Thanks A Movie

HOW KORE-EDA HUMBLES A FANTASY TO NATURALISM IN 'AFTER LIFE' ? What really got me about this film is how Kore-Eda tricks us with its premise. “Afterlife” as a title already pulls you into this big fantasy space, and you expect something surreal. But Kore-eda does the exact opposite through the narrative. He grounds it so deeply in a documentary style that the fantasy almost disappears. For example, those interview scenes with the deceased. The way they ask the dead to choose a single memory from their life won’t be like some grand, philosophical interrogation, but very casual. And the answers? Not dramatic, not life-defining. Those will be the small but heartwarming things like a good meal, a childhood memory, etc.. And then there’s the world-building. Instead of presenting the afterlife as something otherworldly, Kore-eda frames it like a mundane institutional space, almost like a government office. Desks, files, people sitting across from each other, talking. There’s even a system of days, Monday to Wednesday memory selection, Friday shoots, Saturday screenings, by anchoring it in institutional rhythms and everyday routines, the film quietly dissolves its own fantasy. Picture via: L.A. Times

MABOROSI (1995); dir: Hirokazu Kore-eda! 'Maborosi', it’s crazy to think this was Kore-eda’s debut feature. It feels so mature and quiet, but man, it’s heavy. I went into it expecting a typical drama about grief, but it’s so much more true to life than that. From the very start, with Yumiko’s grandmother walking away and never coming back, and the place where her husband, Ikuo, just walks away with a smile, looking completely fine, only to never come home, there’s this lingering sense of dread that follows her and us, the audience the whole time. What’s wild is how the movie pulls off this intense feeling without ever being melodramatic. It’s all in the silence and the ordinary, lived-in details. Kore-eda just trusts us to feel it without giving a solid verbal confrontation. I kept thinking about the title, Maborosi (phantasmic light). It’s such a haunting metaphor for how we try to understand why people leave. By the end, I didn’t feel closure, because that’s not what this movie is about. It’s more about accepting that some things are unanswerable. See replies for film readings: 🧵

MABOROSI (1995); dir: Hirokazu Kore-eda! 'Maborosi', it’s crazy to think this was Kore-eda’s debut feature. It feels so mature and quiet, but man, it’s heavy. I went into it expecting a typical drama about grief, but it’s so much more true to life than that. From the very start, with Yumiko’s grandmother walking away and never coming back, and the place where her husband, Ikuo, just walks away with a smile, looking completely fine, only to never come home, there’s this lingering sense of dread that follows her and us, the audience the whole time. What’s wild is how the movie pulls off this intense feeling without ever being melodramatic. It’s all in the silence and the ordinary, lived-in details. Kore-eda just trusts us to feel it without giving a solid verbal confrontation. I kept thinking about the title, Maborosi (phantasmic light). It’s such a haunting metaphor for how we try to understand why people leave. By the end, I didn’t feel closure, because that’s not what this movie is about. It’s more about accepting that some things are unanswerable. See replies for film readings: 🧵

EO, dir: Jerzy Skolimowski! In 1966, Robert Bresson gave us ‘Au Hasard Balthazar’, a film where a donkey walked through human life like a mirror reflecting all our sins and small kindnesses. Decades later comes ‘EO’, a film that takes that old path but turns it into a maze lit with neon, broken glass, and dreamlike sparks. Bresson’s world felt calm, almost like a prayer whispered in a church. EO’s world feels more like a carnival that got lost in the forest a place where football stadium lights roar like monsters, red filters turn the screen into fire, and the donkey’s eyes see fragments of human madness. The story no longer flows in a neat line. It jumps, it cuts, it bends. One moment EO walks through the circus with love from the audience, the next moment he drifts into forests, slaughterhouses, or mansions like a ghost. Where Bresson kept things pure and simple, Skolimowski loads the screen with color, sound, and dizzy movement. The result is not just a retelling but a surreal remix, a dream that sometimes feels gentle, sometimes feels cruel, but always feels alive. ‘EO’ may be inspired by Bresson’s donkey, but he wanders in a much stranger landscape one that turns suffering into a riddle and innocence into a kind of poetry. 🧵:

