Tag: great movies

Hoop Dreams


Hoop Dreams (1994)
★★★★ / ★★★★

William Gates, from the Cabrini-Green Public Housing Project, and Arthur Agee, from West Garfield Park, both only fourteen years of age, are scouted by Earl Smith to attend St. Joseph High School, a place that many consider is able to foster the talents of its basketball players and thereby giving children a chance to make something of themselves. “Hoop Dreams,” directed by Steve James, follows William and Arthur from being fourteen-year-old dreamers with raw talent till they leave home to attend university.

Not all of us may have come from bad neighborhoods where violence, drugs, and death are commonplace and yet we are able to relate one way or another to the picture’s subjects because we all have or have had dreams big and small. While a few will achieve or have achieved it, most of us will not or did not. This is how you know there is a William and Arthur in all of us: When the ball is released from their hands and it is up in the air, we hold our breaths just a little and hope the ball makes it in the hoop. A ball in free throw is a great metaphor for a dream: We have control of it for a while but on its way to the hoop, many factors can change its course and prevent it from going in altogether.

Or a teammate might lend a hand to get that ball in. The documentary is also about the people who try to get Arthur and William to go where they want to be. Arthur’s mother is especially memorable because for some time she has found a way to raise her three children for less than three hundred dollars a month after having been fired from her job. When her son is running around the court, it is most obvious that she is his number one fan and I was very moved because it was like seeing my mother rooting for me.

The picture could not have been scripted any better. An image that will be ingrained in my memory is the moment when Bo paid his son a short visit at the neighborhood basketball court. They had not seen each other in a while because his parents had a separation. Arthur noticed his father walking off the court eventually to buy drugs just a few feet away. No word is needed to convey the disappointment Arthur felt. Some may say that it should have been the father setting an example for his son. But in a way he is: Arthur is observing and learning what not to do in his future.

One of William’s challenges was his bad knee. Only a freshman in high school, universities already had their eyes on him. But it all came crashing down when he was injured and for a while it seemed like that was it for him. His injury would heal but the real question was whether he could perform at the same level, or better, once he recovered.

Meanwhile, the film brings up the question of whether or not it is healthy to recruit someone—sometimes as young as age twelve—to play basketball. There are no easy answers. On one hand, education is important and should take precedence. On the other hand, some people are more interested in sports than school and if they happened to be living in a bad neighborhood, it just might be a golden ticket to get out and redirect their lives completely.

I admired that the picture shows what is and does not intend to make judgments. It shows the faults in the system when it comes to the poor. It shows the faults in parenting. It shows the faults in the mindsets of William and Arthur as young athletes with wonderful potential. But it also shows people, like Patricia Weir, who are willing to help. It shows guidance counselors who are willing to be direct about the importance of grades and standardized exams. It shows family being encouraging even when the chips are down. It shows that there is always a surprise around the corner. It is a film that is real but ultimately optimistic.

“Hoop Dreams” is not about basketball. It is about how basketball can serve as a metaphor for life. Because if you’re not willing to place your feet on the court, put in the hard work, be a team player, take risks once in a while, and play the game to the best of your abilities, you might as well be sitting on the bench and watching everyone else taking a shot.

