Philipp Meyer’s sweeping Texas-set epic The Son to be adapted for AMC; Meyer to executive produce.
Get the details over in the third row!

Philipp Meyer’s sweeping Texas-set epic The Son to be adapted for AMC; Meyer to executive produce.

Get the details over in the third row!

rowthree:

Look, I get it. Your days are busy enough as it is. You have 732 bookmarks, the most of which will forever be lost in the abyss that is you favorites folder. How could you possibly add another film website onto your must-read list of internet websites?
Well, I’m here to convince you to come over to our official Row Three website and give it a chance.
In the third row, our slogan is that it’s a place where armchair directors can find comfort. That means if you like movies for more than the sake of entertainment, then you’re bound to enjoy our site where we discuss films in-depth and encourage discussion.
All of our editors not only write articles, but every single one of us participates in the discussions beneath each. Ask us a question? It doesn’t get lost in the abyss of comments. As a rule, we always engage with our readers, which we find to be the most important and intellectually stimulating part of our site. Not feeling up to a debate? We accept cheesy gifs as comments also.

Reasons to join in on the third row action:
We have a truly unique and international group of writers from the all over the United States (Los Angeles, Minneapolis, Pittsburgh), Canada (Toronto, Vancouver), and the UK (Lincoln, Glasgow)!
We produce numerous podcasts that are very unique from one another (The Cinecast, Mamo!, and After the Credits). 
We have a massive review archive dating back to 2007!
The are active sections for Row Three readers to discuss television, music, books, and games! 
Our writers cover in-depth the widest variety of festivals in the movie blog sphere, festivals all over the world which include Cannes, Toronto International Film Festival, LA Film Festival, AFI Fest, Flyaway, Hot Docs, Toronto After Dark, Minneapolis St. Paul International Film Festival, Shinsedai Festival, TCM Film Fest, Vancouver International Film Festival, Spark Animation Festival, and Fantasia!
David occasionally has a weekend where he watches and reviews terrible, awful, old B-movies (see: Weekend of Trash).
We are just a whole lot of fun!
So, come join us in the third row! You won’t be disappointed. Here is where you can find us:
Our official site: http://www.rowthree.com
About Our Writers
Our twitter account: @rowthree
Our Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/rowthree
Our iTunes podcasts page: https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/row-three-podcast/id269530318
Our various RSS feeds

rowthree:

Look, I get it. Your days are busy enough as it is. You have 732 bookmarks, the most of which will forever be lost in the abyss that is you favorites folder. How could you possibly add another film website onto your must-read list of internet websites?

Well, I’m here to convince you to come over to our official Row Three website and give it a chance.

In the third row, our slogan is that it’s a place where armchair directors can find comfort. That means if you like movies for more than the sake of entertainment, then you’re bound to enjoy our site where we discuss films in-depth and encourage discussion.

All of our editors not only write articles, but every single one of us participates in the discussions beneath each. Ask us a question? It doesn’t get lost in the abyss of comments. As a rule, we always engage with our readers, which we find to be the most important and intellectually stimulating part of our site. Not feeling up to a debate? We accept cheesy gifs as comments also.

Reasons to join in on the third row action:

So, come join us in the third row! You won’t be disappointed. Here is where you can find us:

Come check out our all new redesign!

rowthree:

Ah, now Ben Kingsley is scantily clad. All is well in the world.
New beer is the Lake Erie Monster by Great Lakes Brewery. It’s an imperial IPA with a whopping 9.10% ABV. This is not a beer for the faint of heart. It’s hoppy as hell with hints of citrus and pine. 

rowthree:

Ah, now Ben Kingsley is scantily clad. All is well in the world.

New beer is the Lake Erie Monster by Great Lakes Brewery. It’s an imperial IPA with a whopping 9.10% ABV. This is not a beer for the faint of heart. It’s hoppy as hell with hints of citrus and pine. 

rowthree:

Review from the Past: Le Samourai


"I never lose. Never really."


