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Matrix #83: Terror!
Turn it off!
“I just don’t understand you,” Joe said to me after we’d turned Blindness off after our second attempt at watching it. “It’s so random,” he says, “why you can watch one thing and not another. You can watch corpses and blood and dead bodies but not this?”
It certainly might seem random, as I’m not always able to articulate the reasons why I don’t want to watch a particular film. But there are certain traits that these movies share. That was when I first conceived of the Matrix Movie List of Terror: movies that I’m too terrified to watch, that I dare not watch, that I will not subject myself to. I mean, what is the whole point of wanting to be terrorized by a movie? I just don’t get it.
Horror films are most obviously associated with terror, and what distinguishes the two terms seems almost ephemeral. There is extreme anxiety in both, sure, but horror as a genre encompasses films that are not necessarily terrifying (like those great old Karloff/Legosi silent films). And I’m not one who simply dislikes a genre – I like a good horror film, in fact, the feeling of prickles cold on my neck, hands sweaty. I’m quite fond of many Japanese horror films, for instance. I admire how a really good thrill is constructed through mood and editing, as in Ringu or A Tale of Two Sisters. And we recently watched a Mario Bava masterpiece, Black Sunday, which featured truly horrible scenes such as a woman getting a spiked iron mask nailed onto her face. Aghhhhhhh!
Most of these films are so over the top that I know they are not real. Camp and comedy are excellent distancing devices, classic techniques that allow the audience to step back from the abyss with relief, knowing that although what they are watching is horrible and terrifying, it’s still just a movie. A good horror makes me laugh as well as squirm, even if I’m just laughing to let off steam.
We’re watching Da Vinci’s Inquest right now, that long-running classic of Canadian television. I’d never seen the show before and was sucked right in. There is a lot of aftermath of violence: murder, suicide, even infant rape in one particularly gruesome episode (I felt it might have gone too far with that one). But it’s all aftermath, and the corpses are simply grisly objects, clues in a puzzle to be solved. We take the same detached tone as the coroner, the pathologists and the murder unit.
So what am I unwilling to watch? What is unbearable?
My List of Terror includes horror movies, thrillers, a movie about terrorism, a religious drama, and some documentaries:
Blindness is the movie version of a book by José Saramago, about a plague of blindness and the rapid decay of societal order that follows. It’s a book that I read and loved, though its subject matter is dark and depressing indeed. But reading is not the same as seeing, and the pleasure of prose, of well-written words and the long followed-through thought on the page provides an aesthetic steam valve. The thought of actually seeing some of those scenes, especially one involving mass rape, was a bit too much to bear. Perhaps I was prejudiced by that thought alone. I wanted to stay open-minded about it, though, and tried to watch the film anyways. It was too clean-looking, with too many stars in it, for one. Too pretty, maybe. But getting to that scene, the men hitting those women in the face in silhouette, that just made me want to turn it off. So we did.
United 93’s tagline: “September 11, 2001. Four planes were hijacked. Three of them reached their target. This is the story of the fourth.” I‘ve heard it is actually a very good film, striking the right tone, no big stars to distract, very measured and respectful. Joe saw it and agrees. I don’t want to see it anyways. I’ve heard about the people on that plane, calling home to say goodbye, and for a moment, I’m with them, calling Joe to say goodbye, and it breaks me down everytime. I can’t bear to be with them for more than that moment, never mind almost two hours.
Polytechnique by Denis Villeneuve is on the list for similar reasons. By all accounts, it is very well-done, and has been compared to another poetic and meditative approach to the subject of a school shooting, Gus Van Sant’s Elephant, which I’ve seen and liked. Why this and not that, indeed? I like Villeneuve’s work, and I’m not against seeing Polytechnique, necessarily, but it seems too close to the bone still, an open wound I’d rather let heal than disturb.
Then there are the horror films. The Amityville Horror I’ve always had a fear of, ever since it came out when I was a kid. I’d been reading ghost stories and movies about hauntings and demons always scared me way more than zombies or ax murderers. Amityville was “a true story.” I was scared shitless of it, and even though I could probably watch it now, I’d just rather not. Same deal with The Exorcist and The Omen – though I think I’ve actually seen The Exorcist but blocked most of it out.