Million Dollar Baby


Million Dollar Baby (2004)
★★★★ / ★★★★

Frankie Dunn (Clint Eastwood), a boxing trainer, swore he would never train a girl. But after his main boxer left for a manager who could book him to have a shot at a title, Frankie just might change his mind. Scrap (Morgan Freeman), Frankie’s longtime friend and partner in running the gym, insisted that Frankie should take a second look at the determined Maggie (Hilary Swank). Despite his initial reluctance, Frankie decided to train her. In a way, he saw it as a chance to forgive himself for the decision he made many years ago that led to Scrap losing half his sight. Written by Paul Haggis and directed by Clint Eastwood, “Million Dollar Baby” was a moving story about people who used their body as instruments. I was impressed with its clear vision of what it wanted to tell us about each character and at what point they were in their lives. Maggie was a nobody, just a waitress who took home her customers’ uneaten food, but she turned into a rising star in a matter of months. She craved to be in the ring. She was proud of every beating–if her opponents were lucky enough to land a punch. On the other hand, Scrap had accepted that his turn in the ring was over. He felt the need to pass on his knowledge in regards to both the techniques in boxing and the business side of the dangerous career. Meanwhile, Frankie was somewhere in between. Not really knowing his place hardened him. He couldn’t quite let go of the mistakes he made and he was almost blind to how he made others’ lives better. Perhaps it had something to do with the daughter who wouldn’t communicate with him. The three were connected by their passion for the sport and their own definitions about what it meant to be a true fighter. The actors’ performances were equally strong which elevated an already sublime screenplay. Swank was a natural. I was astounded by her ability to make determination look glamorous and ugliness almost effortless. Freeman had quieter moments but he made each scene he was given memorable. I especially enjoyed the way he balanced his character’s playfulness and solemnity, never settling in being predictable. As for Eastwood, with that soft but ferocious growl, I believed his character’s life being all about boxing. However, one small problem I had with the film was its occasional use of music. I noticed it especially when the movie would cut to scenes of Maggie being a waitress. Cue the sad melody, a sign that we should feel sorry for her. I didn’t need the music for me to realize that she had to work extremely hard to scrape by. I could see it in her eyes and the way she held her pride when she felt like someone was doing her a favor. “Million Dollar Baby” was fearless in reaching into the souls of its characters. As a testament to the film’s power, we eventually find ourselves needing to reach for the box of tissues. Indeed, the events toward the end were sad but it was more than that. I think it’s a wise reminder that even the most ordinary can have the potential to have magic in them.

All the President’s Men


All the President’s Men (1976)
★★★★ / ★★★★

Five lawyers, who worked for Richard Nixon, were caught breaking and entering in an apartment complex to plant materials that would ultimately discredit their Democratic rivals. Two Washington Post journalists, Bob Woodward (Robert Redford) and Carl Bernstein (Dustin Hoffman), were assigned to the case but they didn’t expect the trail to the truth to be so deeply embedded in conspiracy. Directed by Alan J. Pakula, “All the President’s Men” was engrossing in every way. Like all great films I admire, the magic was in the small details. First, its realism was highlighted due to its lack of score. The clacking of busy typewriters and electric dialogue were the only music available to our ears. “Source” was perhaps the most common and critical word thrown around but it was the most elusive capture. At some point we wonder, to our exasperation, how many sources Ben Bradlee, the newspaper’s executive editor, needed to run the story that would potentially open Pandora’s Box. Second, the partnership between Redford and Hoffman’s characters were constantly on the forefront. Many potential sources led to dead ends but the duo had unwavering passion and integrity for their work. We may not know who they were outside of their jobs but we didn’t need to because their careers consumed their lives. Woodward and Berstein started off as strangers who happened to work on the same floor. The awkward tension was underlined in the way the camera captured their interactions. During their first few conversations, I couldn’t help but notice that there was always something between them such as a desk or a cubicle divider, particularly when they disagreed on how to approach the research necessary for their article. When one spoke, one character was in one frame. Throughout the picture, such techniques were less numerous because they learned to work together efficiently. The physical distance between the two men decreased, their conversation took place in one frame, and, in the final few shots, they shared the same work space. Lastly, I found Hal Holbrook’s performance as Deep Throat, Woodward’s main source who had strong ties with the most powerful men in the nation, to be quite astonishing. It’s a rarity that I’m impressed by a man covered in shadow for the entire time he’s on screen. Audiences who are not particularly interested in history shouldn’t feel that they would be confused because they are not familiar with the Watergate scandal. “All the President’s Men” worked as a smart and suspenseful political thriller. Despite its subject matter, it should be admired for its bold decisions. My favorite scene was a five-to-ten-minute sequence of laser-like focus involving Woodward trying to track down a man named Kenneth Dahlberg using a telephone. It looked simple but that was its brilliance. A less skilled direction could have made the investigation dry and utterly uninvolving.