If you missed the first edition of From the Back Row, it’s going to be an occasional editorial where I’ll take a look at films that I feel don’t get the recognition, attention, or discussion that they deserve – with hopes of inspiring people that haven’t seen the films to check them out. This edition we’re going to take a look at a personal favorite of mine, the 1967 Jean-Pierre Melville directed French film Le Samouraï.
Starring Alain Delon, whose filmography contain films by legends such as Melville, Michelangelo Antonioni and Luchino Visconti, Le Samouraï is the reflective, deliberately-paced tale of a perfectionist hitman named Jef Costello – a man of honor, pride, and principles who abides by a strict, methodical code in every aspect of his life.The film starts off with a long take of Costello in bed, reflectively smoking a cigarette, before a line of text from the Japanese samurai Book of Bushido appears on the screen:“There is no solitude greater than the samurai’s, unless perhaps it be that of a tiger in the jungle.” With that and the callous look in Costello’s eyes, we understand what he is, who he is – a loner with an obsessive code of honor who is a part of a twisted world that he’ll never truly belong to.
The film then follows Costello on a job and his carefully planned, detail-obsessed ways are apparent – that is, until he goes to the nightclub where he shoots the owner and is seen by the club’s beautiful pianist Valérie. As fate would have it though, when he is picked up for a police line-up, the combination of Costello’s planned alibi and the denial by Valérie that he is the killer sets him free – even if the Police Superintendent isn’t convinced of his innocence. Soon after, Costello attempts to collect the money from his employer who attempts to kill him. With both the police and his employer on his tail, the prideful Costello refuses to roll over or cut his losses as he gets deeper and deeper into a hole that even his perfectionist, clever ways can’t seem get him out of.
While this has inspired the likes of Jarmusch’s Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai, Woo’s The Killer and Besson’s Leon: The Professional, this movie is still its own breed – one that I’ve still been unable to compare anything to. For some, it will be a tough pill to swallow, as there is very little violence and action – something that most would expect from a movie about a hitman. What left me so impressed with the film was how similar it seemed Melville was to his film’s protagonist – every single shot seems perfectly crafted and planned, the unhurried pace so deliberate, the jazzy score intentionally going hand-in-hand with the atmosphere Melville created. Looking from afar, there isn’t a whole lot to the premise, but Melville creates such suspense and mood with all of the subtleties and Alain Delon captures the essence of Jef Costello so perfectly (he gets my vote for coolest movie hitman ever) that once you delve deeper and begin to interpret and pick the film apart, you’ll be spending hours dissecting every single frame, every moment. While I won’t give it away here, the ending is one that will stick with you for days afterwards, one that you’ll mull over in your mind over and over until you finally come to your own conclusion. Then you’ll realize you’re still not entirely sure what you think.

rowthree:

Review from the Past: Le Samourai

"I never lose. Never really."

If you missed the first edition of From the Back Row, it’s going to be an occasional editorial where I’ll take a look at films that I feel don’t get the recognition, attention, or discussion that they deserve – with hopes of inspiring people that haven’t seen the films to check them out. This edition we’re going to take a look at a personal favorite of mine, the 1967 Jean-Pierre Melville directed French film Le Samouraï.

Starring Alain Delon, whose filmography contain films by legends such as Melville, Michelangelo Antonioni and Luchino Visconti, Le Samouraï is the reflective, deliberately-paced tale of a perfectionist hitman named Jef Costello – a man of honor, pride, and principles who abides by a strict, methodical code in every aspect of his life.

The film starts off with a long take of Costello in bed, reflectively smoking a cigarette, before a line of text from the Japanese samurai Book of Bushido appears on the screen:“There is no solitude greater than the samurai’s, unless perhaps it be that of a tiger in the jungle.” With that and the callous look in Costello’s eyes, we understand what he is, who he is – a loner with an obsessive code of honor who is a part of a twisted world that he’ll never truly belong to.

The film then follows Costello on a job and his carefully planned, detail-obsessed ways are apparent – that is, until he goes to the nightclub where he shoots the owner and is seen by the club’s beautiful pianist Valérie. As fate would have it though, when he is picked up for a police line-up, the combination of Costello’s planned alibi and the denial by Valérie that he is the killer sets him free – even if the Police Superintendent isn’t convinced of his innocence. Soon after, Costello attempts to collect the money from his employer who attempts to kill him. With both the police and his employer on his tail, the prideful Costello refuses to roll over or cut his losses as he gets deeper and deeper into a hole that even his perfectionist, clever ways can’t seem get him out of.

While this has inspired the likes of Jarmusch’s Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai, Woo’s The Killer and Besson’s Leon: The Professional, this movie is still its own breed – one that I’ve still been unable to compare anything to. For some, it will be a tough pill to swallow, as there is very little violence and action – something that most would expect from a movie about a hitman. What left me so impressed with the film was how similar it seemed Melville was to his film’s protagonist – every single shot seems perfectly crafted and planned, the unhurried pace so deliberate, the jazzy score intentionally going hand-in-hand with the atmosphere Melville created. Looking from afar, there isn’t a whole lot to the premise, but Melville creates such suspense and mood with all of the subtleties and Alain Delon captures the essence of Jef Costello so perfectly (he gets my vote for coolest movie hitman ever) that once you delve deeper and begin to interpret and pick the film apart, you’ll be spending hours dissecting every single frame, every moment. While I won’t give it away here, the ending is one that will stick with you for days afterwards, one that you’ll mull over in your mind over and over until you finally come to your own conclusion. Then you’ll realize you’re still not entirely sure what you think.

rowthree:

Review from the Past: The Samurai Trilogy

"Generally speaking, the way of the warrior is resolute acceptance of death."