THE WONDERFUL STORY OF HENRY SUGAR, dir: Wes Anderson! Imagine ‘Seeing without eyes’ and it feels like the pitch for a new Marvel Superhero story, but here it’s way deeper than just some flashy stunt. Imdad Khan out here not doing any circus tricks rather he’s literally showing what happens when you train your mind through yoga and insane focus. It’s that inner vision, that next-level clarity, where you stop depending on the outside world and start seeing truth from the inside out. Basically enlightenment unlocked. Now here’s where it gets kinda funny (and also messy): the whole story comes filtered through this British doctor, who treats Khan’s ability like he just discovered a shiny Pokémon or something. He writes about it like a scientific curiosity ‘look at this strange Indian mystic who can see without eyes!’ Also, there is a weird clash of vibes on one hand, a beautiful lesson about focus, spirituality, and inner growth. On the other, the colonial gaze turning it into a sideshow act. And maybe that’s the real irony: what the West saw as ‘mystical trickery’ was, for the East, just another pathway to wisdom.”

“YI YI” (2000) BY EDWARD YANG IS THE "COMPLETE" CINEMA! Almost all films extend beyond their lead, exploring supporting characters and their arcs. However, Yi Yi, makes a fundamental benchmark: supporting characters are not secondary but essential, forming a complex, interconnected tapestry of modern life where no emotional thread is ignored. Edward Yang removes the idea of a singular protagonist altogether; instead of following one arc, we witness an entire collective, where every character holds weight, pushing character exploration far beyond conventional storytelling. With so many characters, the film constantly shifts our perspective. And this feeling doesn’t come just from the writing or the dialogues by Edward Yang, it comes from how the film lets us observe. Mainly by how the film is shot, framing moments through doorways, windows, and reflections. That’s what makes Yi Yi so rare, it makes you wonder how writing can even reach this level, how a film can hold so much without ever feeling overwhelming. See the replies for readings: 🧵

Post your favorite first-watches of April 🍿

Favorite first watches of April Samurai Rebellion (1967) Hobson's Choice (1954) Senso (1954) Léon Morin, Priest (1961)

THE WONDERFUL STORY OF HENRY SUGAR, dir: Wes Anderson! Imagine ‘Seeing without eyes’ and it feels like the pitch for a new Marvel Superhero story, but here it’s way deeper than just some flashy stunt. Imdad Khan out here not doing any circus tricks rather he’s literally showing what happens when you train your mind through yoga and insane focus. It’s that inner vision, that next-level clarity, where you stop depending on the outside world and start seeing truth from the inside out. Basically enlightenment unlocked. Now here’s where it gets kinda funny (and also messy): the whole story comes filtered through this British doctor, who treats Khan’s ability like he just discovered a shiny Pokémon or something. He writes about it like a scientific curiosity ‘look at this strange Indian mystic who can see without eyes!’ Also, there is a weird clash of vibes on one hand, a beautiful lesson about focus, spirituality, and inner growth. On the other, the colonial gaze turning it into a sideshow act. And maybe that’s the real irony: what the West saw as ‘mystical trickery’ was, for the East, just another pathway to wisdom.”

LOVE IN CHUNGKING EXPRESS - WHERE EXPIRY DATES ARE PERSONAL, AND RUNWAYS ARE CLEARED FOR NEXT FLIGHTS !! At this point, after watching three films by Wong Kar-wai, I began to understand that his language of love is far more diverse than conventional. It’s not just affection. It’s waiting disguised as false hope for an impossible dream. It’s a memory oscillating between being ditched and being taken to the grave. It’s far more complex than the idea that love lasts forever. In Chungking Express, love takes two shapes. One is about putting an end to longing, and the other is about making way for something new. But it isn’t sad, it’s funny, weird, and refreshing. The common point in both stories is not how they end, but how long it takes to end, and what it takes to finally let go.

MONSTER, dir: Hirokazu Kore-eda! I'm kinda spoiling the film for you, or maybe not, if you’re opinionated and look at things on a black and white scale, this film tells you, you're colorblind, and sometimes things are grey, you know! So, the film gives us easy answers to it and holds up a lens to the world we’ve built, where misunderstanding grows faster than the compassion, and where the line between victim and villain is never as clear as we want it to be. Details on the film 'Monster', and what it’s really trying to say.. 🧵

the category is…. favourite film debut performances from this decade!