Henry, Portrait of a Serial Killer, is supposed to be a very, in fact, too realistic and graphic depiction of a serial killer. Like I need to live that out. No thanks!
Films like Saw and 8MM both seem entirely tasteless to me, morally and aesthetically, particularly 8MM’s use of a snuff film as a plot device.. Maybe if I thought they’d be any good, it might be another story, but I won’t be bothered to find out.
The same can be said for the last two entries, both purportedly documentaries. Executions is a real documentary, Faces of Death part stock footage, part faked. I’m not sure which is worse, but both seem too exploitative for words. I’ve heard arguments about Executions being a great argument against the death penalty, but I don’t know that you need to partake in it to be against it.
And finally, Mel Gibson’s Jesus movie, what was it? Oh yeah, The Passion of the Christ. Two hours of straight sadism and torture. Don’t want to see it, nope. My mother, a devout church lady, saw it with her church, can you imagine? My mother said everybody should see that film to know what Jesus went through for us. I can’t believe her church made her do that! She said she couldn’t sleep for weeks afterwards. But I’m not going to have that problem, because regardless of what my mother says, I’m not going to see it.
I can tell you what each of these movies have in common, besides my unwillingness to put myself through the wringer for the sake of entertainment: It is the portrayal of the prolonged suffering of others, first and foremost. Whether it’s the ultimate in exploitation, or done with the utmost respect, I still have trouble with it. Some might argue that it’s the elements of catharsis, or consciousness-raising, or “looking into the face of the abyss” – that kind of thing, that might justify viewing these films. Okay, maybe. But as Nietschze’s oft-used aphorism (popular especially in horror movies) points out, the abyss looks back… and when you battle monsters, you must take care not to become one yourself.
The Matrix Top Ten Movie List of Terror: movies I’m too terrified to watch!
Blindness (2008) – Fernando Meirelles
United 93 (2006) – Paul Greengrass
Polytechnique (2009) – Denis Villeneuve
Amityville Horror (1979) – Stuart Rosenberg
The Exorcist (1973) – William Friedkin
Henry, Portrait of a Serial Killer (1986) – John McNaughton
8 mm (1999) – Joel Schumacher
Faces of Death (1978) – John Alan Schwartz
Executions (1995) – David Herman, Arun Kumar, David Monaghan
The Passion of the Christ (2004) – Mel Gibson
“I just don’t understand you,” Joe said to me after we’d turned Blindness off after our second attempt at watching it. “It’s so random,” he says, “why you can watch one thing and not another. You can watch corpses and blood and dead bodies but not this?”
It certainly might seem random, as I’m not always able to articulate the reasons why I don’t want to watch a particular film. But there are certain traits that these movies share. That was when I first conceived of the Matrix Movie List of Terror: movies that I’m too terrified to watch, that I dare not watch, that I will not subject myself to. I mean, what is the whole point of wanting to be terrorized by a movie? I just don’t get it.
Horror films are most obviously associated with terror, and what distinguishes the two terms seems almost ephemeral. There is extreme anxiety in both, sure, but horror as a genre encompasses films that are not necessarily terrifying (like those great old Karloff/Legosi silent films). And I’m not one who simply dislikes a genre – I like a good horror film, in fact, the feeling of prickles cold on my neck, hands sweaty. I’m quite fond of many Japanese horror films, for instance. I admire how a really good thrill is constructed through mood and editing, as in Ringu or A Tale of Two Sisters. And we recently watched a Mario Bava masterpiece, Black Sunday, which featured truly horrible scenes such as a woman getting a spiked iron mask nailed onto her face. Aghhhhhhh!
Most of these films are so over the top that I know they are not real. Camp and comedy are excellent distancing devices, classic techniques that allow the audience to step back from the abyss with relief, knowing that although what they are watching is horrible and terrifying, it’s still just a movie. A good horror makes me laugh as well as squirm, even if I’m just laughing to let off steam.
