PENK wrote:You go to the cinema to see pretty pictures. There are few prettier than Barry Lyndon.
Several years after seeing it I couldn't begin to tell you what the fuck happened, who any of the characters were (there was a duel early on and he got into playing cards). But I remember so many gorgeous visual details. Wonderful stuff.
Yeah, if you want to talk about what the movie is "about," it's not really about the story of the guy (who's something of a pissant anyway). It's more about the mode or perception you're in looking at a roomful of gruesome fops lit only by dozens of candles and filmed with some kind of bitching, far-out lens. It's just about the feeling you get from the visuals and sound.
Fuck the plot. Plot, schmot. Every other movie has one of those (except the really good ones).