Annie Hall


Annie Hall (1977)
★★★★ / ★★★★

“Annie Hall,” written, directed and starring Woody Allen, is considered one of the best romantic comedies in film history even though the couple did not end up together in the end. Alvy (Allen) wanted to determine what went wrong in his relationship with Annie (Diane Keaton) so we were taken back in time and given the chance to observe the major and minor events in their journey. The film was undoubtedly quirky but its intelligence and insight about how it was like to be in a relationship was what took this film from greatness to being a pop icon classic. My favorite scenes were when Allen decided to use elements that could have disrupted the narrative. For instance, I had loads of fun with the split-screen when the director wanted to compare Annie’s WASP family to Alvy’s Jewish family during a meal. The former was reserved, everyone masticated with their mouths closed, and had perfect posture at the table. On the other hand, the latter, like my family, consisted of many overlapping voices, gossip became a source of entertainment, and all sorts of etiquette was thrown out the window. Allen’s willingness to take risks showed me that he was confident about his project and that’s a key ingredient to make a successful picture. I also admired the film’s many references to pop culture and literature and the energy that drove them forward. I did not live in the 70s nor do I read a lot of classic novels. I did understand more than half the jokes but when I did not, I did not feel dumb or left out. That was when the energy became essential because there were about ten jokes in under a minute so I didn’t have a chance to linger on the fact that I did not “get” something. Furthermore, I loved that the director injected various types of comedy in the material. Some of the comedy were slapstick (the lobster scene), anecdotes (when Alvy vividly described his childhood experiences), blunders (a Freudian slip by Annie), and even some repartee between the two leads in the bedroom and the issue of sex and gender roles were put under the spotlight. Alvy and Annie could have easily been caricatures in less capable direction. Instead, the protagonists had great depth. They surprised us because of the inconsistencies in their beliefs and actions, they kept us watching because they spoke of and did things we, one way or another, had thought of and done, and they moved us because it was like watching two good friends deciding to go their separate ways. Clever in its approach in which irony penetrated every scene, “Annie Hall” was not simply as ode to romance but also an absolute love for creative and inspired filmmaking.

E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial


E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial (1982)
★★★★ / ★★★★

A group of aliens visited Earth to get some plant samples, but they were interrupted by humans whose mission was to record extra-terrestrial life. One alien failed to make it back to the ship. On the night Elliot (Henry Thomas) went to pick up pizza from the delivery man, he heard a noise in the shed. Elliot threw a ball inside. Something threw the ball back to him. Elliot was a lonely kid. He recognized the creature as harmless and they became friends. Written by Melissa Mathison and directed by Steven Spielberg, “E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial” was a prime example of the power movies can have across generations. It appealed to children because the alien was cute and cuddly. The scenes of E.T. exploring the family’s home, held together by a recently divorced matriarch (Dee Wallace), was comic genius. Those of us whose parents allowed us to stay home alone could relate to E.T. as he explored the refrigerator and made a complete mess of the kitchen. Furthermore, no one could resist releasing burst of laughter when Gertie (Drew Barrymore), Elliot’s precocious younger sister, dressed up E.T. as a girl. As for adults, it was a genuinely heartwarming film. The connection between Elliot and E.T. was fully explored so being emotionally invested was effortless. Symbolisms, notably the flower, were present but they were never manipulative nor did they take the focus away from the boy and his pet alien. But what I admired most, and the reason why Spielberg is one of my favorite directors, was in the way Spielberg carefully controlled his scenes. Notice when the family was having dinner and the conversation started in a light-hearted way. The topic was what they should be for Halloween. After several lines of funny dialogue, Elliot started to get annoyed by his older brother (Robert MacNaughton) because he insisted that what Elliot saw in the shed was just a goblin or a coyote. However, Elliot’s frustration was directed to the unsuspecting mother, the easier target, someone physically closest to him on the table. The painful subject of their father being with another woman in Mexico suddenly came up. The progression from funny to annoyance to hurt was masterful. We learned about the subtle intricacies of the characters by simply observing how they reacted to the flow of conversations. A similar technique was used toward the end, involving a freezer, but the emotions were entirely different: From sadness, surprise, to utter joy. I also admired the way the director ended the film as our protagonist looked into the sky full of hope, wonder, and maturity. Right when I yelled, “Cut!” in my head, the picture faded to black. An unparalled story about the universality of friendship, “E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial” doesn’t seem to age. That’s because the lessons it had to impart about empathy, love, friendship, and family define us as a species.

