Saturday, 26 April 2014

"The apartment" (1960)

I don't do film reviews. 
Especially when I'm crazy about the film, because at such moments, I'm so caught up in my excitement and ecstasy that I can only scream, not write. 
Which is now the case. I love love love "The apartment"- it is proof that a film doesn't have to be complex or costly, nor cover grand themes, to be wonderful. The film itself is great, with 93% rating on Rotten Tomatoes, 5 Oscars and another 5 nominations, 4 stars out of 4 by Roger Ebert (included in his "Great movies" list), etc. Then there is also what I call 'the personal factor', which even the most objective critics still have. Once in a while we know a film to be so-so but embrace its flaws and watch it over and over again with pleasure or, in the case of "The apartment", recognise its greatness from an objective point of view and at the same time value it personally and even adore it, when the film appeals to our romantic/ sentimental/ dreamy/ hopeful/ vulnerable/ silly/ childlike... side.
At times like this I hate myself for being unable to express my thoughts and emotions. 
I'm at a loss.

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