Guillermo del Toro's THE SHAPE OF WATER (2017)

Some movies are for looking at, and I'd

Say this is one, for ev'ry gorgeous frame

Would look great on my wall. All that aside, 

This fairy tale for grown-ups plays a game

Of fantasy-nostalgia that's both real --

All analog and black and white and chrome

(Or rather, green and red and, of course, teal) --

And un-, as ol' Abe Sapiens is alone

No longer. Richard and Octavia got

Plain robbed, though, at the Oscars, but for me

That proves they were the best, as much as not.

I do not know I'll ever want to see

This one again, though. There is nothing wrong

Here though: but Pan's and Devil's play my song.

Peter Bogdanovich's THE LAST PICTURE SHOW (1972)

Before those Friday Nights got any Lights, 

Ere ever Dazéd teens were too Confused, 

Jeff Bridges left poor Cybill hangin'. Nights

In black and white stretched long with naught to do

But get in sexy trouble, it would seem. 

It's hard to say which story breaks the heart

The most -- the ones depicted on the screen?

Or what occurred behind the cameras. Part

Of each perhaps. Meanwhile, each dewy face, 

And each hard-bitten, steals the viewer's breath.

There's something timeless, too, about that place, 

North Texas in the 50s, near its death,

And full of gossip, jealousy and pain

That feels just like my own town on the plain.

Robert Eggers' THE VVITCH : A NEW ENGLAND FOLK TALE (2015)

Bad parenting, ahoy! You didn't think

That only happens now, did you? A dad

Need not be violent, and needn't drink

To wreck a fam'ly's life. Then, too, a bad

Mom helps, especially when a big black goat,

With Chekov's giant horns, is also there. 

In truest ay-two-four style, you can vote:

Is this for "real" or did they all just share

Some ergot-madness? Too, it's well-conveyed

How ev'rything must stink, as well as why

(Yes, fetch the water downstream from the maid

Who's washing goat-shit from some clothes, oh aye!).

I'd like to see this done in black and white.

Such ambiguity might up the fright...

Tomas Gutierrez Alea's MEMORIES OF UNDERDEVELOPMENT (1968)

A Cuban Humbert Humbert's just the start, 

Our man there in Havana likes to peep

But not participate or help; his heart

Is less developed than his nation. Keep

Away from guys like this: though to the eyes

He's so appealing, privileged and cool,

He's odious. While all his fam'ly flies

Off to America lest Castro's rule

Come after them, he stays, but it's not brave. 

He's rid of all who might expect of him

An effort while he's this side of the grave. 

His frantic nation lets him stay that dim 

And keep his comforts even when, you bet

He goes and bothers quite the wrong nymphet.

James Mangold's FORD V FERRARI (2019)

A car does not excite me; nor a race,

But competence is always fun to see

In action, as is friendship, and a base

Of function in a family. For me,

Though, who has really bad reactions to

Big crashes, unsafe driving (thanks a lot,

O PTSD), I stayed watching through

A lot of that because I really got

A kick from Christian Bale, a character,

And not a growl inside a suit, again!

There's the best fistfight that I've seen occur

In recent years, as well. There might have been

A bit too mighty sound for migraine types, 

But otherwise, it well deserves the hype. 

Harald Zwart's THE 12TH MAN (2017)

 

We've all been cold, but have we cut our toes

Right off our feet 'gainst gangrene, started when

They froze in winter seawater, then snows

That buried us for days? I haven't been

Quite there. Nor have I been a hero, passed

Around a nation like a living prize

That everyone's decided is their last

Best hope for freedom. Jesus, though, those eyes.

Throughout Jan Baalstrud's journey as portrayed

By Thomas Gullestad, now clear, now red

Like nothing should be red, from snow glare, stayed

With me for hours. There are sights to dread,

But also thrills to have, as when, at speed

A reindeer drags him racing in his need!

Josephine Decker's SHIRLEY (2020)

The great achievement of this dreary work

Is making of Ms. Moss's elfin face

A doppelganger for Ms. Jackson, smirk

And rank untidiness and all, but pace

The famous savages who wore her down.

Instead we get some newlyweds to share

Their home, two cute young things who quickly drown

In melodrama, but I couldn't care

About them and their sexy, sexy scenes. 

I'd rather a straight biopic, though, than this --

And Moss and Stuhlberg sure would be the means

To make this happen! But this here's a miss.

The look of things was right; I'll give it that. 

But otherwise? It's just not where it's at.