Before there was the original Star Wars trilogy, before there was the Three Colors trilogy, before there was the Lord of the Rings trilogy, The Godfather trilogy, and the The Man with No Name trilogy, there was a collection of three epic films from directorHiroshi Inagaki about Japan’s most famed samurai, Musashi Miyamoto, that have become known as the Samurai trilogy – Musashi Miyamoto (1954), Duel at Ichijoji Temple (1955), and Duel on Ganryu Island (1956). Often overlooked and forgotten, many of those that have viewed it – including myself – consider it one of the elite trilogies in film and some of most memorable in all of Japanese cinema.


The trilogy follows the romanticized story of the real life Japanese samurai Miyamoto Musashi, during the early 17th century – the man who is often considered the most skilled swordsman in history. Played by the legendary Toshirô Mifune (Seven Samurai, Yojimbo), Musashi’s story begins when he is young and wild, as he impulsively leaves his village to join up with an army on its way to battle. He is inconsiderate, rude, and arrogant – and when his reckless behavior and attitude results in his being falsely accused of treason, a kind, but strict monk who sees potential in the young man saves his life, but under the condition that he vigorously studies the samurai code. While doing this, Musashi meets the young and beautiful Otsu, who soon falls in love with him – but his goals and feelings aren’t entirely clear and throughout the films we watch as he matures and duels his way into becoming a legend of unimaginable proportions.
Seven Samurai (which oddly enough, came out the same year as the first film of this trilogy) and Akira Kurosawa’s other samurai-centered epics may get most of the attention and glory when film buffs think of Japanese cinema, but Inagaki’s Samurai trilogy is comparable to all of Kurosawa’s work in its epic scale and grandeur. While it may lack the particular masterful style of Kurosawa’s work, it makes up for it in sheer beauty and the excellent development of the Miyamoto Musashi character – largely in part to Mifune, who I think gives the greatest and deepest performance of his career here. If you found the transformation of Mifune’s Kikuchiyo in Seven Samurai to be brilliant, you’ll be blown away by his portrayal of Musashi, from his start as the naive and reckless rogue to an honorable and legendary samurai master.
While the first two films develop all of the characters wonderfully and have some great duels to keep the pacing up, it’s the final film, Duel on Ganryu Island, that really shines and is the true masterpiece of the three films. The inevitable duel that takes place on Ganryu Island is one of the most magnificent scenes in all of cinema – in beauty, in brilliance, in emotional punch, and just plain and pure awesomeness.

If you like Japanese cinema or if you enjoy character-driven epics, this is in the upper tier of both. As a whole, this is a masterpiece on par with any of Kurosawa’s work. Sadly, once the 1970s hit, Japan became increasingly conservative, and Inagaki could no longer find funding for his films, which Japanese investors considered “too expensive.” He turned to alcohol for comfort and died as a result of it – lonely, old, and not having made one film during the last decade of his life despite his desire to. It’s a tragic tale, but with it, he’ll forever be remembered as one of the true pioneers of Japanese cinema and bringing to life one of the greatest trilogies and characters that I know of.

rowthree:

Review from the Past: The Samurai Trilogy

"Generally speaking, the way of the warrior is resolute acceptance of death."

Before there was the original Star Wars trilogy, before there was the Three Colors trilogy, before there was the Lord of the Rings trilogy, The Godfather trilogy, and the The Man with No Name trilogy, there was a collection of three epic films from directorHiroshi Inagaki about Japan’s most famed samurai, Musashi Miyamoto, that have become known as the Samurai trilogy – Musashi Miyamoto (1954), Duel at Ichijoji Temple (1955), and Duel on Ganryu Island (1956). Often overlooked and forgotten, many of those that have viewed it – including myself – consider it one of the elite trilogies in film and some of most memorable in all of Japanese cinema.

The trilogy follows the romanticized story of the real life Japanese samurai Miyamoto Musashi, during the early 17th century – the man who is often considered the most skilled swordsman in history. Played by the legendary Toshirô Mifune (Seven Samurai, Yojimbo), Musashi’s story begins when he is young and wild, as he impulsively leaves his village to join up with an army on its way to battle. He is inconsiderate, rude, and arrogant – and when his reckless behavior and attitude results in his being falsely accused of treason, a kind, but strict monk who sees potential in the young man saves his life, but under the condition that he vigorously studies the samurai code. While doing this, Musashi meets the young and beautiful Otsu, who soon falls in love with him – but his goals and feelings aren’t entirely clear and throughout the films we watch as he matures and duels his way into becoming a legend of unimaginable proportions.