We’re watching Da Vinci’s Inquest right now, that long-running classic of Canadian television. I’d never seen the show before and was sucked right in. There is a lot of aftermath of violence: murder, suicide, even infant rape in one particularly gruesome episode (I felt it might have gone too far with that one). But it’s all aftermath, and the corpses are simply grisly objects, clues in a puzzle to be solved. We take the same detached tone as the coroner, the pathologists and the murder unit.
So what am I unwilling to watch? What is unbearable?
My List of Terror includes horror movies, thrillers, a movie about terrorism, a religious drama, and some documentaries:
Blindness is the movie version of a book by José Saramago, about a plague of blindness and the rapid decay of societal order that follows. It’s a book that I read and loved, though its subject matter is dark and depressing indeed. But reading is not the same as seeing, and the pleasure of prose, of well-written words and the long followed-through thought on the page provides an aesthetic steam valve. The thought of actually seeing some of those scenes, especially one involving mass rape, was a bit too much to bear. Perhaps I was prejudiced by that thought alone. I wanted to stay open-minded about it, though, and tried to watch the film anyways. It was too clean-looking, with too many stars in it, for one. Too pretty, maybe. But getting to that scene, the men hitting those women in the face in silhouette, that just made me want to turn it off. So we did.
United 93’s tagline: “September 11, 2001. Four planes were hijacked. Three of them reached their target. This is the story of the fourth.” I‘ve heard it is actually a very good film, striking the right tone, no big stars to distract, very measured and respectful. Joe saw it and agrees. I don’t want to see it anyways. I’ve heard about the people on that plane, calling home to say goodbye, and for a moment, I’m with them, calling Joe to say goodbye, and it breaks me down everytime. I can’t bear to be with them for more than that moment, never mind almost two hours.
Polytechnique by Denis Villeneuve is on the list for similar reasons. By all accounts, it is very well-done, and has been compared to another poetic and meditative approach to the subject of a school shooting, Gus Van Sant’s Elephant, which I’ve seen and liked. Why this and not that, indeed? I like Villeneuve’s work, and I’m not against seeing Polytechnique, necessarily, but it seems too close to the bone still, an open wound I’d rather let heal than disturb.
Then there are the horror films. The Amityville Horror I’ve always had a fear of, ever since it came out when I was a kid. I’d been reading ghost stories and movies about hauntings and demons always scared me way more than zombies or ax murderers. Amityville was “a true story.” I was scared shitless of it, and even though I could probably watch it now, I’d just rather not. Same deal with The Exorcist and The Omen – though I think I’ve actually seen The Exorcist but blocked most of it out.
Henry, Portrait of a Serial Killer, is supposed to be a very, in fact, too realistic and graphic depiction of a serial killer. Like I need to live that out. No thanks!
Films like Saw and 8MM both seem entirely tasteless to me, morally and aesthetically, particularly 8MM’s use of a snuff film as a plot device.. Maybe if I thought they’d be any good, it might be another story, but I won’t be bothered to find out.
The same can be said for the last two entries, both purportedly documentaries. Executions is a real documentary, Faces of Death part stock footage, part faked. I’m not sure which is worse, but both seem too exploitative for words. I’ve heard arguments about Executions being a great argument against the death penalty, but I don’t know that you need to partake in it to be against it.
And finally, Mel Gibson’s Jesus movie, what was it? Oh yeah, The Passion of the Christ. Two hours of straight sadism and torture. Don’t want to see it, nope. My mother, a devout church lady, saw it with her church, can you imagine? My mother said everybody should see that film to know what Jesus went through for us. I can’t believe her church made her do that! She said she couldn’t sleep for weeks afterwards. But I’m not going to have that problem, because regardless of what my mother says, I’m not going to see it.
I can tell you what each of these movies have in common, besides my unwillingness to put myself through the wringer for the sake of entertainment: It is the portrayal of the prolonged suffering of others, first and foremost. Whether it’s the ultimate in exploitation, or done with the utmost respect, I still have trouble with it. Some might argue that it’s the elements of catharsis, or consciousness-raising, or “looking into the face of the abyss” – that kind of thing, that might justify viewing these films. Okay, maybe. But as Nietschze’s oft-used aphorism (popular especially in horror movies) points out, the abyss looks back… and when you battle monsters, you must take care not to become one yourself.