Gattaca


Gattaca (1997)
★★★★ / ★★★★

“Gattaca” took place in a time where designer babies were the norm (known as “Valids”) and were expected to live nothing short of their potential. Vincent Freeman (Ethan Hawke) was a special case because even though he was not genetically engineered, he found a way to pass as one with the help of a recently crippled Valid named Jerome Eugene Morrow (Jude Law). Vincent claimed Jerome’s identity so he could work for Gattaca and reach his dreams of exploring outer space. Meanwhile, a murder in the company led the cops (Loren Dean, Alan Arkin) to find Vincent because of an eyelash they found in the scene of the crime. Vincent, as Jerome, had to evade the authorities and balance his time with a co-worker (Uma Thurman) he fell in love with. I watched this movie for the first time when I was a freshman in high school Biology. I remember generally liking it but I did not love it because I was basically forced to sit down and watch it. Having grown up a bit and given it a second chance, I immediately fell in love with the film because the main character had so much conviction. I looked in his eyes and I saw pain–pain for not being conceived as “perfect” and for not being loved as much as his brother. I related to him because he felt like he had so much to prove to the point where it almost destroyed him. The picture could have been a typical science fiction project–too cerebral for its own good and almost insular in its approach. However, “Gattaca” was really more about the emotional struggle of a character so brought down by society (even his father told him the closest he would get to reaching his dreams was to become a custodian for Gattaca) that he would do asolutely anything to prove them wrong. One of the many things I loved about the movie was it boldly took its argument regarding nature versus nurture in relation to being successful a step further. It also was able to comment on the role of the kindness of other people and the right timing of events that could help to pave a new path for a person with a specific circumstance. I thought it was a powerful contrast against things that were very controlled such as aformentioned genetically engineered babies where parents could pick the physical attributes of their future child. If I were to nitpick on a weakness, there were times when the romance between Hawke and Thurman became borderline cheesy with the two of them giving each other a piece of their own hair as a test to determine if they trusted each other. Neverthless, those scenes were negated by a consistently beautiful cinematography with its use of color indoors and outdoors. “Gattaca,” written and directed by Andrew Niccol, is not only one of the most astute science fiction films but also one of the most moving. The film is set in the future and the issues are more relevant than ever but it’s quite timeless.

