![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Crazy Love
no transcription; i settled into my seat, pulled out a sandwich, and![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
varina8 hailed me. we caught up until the movie started, and hopefully we will cross paths again.
(i went to this one because i decided to save Paprika to watch with C during the festival. i'm guessing that the story will be incomprehensible, but i want to see that animation on a big screen.)
the film follows the true story of Burt Pugach and Linda Riss, from the 1950s to the present. being too young and not a resident of the NY metro area for any of the significant dates in the story, it was all news to me and sometimes had me on the edge of my seat. the film cuts talking heads with photos, home movies, and news archives. there is no narrator, and we are often allowed to read the newspaper clippings for ourselves.
i delighted in the sounds of voices from the Bronx. i reveled in the glorious trashiness of elderly women with salon tans, frosted makeup, rhinestones, and looooong cigarettes. (much like my college friends' grandmothers. or my aunts.) all the black and white snapshots reminded me of hours spent sitting with my grandparents telling stories as we went through the "photo drawer". it's a window into a time and place. (even today, with the unironic clown figurine in an apartment and a trip to a real East Coast diner *snif*.)
the documentary documents, and rarely makes obvious judgments. we listen to people tell their story, and we make our own decisions. it's slow to get rolling, but the front-loading of information lets the second half clip along without having to backfill details. it's compelling watching- at turns sad, repulsive, and funny.
4 out of 5, recommended as long as you enjoy a little schadenfreude.
no transcription; i settled into my seat, pulled out a sandwich, and
varina8 hailed me. we caught up until the movie started, and hopefully we will cross paths again.(i went to this one because i decided to save Paprika to watch with C during the festival. i'm guessing that the story will be incomprehensible, but i want to see that animation on a big screen.)
the film follows the true story of Burt Pugach and Linda Riss, from the 1950s to the present. being too young and not a resident of the NY metro area for any of the significant dates in the story, it was all news to me and sometimes had me on the edge of my seat. the film cuts talking heads with photos, home movies, and news archives. there is no narrator, and we are often allowed to read the newspaper clippings for ourselves.
i delighted in the sounds of voices from the Bronx. i reveled in the glorious trashiness of elderly women with salon tans, frosted makeup, rhinestones, and looooong cigarettes. (much like my college friends' grandmothers. or my aunts.) all the black and white snapshots reminded me of hours spent sitting with my grandparents telling stories as we went through the "photo drawer". it's a window into a time and place. (even today, with the unironic clown figurine in an apartment and a trip to a real East Coast diner *snif*.)
the documentary documents, and rarely makes obvious judgments. we listen to people tell their story, and we make our own decisions. it's slow to get rolling, but the front-loading of information lets the second half clip along without having to backfill details. it's compelling watching- at turns sad, repulsive, and funny.
4 out of 5, recommended as long as you enjoy a little schadenfreude.
