The film is full of misunderstandings and half-spoken thoughts and desires….And yet, the real joy of the film is the moments of understanding between people.
“The time has come, I believe, to listen in silence to our own song, to try to express our own personal vision, to define our own sensibility, to make our own way. Let us learn to look, let us learn to see, let us learn to feel.”
The joy of sharing the fruits of our garden with my family in our wild and teeming summertime yard. Listening to music and talking, and feeling grateful for all of it.
She doesn’t have a voice in their presence. What we get instead is the rich, intelligent voice of her thoughts and her memories.
More and more, Pennhurst’s amazing true story is is becoming buried. I like to think my little film is helping keep it alive.
He wasn’t scared of them, but he had a feeling of powerful things and deep things. He said that we need to find a way to look at the cave paintings. Where would he start to search for this new way of looking? Everywhere.
These phantasms are concocted from a little kernel of conscience, or guilt, or fear, or loneliness. Sometimes others see them, sometimes they don’t, they’re shifting and dreamlike, and they operate according to their own rules. They’re unreliable narrators. They’re wise or foolish, in turn; they speak in riddles, they speak a questionable truth, changing and suspect, like all truths.
An art exhibit comes to rest in an abandoned New Jersey Neighborhood
Hidden Fortress was an inspiration for George Lucas in the making of Star Wars, and it is every bit as thrilling and swashbuckling, full of adventure and romance. But whereas Star Wars seems to operate on an almost mythological idea of good and evil, Hidden Fortress is more nuanced.
Work that lies dormant and unseen is like the art we create in our dreams, so perfectly full of potential and possibility- glimpses into the memories of others and the collective memory of all of us.