Vitus


Vitus (2006)
★★★★ / ★★★★

Directed by Fredi M. Murer, “Vitus” tells the story of a boy (Fabrizio Borsani, age six, Teo Gheorghiu, age twelve) who had a natural gift for mastering anything he set his mind to. Having realized that their son was a genius, Vitus’ parents (Julika Jenkins, Urs Jucker) did everything they could to foster their son’s gift, specifically his skills in playing the piano. However, Vitus didn’t like the feeling of being forced to do something so he rebelled and took refuge in his grandfather’s home (Bruno Ganz) whenever he felt helpless over things that were happening around him. This film completely transported me; it gave me that overwhelmingly wonderful feeling that was similar to when I saw the masterful “Le voyage du ballon rouge” for the first time. There was a certain lyricism to “Vitus” that trancends the cinematic medium which was strange because the storytelling was (arguably) old-fashioned. At first I thought it was just going to be about a child prodigy who desperately wanted to be normal but it also turned out to be about parents who expected so much of their only child, a love between a child and his babysitter, the bond between a grandfather and his grandchild (it made me wish my grandfather was still alive), balancing piano and aviation (which reminded me of my love for medicine and movies), and having to choose to follow one’s destiny versus letting go. In a nutshell, it was about growing up and living in a world that’s not truly equipped in fostering people with IQs of around 180. One of my many favorite scenes includes the scene when Vitus and his friend were bicycling in a circle. Whoever was in front of the camera, we heard the music they were listening to–Vitus and his classical music (without earphones), the friend and his hip-hop music (with earphones). I’ve never seen anything like it (or perhaps I have but the others pale in comparison) and it completely took my breath away. There were many artistic shots like that dispersed throughout the film and they constantly took me by surprise. In fact, I felt every emotion in the emotional spectrum from anger toward the mother who crossed the line between helping her child reach his potential and pushing him way too hard, to feeling warm when Vitus tried to get the attention of someone from his childhood, to complete awe whenever he played the piano with such passion and confidence. I’m surprised not many people have heard of this film because I think it’s so much better than popular foreign pictures like “La vita è bella.” I loved the way this film wrapped everything up because I felt like it went complete circle without being too cheesy or sentimental. In the end, it made me feel like I could accomplish anything. Years from now, when I do have a children of my own, this is one of those films I’ll be watching with them because it’s nothing short of wonderful every step of the way.

Casino


Casino (1995)
★★★★ / ★★★★

Based on a book by Nicholas Pileggi, “Casino” was about a casino owner (Robert De Niro) and his childhood friend who worked for the Mafia (Joe Pesci) whose bonds were tested on three fronts: their personal relationship, their businesses and a prostitute (Sharon Stone) with a penchant for money and power. But that’s only the surface of this deeply layered film expertly directed by Martin Scorsese. It was a strange feeling because although I found the film to be really complex in terms of how connected everyone was and how malleable their loyalties were, there were times when I thought it did not have a story. I felt like I was dropped into these characters’ lives and I was forced to watch their lives unfold from the 1970s until the 1980’s. The acting here was top-notch: De Niro had this suave swagger going on, Pesci was dangerous but there was something about him that I could not help but like and Stone was the kind of character who one could not help but hate. The way the three collided was very fun to watch because there were times when, like in Scorsese’s “Cape Fear,” everything was so exaggerated to the point where it was borderline amusing. I was absolutely in love with the script because, through narration, the characters were able to provide insight about their work and the decisions they made despite the fact that they knew they were going to regret it in the long run. I felt like the characters were actual people instead of just cardboard caricatures. Almost everything about this film was big: the ideas, the dark undertones, the dynamics of marriage and friendship. But I loved about it most was that it was able to analyze Las Vegas as one of the most glamorous places in the world but at the same time one of the ugliest places in the world. The way Scorsese played with that duality was fascinating to me because not only did he apply it as a metaphor for the characters, I think he pointed the finger at us–how out brilliant ideations do not always coincide with the grimy actualities. I also enjoyed how Scorsese viewed corruption as an almost necessary survival instinct for one to thrive in Las Vegas. Its three-hour running time was definitely a challenge (I took a break somewhere in the middle) but once I was hooked, I could not help but absorb it all. Some argue that picture was way too long and got bogged down by the marriage drama that pervaded the second half. I couldn’t disagree more because De Niro’s character deeply valued trust. I thought the second half made the movie that much richer because I understood him a bit more, given that we got to see him outside of the casino. That second half also gave us a chance to see De Niro and Pesci collide outside of the business world onto a more personal arena. Fans of Scorsese definitely should not miss this project because I think it’s one of his best. I only wish I had seen it sooner.