The Matrix Top Ten Movie List of Terror: movies I’m too terrified to watch!
Blindness (2008) – Fernando Meirelles
United 93 (2006) – Paul Greengrass
Polytechnique (2009) – Denis Villeneuve
Amityville Horror (1979) – Stuart Rosenberg
The Exorcist (1973) – William Friedkin
Henry, Portrait of a Serial Killer (1986) – John McNaughton
8 mm (1999) – Joel Schumacher
Faces of Death (1978) – John Alan Schwartz
Executions (1995) – David Herman, Arun Kumar, David Monaghan
The Passion of the Christ (2004) – Mel Gibson
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
We're back with Da Vinci!
Life has been koo-koo lately but now the days are clearing up and I can get back to my work, so here I am, filling up the days with distraction. Yes, I need to be editing my film! But I need to do so many things at once or else I just procrastinate and then get nothing done. Strange, how my brain works... but at least I know it.
So, here we are, writing about watching, making lists. We're starting season 6 of Da Vinci's Inquest tonight! Da Vinci's Inquest is probably the best Canadian television series of all time, and I hadn't watched any of it while it was still on. But after watching just one episode, I was hooked! Based loosely on real-life Vancouver Chief Coroner Larry Campbell, it ran seven seasons (1998-2005), then one season in 2005 as Da Vinci's City Hall (Campbell was elected Mayor in 2002) and a final TV movie, The Quality of Life. We mean to watch them all! Sure, it has its stylistic flaws, overused and overblown background music, crazy titles. But Nicholas Campbell (no relation to Larry, I assume!) is a cranky old treasure and more people should know about this series. It's starting syndication in the States now, and it's low-key, character-driven storylines are finding an audience with people who are tired of slick, formulaic shows like CSI. Da Vinci is often completely wrong, and cases are often never solved.
Occasionally we take breaks from it to watch something else, most recently, Wanted, starring Angelina Jolie and directed by Timur Bekmambetov. So absolutely preposterous, it's fun! Bekmambetov has a way of ramping up his unbelievable digital effects into the craziest action sequences, and though he has distractingly terrible music and ludicrous plot devices (The Loom of Doom!), it's clear that sheer craziness is the whole point.
And last week, Chris Marker's Sans Soleil - incredible that it's the first time I've seen it. An experimental essay-documentary about a man who travels, mainly through Japan and West Africa, writing letters about the things he photographs, the nature of memory, life on earth. It's beautiful, hypnotic, thought-provoking, incredible. Now one of my favourite films ever.
So, here we are, writing about watching, making lists. We're starting season 6 of Da Vinci's Inquest tonight! Da Vinci's Inquest is probably the best Canadian television series of all time, and I hadn't watched any of it while it was still on. But after watching just one episode, I was hooked! Based loosely on real-life Vancouver Chief Coroner Larry Campbell, it ran seven seasons (1998-2005), then one season in 2005 as Da Vinci's City Hall (Campbell was elected Mayor in 2002) and a final TV movie, The Quality of Life. We mean to watch them all! Sure, it has its stylistic flaws, overused and overblown background music, crazy titles. But Nicholas Campbell (no relation to Larry, I assume!) is a cranky old treasure and more people should know about this series. It's starting syndication in the States now, and it's low-key, character-driven storylines are finding an audience with people who are tired of slick, formulaic shows like CSI. Da Vinci is often completely wrong, and cases are often never solved.
Occasionally we take breaks from it to watch something else, most recently, Wanted, starring Angelina Jolie and directed by Timur Bekmambetov. So absolutely preposterous, it's fun! Bekmambetov has a way of ramping up his unbelievable digital effects into the craziest action sequences, and though he has distractingly terrible music and ludicrous plot devices (The Loom of Doom!), it's clear that sheer craziness is the whole point.
