Friday, October 13, 2006

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PTU - Reviews - 2

Another review of PTU, Stefano Locati, trails by Wild Nights

of desolation: PTU and the return of Johnnie To

From When Johnnie To - along with Wai Ka-fai father-master of the Milkyway, the production company that has most contributed to redefine the aesthetics of film noir at the end of the last century - seemed to have decided that in times of lean is better to look after loaf lost in wishful thinking rather than quality, many of the hopes placed in him were disappointed. Then there is the testimony of essential masterpieces such as A Hero Never Dies furious (1998), epitaph cynical and desperate for any male friendship imaginable, or stun what dazzling The Mission (1999), a synthesis of stylistic care that results in emotional depth, but after a long series of blockbuster designed desk full of stars, and the cuteness minimum wage of commitment which forced us, it was difficult to abandon hope. Were not enough remnants of romantic Needing You ".. and Love for All Seasons , the colorless comedies Love on a Diet and Fat Choi Spirit commingling hazardous or even digest what Wu Yen and My Left Eye Sees Ghosts , had arrived at the final sentencing brag Fulltime Killer of el'inconcludenza of Running Out of Time 2 (following the questionable but at least worth thinking divertissement in 1999). Well sad to say, the future is a flood of cash, yet the final abdication from the supporter of a cinema full, hard - basically ruthless - not so much for the themes, only incidental and reviewable film in the film, as grammatically and constitutively . But no. But after two years of semi-clandestine work, with filming done in my spare time, get PTU , grimace (but with love) to those who thought he was finally evaporated. PTU, on the contrary, reveals a shrewd Johnnie To, almost Lucifer in the wrist produce goods wholesale and then indulge in more personal projects such as dismantling the programmatic mission. Because the story of the night The black sergeant, a police officer over the top chasing some thugs guilty of having smeared car, until you fall, hit his head and wake up without a gun is nothing more than the reading of hallucinatory Stray Dog (Akira Kurosawa, 1949) with a view to After Hours (Martin Scorsese, 1985). He asks his friend Mike I help the Police Tactical Unit, and together they decide to try to recover the weapon before daylight, heedless of the two gangs and criminal groups involved in care discipline, embodied by the stubborn Cheng, who breathes the neck of both. On the streets deserted and almost eliminated in the district of Tsimshatsui, Hong Kong in a night and never so icy, take humans to wander astray like hungry ants, prey to basic instincts and daydreams of the duration of a blink of an eye - characters Looking for a gravity forced to turn on themselves, load up the meeting with fate, in the final round as a mockery, which erases all expectations heroic to indulge disgrace Stradaioli mixed and reflective of humanity, imploded. Among karaoke, game rooms, back rooms of restaurants and falling, above all, anger seething streets - the scene of beatings and wickedness of every kind - a longing above anti-Manichaean sense of continuity that shatters any preconceived, preferring rather the expansion of the rhythms in a syncopated and shortness of breath which leaves room for boasting daily rogue cops and mobsters losers. Lam Suet, finally elected to a leading role in tens of (perfect) characterizations, is a tragicomic mask, Simon Yam, unusually controlled, is the look of sadistic power with truncheon, Ruby Wong, quiet and sensual masculine clothes are too big is the part of the fallible bureaucracy as a glue, a soundtrack chrome rattling guitars and velvety persuasive.

Stefano Locati, Wild Trails, a little 'time ago.
( http://www.sentieriselvaggi.it/
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