How had I never seen... "Doctor Zhivago"?

Every once in a while we ask Team Experience members to finally get around to a famous film they've been meaning to watch forever. Here's Christopher James...

I hate to say it, but when does one put on a three hour epic? The time never quite seems right, especially in a pre-quarantine world. That’s why David Lean’s epic extravaganzas had long been blind spots in my filmography. Both The Bridge on the River Kwai and Lawrence of Arabia become instant personal favorites after finally watching them for the first time in the past five years. Yet, somehow Doctor Zhivago (1965) always seemed just a bridge, or perilous train ride, too far. When I would think of it, I would picture the sets and costumes from stills. But was it worth sitting through over three hours of a movie just for, in the words of Aretha Franklin, “gowns, beautiful gowns”? Luckily, the epic is way more than just its trappings. As Team Experience gushed a few years back, there are so many memorable scenes and subplots in this involving romantic quartet.

To compliment Doctor Zhivago appropriately, one must go down each Oscar craft category one by one. It’s a technically stunning achievement that is beautiful, towering and simultaneously warm and cold all in the same breath...

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How Had I Never Seen... "Candyman"?

by Cláudio Alves

The Nia DaCosta-directed, Jordan Peele-produced, Candyman is scheduled to arrive in American theaters later this year. In the meantime, the original Candyman, a 1992 horror classic freely adapted from Clive Barker's The Forbidden, is newly streaming on Netflix. With all that in mind, this seemed like a great time to finally watch that acclaimed nightmare of 90s cinema, a picture I've long heard about and have considered one of my great blind spots as a fan of horror movies.

Despite astronomically high expectations, Candyman did not disappoint…

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How Had I Never Seen..."Hard Eight"?

by Cláudio Alves

Paul Thomas Anderson turns 50 today, making this a good time to remember how his film career began. Weirdly enough, despite being a longtime fan of the director, I had never seen his first feature, a little indie by the name of Hard Eight, which hit Sundance and Cannes in 1996 but would only get a commercial release the next year. That made 1997 quite the occasion for Anderson. In February, he opened Hard Eight to good reviews and, in October, Boogie Nights made him one of the most critically acclaimed directors of the moment. The latter movie went on to conquer him his first Academy Award nomination, for Best Original Screenplay. What's fascinating and what most surprised me about the pair is how distinct they are, showing two very different sides of their director's craft…

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How Had I Never Seen... "But I'm a Cheerleader"?

by Cláudio Alves

To celebrate Pride Month, the Criterion Channel has chosen to highlight several works of queer cinema as well as various films featuring LGBTQIA+ characters. The selection is varied, spanning from Ettore Scola's Oscar-nominated A Special Day to the avant-garde work of Chantal Akerman and Cheryl Dunne. It's not all high-brow artistry -- there's space for kitschy entertainment, too. Such is the case of 1999's But I'm a Cheerleader directed by Jamie Babbit, a cult classic looking at gay conversion therapy through the prism of outrageous farcical humor. It's a movie I had never watched before, making it a great subject for this particular series…

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How Had I Never Seen..."Xanadu"?

by Cláudio Alves

In these stressful days, it can be nice to sit back and lose ourselves in the escapist marvels of cinema. Of course, what constitutes escapism varies from person to person. Some love the bloodlust of gory pictures while others revel in good midcentury melodrama. Whatever your poison of choice is, now seems like a good time to indulge. For me, one surefire way of dispelling the doom and gloom of day-to-day life is to bathe in the glamour of movie musicals. Other prime sources of stress-relief are those movies which are so terrible, so unbelievably miscalculated, that their turpitude becomes entertaining. The logical conclusion is that there's no greater joy than watching a movie musical that's so bad it's good.

Well, that's precisely what I did one monotonous afternoon, trading in the frustrations of reality for the disco disaster fabulousness of Xanadu…

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