The War A Ken Burns Film DVD and premium new realease dvd online shopping right now? The mythic quality of the Cordillera – the towering eastern stretch of the Andes mountains that serves as both a protective and isolating barrier for the city of Santiago – is harmonized with the grand, destructive illusions of Chile’s Pinochet regime in The Cordillera of Dreams, documentarian Patricio Guzmán’s personal rumination on his homeland’s tumultuous history, and his relationship to it. From vast sights of the snow-capped Andes, to grainy on-the-street video footage of Pinochet tyranny, to introspective interviews with fellow artists, Guzmán’s film (the third entry in a trilogy that also includes Nostalgia for the Light and The Pearl Button) examines the catastrophic upheaval of 1973’s coup d’état, and the lingering scars it left on him and the country’s citizens. In vistas of the ancient and immovable Cordillera, close-ups of cracks lining the hardscrabble soil, and gazes into labyrinth-like patterns found on junkyard car doors, Guzmán (who also serves as narrator) evokes a poetic sense of imposing mysteries and unrepairable fissures, which spread through him – and economically unbalanced Chilean culture – like the solemn valleys that course between the Andes’ peaks.
Bones is a procedural crime drama that aired for 12 seasons from 2005 to 2017, focusing on FBI case files related to human remains and the lives of the show’s characters. Throughout the series, Dr. Temperance “Bones” Brennan, played by Emily Deschanel, devoted herself to her career, to Agent Seeley Booth (David Boreanaz), and to her team at the Jeffersonian. They include best friend Angela Montenegro (Michaela Conlin), an artist who specializes in reconstructing facial features and crime scenes, and Angela’s husband, Dr. Jack Hodgins (T.J. Thyne), a conspiracy theorist and expert on insects, spores and minerals, who is affectionately known as “the slime and bug guy.” Read more info at https://www.dvdshelf.com.au/buy-dvd-in-australia/bones-complete-series-australia-dvd-on-sale/.
The modern gig economy is set up so that the customer rarely has to think very much about the person delivering a package to their door. Sorry We Missed You, the latest working class social drama from 83-year-old English filmmaker Ken Loach, is a harsh reminder that those piles of cardboard Amazon boxes have a human cost. The film follows married couple Ricky (Kris Hitchen) and Abbi (Debbie Honeywood) as they attempt to raise their two kids, keep their humble home in Newcastle, and and hold down jobs stripped of conventional protections. As Ricky’s domineering boss tells him at the beginning of the movie, he’s not an “employee.” No, he’s his own small business owner and independent contractor. Loach finds dark laughs and absurdity in the the convoluted language of precarity, particularly the way management attempts to sell poor working conditions as a form of empowerment, but he also captures the tender, intimate moments that occur in even the most soul-sucking jobs. Ricky and his daughter find joy in knocking on doors and leaving notes; Abbi, who works as a nurse, genuinely cares for her patients like her own family even if the company she works for refuses to pay for her transportation. Though the script leans too hard on melodrama in its final stretch, setting up scenes that don’t always deliver on their dramatic potential, Loach never loses his moral grasp on the material.
Some words about streaming services : Hulu does produce some original movies, such as Happiest Season, Palm Springs (which was nominated for a Golden Globe), and Run. Foreign films on the platform include Shoplifters and A Breath Away. Despite Hulu’s efforts, Netflix currently offers the best movie library of any of the video streaming services. A dedicated movie streaming service offers more for cinephiles. For instance, The Criterion Channel’s and Mubi’s film libraries are much more substantial and heavily curated. Hulu’s documentary section features a lot of celebrity biopics; from The Beatles to B.B. King, there are documentaries about the life and times of many beloved musicians. Fashion documentaries on the service include The First Monday in May, Dior and I, Diana Vreeland: The Eye Has to Travel, and McQueen. Outdoors enthusiasts should check out Free Solo, the mountain-climbing documentary featuring fearless free solo climbers and sweeping shots of impossibly high cliffs.
Aviva tackles the multifaceted nature of gender identity in fittingly diverse fashion, depicting the highs and lows of a couple’s relationship via narrative and modern-dance means – as well as by having both a man and a woman play each of its protagonists, male Eden (Bobbi Jene Smith, Tyler Phillips) and female Aviva (Zina Zinchenko, Or Schraiber). That Bunuelian device speaks to the masculine and feminine sides of both characters, whose ups and downs together and apart form the basis of Boaz Yakin’s (Remember the Titans) unconventional semi-autobiographical tale. From email pen pals, to husband and wife, to estranged exes, Eden and Aviva’s love story is told from both external and interior vantage points. The writer/director employs narration, shifts in perspective, flashbacks, and wild dramatic scenes—both male and female Edens and Avivas sometimes share the screen, partying, arguing or having passionate sex—to provide an intimate sense of the desires and fears propelling these conjoined figures forward. Yakin’s sinuous, passionate indie is as entrancing as it is daring. See extra details at dvdshelf.com.au..
Liz Garbus’s grim Netflix drama is based on Robert Kolker’s powerfully empathetic book about the victims of a still-at-large Long Island serial killer believed to have butchered between 10 and 16 female sex workers — whose bodies lay for years on a stretch of Gilgo Beach. Garbus focuses on the conflict between a working-class mother (Amy Ryan) whose oldest daughter has disappeared and the Suffolk County Police — led by a grave, empty suit (Gabriel Byrne) — who don’t exactly put themselves out for missing “hookers.” The film lacks the scope of Kolker’s book, but in tracing a link between murderous misogyny and patriarchal indifference it leaves you bereft (Why aren’t they acting like committed TV cops?) and then outraged. It’s an anti-police procedural.