And last week, Chris Marker's Sans Soleil - incredible that it's the first time I've seen it. An experimental essay-documentary about a man who travels, mainly through Japan and West Africa, writing letters about the things he photographs, the nature of memory, life on earth. It's beautiful, hypnotic, thought-provoking, incredible. Now one of my favourite films ever.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
A Matrix of Anxieties
One of the best pieces of advice ever given was in The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy: Don't panic! And it’s true, it's never useful to panic. Sure, everything has the potential to induce anxiety: normal social etiquettes, self-doubt, the daily news full of catastrophe and fear-mongering about the economy, war, toxins in our food -- just plain living. And nothing I do seems to affect change. But panic doesn't help. It fogs the brain. Stay calm, breathe deeply. There is hope, although it’s this that makes me even more anxious. Dare I hope, lest I be gravely disappointed once again? The emotional swing of hope and fear duelling daily has made cynics of us all. Nonetheless, one deals however one can: pharmaceutically for the mental-disorder variety of anxiety; meditatively for those inclined to sitting still; cinematically for the rest of us.
Movies have charms to soothe the anxious beast. Escapism: to lose oneself in the pleasures of narrative and forget about the world. Is cinema part of the monster spectacle that connives to keep us apathetic and narcotised (opiated!), or can it also poke, prod, and enrage us into action? Well, there's something for everyone. When it comes to the movies, anxiety as a theme is, like life, sprawling and unwieldy, encompassing everything.
There is, most often in American films it seems, anxiety as a comedic and neurotic state, such as in most Woody Allen films. It’s Allen that first comes to mind for me, as he pretty well defined the sub-genre of movies about Anxious New York Jews, which often overlaps with the sub-genre Anxious New York Writers. Any list of films about anxiety would naturally include writers as subjects, since they seem to be among the most anxious of people, or at least the ones most public about their own phobias, their psyches and their analyses. So, we have the Coen Brothers’ dark comedy Barton Fink, and the Spike Jonze-directed, Charlie Kaufman-penned, brilliantly self-referential Adaptation (not to mention Charlie Kaufman’s directorial debut, Synecdoche, New York). I could probably think of ten great movies in this genre alone.
But, there are so many other varieties of anxiety! David Cronenberg’s unique brand of horror has an underlying element of anxiety based on fear of the body/technology and the possibility of malfunction. David Lynch explores a similar anxiety, though more existential, surreal, and ominous in nature, especially with Blue Velvet and Lost Highway. And some of the well-defined genres of Asian horror (for instance, Hideo Nakata’s Ringu – don’t even talk to me about inferior Hollywood remakes) excel in exuding a thick atmosphere of anxious and chronic dread. Then there are those films that inspire anxiety because of their realistic docu-drama aesthetic and extremely harrowing plots involving ordinary people. These can be unpleasant to the point of agony to watch, since, unlike horror films, there is not the same distancing effect that allows you to mark them as fiction. I could barely stand watching Alejandro González Iñárritu’s Babel, for instance, which made me question why I was putting myself through torment. Was there a sense of catharsis in suffering so graphically with the characters? Was it simply gratuitous exploitative spectacle disguised as art? I can’t decide. Babel was released in 2006, with a barrage of similarly tense though more fantastical films like Alfonso Cuarón’s Children of Men. The cinematic mood back then looked unbearably bleak. But even in the darkest of times, there is always humour. So who better to conclude the list of anxiety movies with than the Master of Wry Suspense? Alfred Hitchcock’s Vertigo, with its emblematic and technically brilliant zoom shot through a staircase, induces a delicious thrilling anxiety that is movie-watching pleasure at its finest. But oops, speaking of Hitchcock! Mel Brook's High Anxiety, an appropriation of over ten Hitchcock flicks including Vertigo, Psycho, and The Birds, brings anxiety full circle to outright spoof, satire, slapstick. Laughter, as they say, is the best medicine, so maybe the Americans got it right there. And now, as America is about to swear in a new president, it seems that hope is back, again fighting daily with fear and anxiety. Good luck and Godspeed to each of us.
And so, the final list:
The Matrix Top Ten Anxiety Movies!