Pan’s Labyrinth


Pan’s Labyrinth (2006)
★★★★ / ★★★★

“El laberinto del fauno” or “Pan’s Labyrinth,” written and directed by Guillermo del Toro, is one of the most compelling pictures I’ve ever seen about the power of imagination. Ofelia (Ivana Baquero) used her mind as an escape from several events that she could not fully understand and deal with: moving into a new home in a countryside surrounded by the Spanish guerilla, her mother’s (Ariadna Gil) decision to be with a cruel army captain (Sergi López), her mother’s illness along with having a new sibling and the war that was driving everyone around her into a state of conflict and madness. In her fantasy world, she was an underground princess trapped in a human body. In order to get back to her royal family, a faun (Doug Jones) informed her that she must complete three dangerous tasks. What I admired most about this movie was del Toro’s ability to show us a story seen through a child’s eyes but at the same time keeping the reality at an arm’s length. Although fantastic elements are abound, this film is definitely not for children due to the intense violence and sometimes unbearable emotional suffering. I couldn’t help but be impressed with the way the director weaved in and out and through the reality and fantasy of the story. Even though we get drastic changes of scenery with each mission that Ofelia decided to take part in, tension was something we could not escape. I loved the spy/mother-figure played by Maribel Verdú. She just had this strength that radiated from within which made her a key figure in Ofelia’s life because her bed-ridden mother could not protect her. Verdú’s scenes with the smart and venomous captain gave me the creeps; the looks he so often gave her made me believe that he knew what she was up to all along. Ever since it’s release, “Pan’s Labyrinth” gained great approval from both critics and audiences and deservingly so. A lot of people consider the film as a dark fairytale. While it is that, I believe it only highlights one dimension of this amazing work. (The words “dark fairytale” sounds more like a fantasy.) A large portion of this picture was about how Ofelia looked inwards in a time of need and turned things that she could not control into something she could. That is, the more the main character was forced to grow up due to the circumstances around her, the more she gained an internal locus of control. When fantasy and reality finally collided during a key scene in the end, it was very depressing yet magical–and that was when del Toro’s vision finally came full circle.

The Pianist


The Pianist (2002)
★★★★ / ★★★★

You can say a lot of things about Roman Polanski since his personal life is often torn apart among the tabloids but you cannot deny that the man knows how to make movies. Not just typical movies that happen to be commercially successful, but movies that are personal, have artistic merit and have distinct emotional resonance. In “The Pianist,” Polanski focused on the survival story of a Polish Jewish survivor named Wladyslaw Szpilman (Adrien Brody) in Warsaw in the middle of World War II. I thought it was interesting how the picture started off with him and his family (Maureen Lipman and Frank Finlay as his parents, Jessica Kate Meyer and Julia Rayner as his sisters, and Ed Stoppard as his brother) and then shift the focus on how he was able to survive on his own with the help of kind strangers and adoring fans (Emilia Fox). Even though this was set in WWII, I thought it felt a little different because we spent the majority of the time observing him from indoors–how he saw the war from his window somewhat from an outsider’s perspective yet still caught up in the middle of it. We also observed how he moved from one place to another and the dangers (and repercussions) of certain decisions he had to make in order to subsist. Back when I saw this this film for the first time in 2002, I did not understand what was so special about a man trying to hide in an apartment instead of joining his comrades to fight against the Nazis. But seeing this movie seven years later, I thought that Szpilman’s experiences were really painful because he had to live with the guilt of surviving as his friends and family were murdered. Yet at the same time, it took a lot of courage for him to want to keep living despite the fact that there were times when he caught serious diseases, hasn’t eaten for days on end, and how the lack of company almost drove him into madness. I was really touched whenever he would play the piano after hiding for so long; it was kind of like watching a man coming back from the dead. I thought it expertly embodied the idea of music being an elixir of life. My favorite scene was toward the end when he played the piano for the Nazi that chose to help him (Thomas Kretschmann). I would never forget that scene because I felt like a lot of things were communicated between them even though they weren’t engaged in a conversation. With such great acting from everyone involved in this film, “The Pianist” was an emotional experience I can only try to describe. I believe everyone should see it at least once because the many layers are worth exploring. It was melancholy, suspenseful, dark yet it was sensitive and truly remarkable.