Seven Samurai (which oddly enough, came out the same year as the first film of this trilogy) and Akira Kurosawa’s other samurai-centered epics may get most of the attention and glory when film buffs think of Japanese cinema, but Inagaki’s Samurai trilogy is comparable to all of Kurosawa’s work in its epic scale and grandeur. While it may lack the particular masterful style of Kurosawa’s work, it makes up for it in sheer beauty and the excellent development of the Miyamoto Musashi character – largely in part to Mifune, who I think gives the greatest and deepest performance of his career here. If you found the transformation of Mifune’s Kikuchiyo in Seven Samurai to be brilliant, you’ll be blown away by his portrayal of Musashi, from his start as the naive and reckless rogue to an honorable and legendary samurai master.

While the first two films develop all of the characters wonderfully and have some great duels to keep the pacing up, it’s the final film, Duel on Ganryu Island, that really shines and is the true masterpiece of the three films. The inevitable duel that takes place on Ganryu Island is one of the most magnificent scenes in all of cinema – in beauty, in brilliance, in emotional punch, and just plain and pure awesomeness.

If you like Japanese cinema or if you enjoy character-driven epics, this is in the upper tier of both. As a whole, this is a masterpiece on par with any of Kurosawa’s work. Sadly, once the 1970s hit, Japan became increasingly conservative, and Inagaki could no longer find funding for his films, which Japanese investors considered “too expensive.” He turned to alcohol for comfort and died as a result of it – lonely, old, and not having made one film during the last decade of his life despite his desire to. It’s a tragic tale, but with it, he’ll forever be remembered as one of the true pioneers of Japanese cinema and bringing to life one of the greatest trilogies and characters that I know of.

rowthree:

Did you like Django Unchained (our review)?
If so, be sure to check out our review for the classic (yet relatively unknown) spaghetti western The Great Silence, which was directed by Sergio Corbucci… the man who directed the original Django!
Click here to check it out!

"Once, my husband told me of this man. He avenges our wrongs. And the bounty killers sure do tremble when he appears. They call him Silence. Because wherever he goes, the silence of death follows."

rowthree:

Did you like Django Unchained (our review)?

If so, be sure to check out our review for the classic (yet relatively unknown) spaghetti western The Great Silence, which was directed by Sergio Corbucci… the man who directed the original Django!

Click here to check it out!

"Once, my husband told me of this man. He avenges our wrongs. And the bounty killers sure do tremble when he appears. They call him Silence. Because wherever he goes, the silence of death follows."

[R]eally, everything was said in the 2009 version of Star Trek about J.J. Abram’s ability to keep the plot moving so fast that it doesn’t allow the audience to over think what is actually happening. …

Part of me is saddened that [the new Stark Trek] is not about an optimistic future and a co-operative human spirit, but rather a bit of a short-con game in one-upping the moive-plot surprises – to seek out new gasps and new sleight of hand. To boldly re-create and mirror-image things shot before.

The audience seems quite satisfied with the slick reboot and glossy high-budget look, and that there is the greatest trick the director ever pulled.

Kurt Halfyard in his review of Star Trek: Into Darkness (via rowthree)
Loneliness has followed me my whole life. Everywhere. In bars, in cars, sidewalks, stores, everywhere. There’s no escape. I’m God’s lonely man.
Travis Bickle in Martin Scorsese’s “Taxi Driver” (via rowthree)
Relatively soon, I will die. Maybe in 20 years, maybe tomorrow, it doesn’t matter. Once I am dead and everyone who knew me dies too, it will be as though I never existed. What difference has my life made to anyone. None that I can think of. None at all.
Jack Nicholson in About Schmidt (via rowthree)
I was in the Virgin Islands once. I met a girl. We ate lobster, drank Piña Coladas. At sunset we made love like sea otters. That was a pretty good day. Why couldn’t I get that day over and over and over?
Bill Murray in Groundhog Day (via rowthree)
If men are honest, everything they do and everywhere they go is for a chance to see women. There were points in my life where I felt oddly irresistible to women. I’m not in that state now and that makes me sad. But I also believe that a lot of the improvements in my character have come through ageing and the diminishing of powers. It’s all a balancing act; you just have to get used to the ride.
Jack Nicholson on honestly, women, and aging (source). (via rowthree)