Deconstructing Harry (1997) – Woody Allen
Barton Fink (1991) – The Coen Brothers
Adaptation (2002) – Spike Jonze (written by Charlie Kaufman)
Dead Ringers (1988) – David Cronenberg
Lost Highway (1997) – David Lynch
Ringu (1998) – Hideo Nakata
Babel (2006) – Alejandro González Iñárritu
Children of Men (2006) – Alfonso Cuarón
Vertigo (1958) – Alfred Hitchcock
High Anxiety (1978) – Mel Brooks
Movies have charms to soothe the anxious beast. Escapism: to lose oneself in the pleasures of narrative and forget about the world. Is cinema part of the monster spectacle that connives to keep us apathetic and narcotised (opiated!), or can it also poke, prod, and enrage us into action? Well, there's something for everyone. When it comes to the movies, anxiety as a theme is, like life, sprawling and unwieldy, encompassing everything.
There is, most often in American films it seems, anxiety as a comedic and neurotic state, such as in most Woody Allen films. It’s Allen that first comes to mind for me, as he pretty well defined the sub-genre of movies about Anxious New York Jews, which often overlaps with the sub-genre Anxious New York Writers. Any list of films about anxiety would naturally include writers as subjects, since they seem to be among the most anxious of people, or at least the ones most public about their own phobias, their psyches and their analyses. So, we have the Coen Brothers’ dark comedy Barton Fink, and the Spike Jonze-directed, Charlie Kaufman-penned, brilliantly self-referential Adaptation (not to mention Charlie Kaufman’s directorial debut, Synecdoche, New York). I could probably think of ten great movies in this genre alone.
But, there are so many other varieties of anxiety! David Cronenberg’s unique brand of horror has an underlying element of anxiety based on fear of the body/technology and the possibility of malfunction. David Lynch explores a similar anxiety, though more existential, surreal, and ominous in nature, especially with Blue Velvet and Lost Highway. And some of the well-defined genres of Asian horror (for instance, Hideo Nakata’s Ringu – don’t even talk to me about inferior Hollywood remakes) excel in exuding a thick atmosphere of anxious and chronic dread. Then there are those films that inspire anxiety because of their realistic docu-drama aesthetic and extremely harrowing plots involving ordinary people. These can be unpleasant to the point of agony to watch, since, unlike horror films, there is not the same distancing effect that allows you to mark them as fiction. I could barely stand watching Alejandro González Iñárritu’s Babel, for instance, which made me question why I was putting myself through torment. Was there a sense of catharsis in suffering so graphically with the characters? Was it simply gratuitous exploitative spectacle disguised as art? I can’t decide. Babel was released in 2006, with a barrage of similarly tense though more fantastical films like Alfonso Cuarón’s Children of Men. The cinematic mood back then looked unbearably bleak. But even in the darkest of times, there is always humour. So who better to conclude the list of anxiety movies with than the Master of Wry Suspense? Alfred Hitchcock’s Vertigo, with its emblematic and technically brilliant zoom shot through a staircase, induces a delicious thrilling anxiety that is movie-watching pleasure at its finest. But oops, speaking of Hitchcock! Mel Brook's High Anxiety, an appropriation of over ten Hitchcock flicks including Vertigo, Psycho, and The Birds, brings anxiety full circle to outright spoof, satire, slapstick. Laughter, as they say, is the best medicine, so maybe the Americans got it right there. And now, as America is about to swear in a new president, it seems that hope is back, again fighting daily with fear and anxiety. Good luck and Godspeed to each of us.
And so, the final list:
The Matrix Top Ten Anxiety Movies!
Deconstructing Harry (1997) – Woody Allen
Barton Fink (1991) – The Coen Brothers
Adaptation (2002) – Spike Jonze (written by Charlie Kaufman)
Dead Ringers (1988) – David Cronenberg
Lost Highway (1997) – David Lynch
Ringu (1998) – Hideo Nakata
Babel (2006) – Alejandro González Iñárritu
Children of Men (2006) – Alfonso Cuarón
Vertigo (1958) – Alfred Hitchcock
High Anxiety (1978) – Mel Brooks
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