The Deep End


The Deep End (2001)
★★★★ / ★★★★

The thing I love most about this film is its audacity to be atypical. Tilda Swinton is absolutely terrific as the mother who is constantly tested to see how far she will go to protect her son (Jonathan Tucker) and his secrets. Throughout the picture, I felt like I was watching a poker game as I peer over her shoulder, both of us knowing that she has a bad hand, but she keeps calling her opponents’ bets because she invested too much in the round, desperately hoping that the others are simply bluffing. The bleak atmosphere elevated the constantly increasing drama to the point where it almost works as a thriller. I tried not to look Swinton in the eye too much because once I do, I feel like I’m in as much trouble as she is. Her Oscar win from “Michael Clayton” was a long time coming. Another great performance comes from Goran Visnjic who plays one of the men that blackmails Swinton. I thought I knew which direction his character was going to take so that specific twist was a nice surprise. As for Jonathan Tucker, I’ve seen him in movies like “Pulse,” “Hostage” and the 2003 version of “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre,” but it was “In the Valley of Elah” and “The Ruins” that made me want to know more about his capabilities. Even though he’s not in as many scenes I as I would have liked here (considering he’s a crucial part of the story), he was spot-on in each of them. Overall, I was invested in each character because the situations they are put in can happen to just about anybody. There’s a certain sense of realism and that’s what makes it so engaging. This is the kind of movie that not everybody can appreciate because it’s far from the norm. Instead of focusing on what was said, the film focuses on the characters’ silent moments and decisions, thereby creating a plethora of implications. Suffice to say, I think this film is exemplary in every way.

Schindler’s List


Schindler’s List
★★★★ / ★★★★

This is one of the most important and best told movies ever made and I do not say that lightly. Every scene is memorable and presented in such a sensitive way, but it’s never judgmental because it lets the images speak for themselves. There’s a scene in this film involving Ralph Fiennes’ character (Amon Goeth) about removing or changing a certain part of history; this movie is a perfect example why that character cannot be any more wrong. Liam Neeson is tremendous as Oskar Schindler because he is able to effectively show Schindler’s evolution as a businessman-turned-humanitarian. Fiennes is also amazing in this even though his character is a monster. Both actors share a certain complexity that is extremely difficult to come by nowadays. As for Ben Kingsley, at first I didn’t recognize him but after trying to figure out what his character was all about, I realized that he really looked familiar and recognized him after about five minutes of contemplation. If that isn’t a mark of a great actor, I don’t know what is. Many consider that this as Steven Spielberg’s masterpiece (among many) and I cannot agree more. Even though it spans for about three hours and fifteen minutes, I didn’t feel like I was watching it for that long. In fact, I felt like I was watching a documentary because of how real everything looked and felt; I felt like was really there. Spielberg’s decision to show this movie in black and white is nothing short of perfection. It allowed me to notice Spielberg’s techniques, such as presenting two completely different factors when something is apart but when those two are put together, they seem to complement or go with each other. Aside from the use of black and white, other examples include Schindler and Geoth’s personalities and ideals; one train heading toward a safe haven while the other heads toward hell; fusion of two, or sometimes even three, different scenes–one showing pain and misery while the other one showing happiness and celebration. The craft alone is enough for me to give this film a four-star review, but it managed to go beyond that. The one scene that really made me want to cry was near the end when Schindler regretted not selling his car or his valuable pin in order to save more lives in front of more than a thousand Jewish people he saved. It really got to me because he lost everything he had yet he was still sorry he couldn’t have done more. I remember watching this film back in high school but I didn’t understand and did not appreciate it as much. In my opinion, this is the kind of movie that should be required to show in schools when the students are learning about World War II. Spielberg has given the world a gift–a reminder of one of the darkest times in history and why we should prevent it from happening again. “Schindler’s List” is one of the reasons why movies are made.