Oh, kid, I do believe that our dreams are wrong
Inception (2010) is an incredibly intelligent film. I loved its play with genres, with film and surrealism, with ghosts, and I loved the one sequence straight out of Cocteau's Orphée (1949).
I am never seeing another film at a Jordan's IMAX.
I am never seeing another film at a Jordan's IMAX.
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Sounds as if the IMAX experience was bad--I'm sorry to hear of that.
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It was one of the more physically excruciating experiences I have ever volunteered myself for; I did not know it would be. (The Omni Theater at the Museum of Science? I get along fine with that! This . . . was not the same sort of thing.) Fortunately, the world of film is not limited to Jordan's Furniture.
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Welcome!
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I think its story is a heist film with flickers of film noir, down to the one last job and the mysterious past that threatens everyone, but I think it's about something quite different. Which I loved.
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There were actually several moments in Inception which made me think of Orphée, like Ariadne's manipulation of mirrors the first time she dreams with Cobb, but the real shout-out is the sequence with Arthur in the hotel as the laws of gravity suddenly cease to apply. You'll recognize its original when you see it.
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It's interesting to see strong chunks of DNA from Memento, The Prestige, and the two Batman movies in this one.
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If you called a band the Hypnic Jerks now, people would get it.
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How so? I agree that Mal's totem is integral to the story, but I'm not sure I would have called that one gesture its emotional heart; and I did not feel that the film collapsed there or elsewhere.
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As with every Nolan film, it becomes much more emotional once you understand (or, in this case, think you understand) what is going on. Dom Cobb's plight may be completely not what we think it is, and that adds much poignancy.
It just occurs to me now that there are strong thematic similarities to Engine Summer, but the latter is about the deep purpose of narrative art while this is more about its limitations, about the gap between narrative art and reality and the ultimate insularity of the narrative artist. But it really is ferociously brilliant about that.