Images: My Life in Film

Cinema 's latest art, in other words the seventh art. Six other arts include theater, painting, sculpture, music and dance. Among these are the only art cinema is not only to serve a six-art but also promoting them have been able to forgive. As well as the cinema industry, the technique is also employed in your text. In the collection you will be familiar with the cinema and science of cinema.

If you ask most film fans to name just one movie which best sums up the Golden Age of Hollywood, or even film in general, chances are the majority of them are going to answer Gone With the Wind. This epic 1939 release, which still sits atop most all time box office champ lists (at least those with receipts adjusted for inflation), really shouldn't have been such a bellwether production, though. With a famously troubled pre-production which forced producer David O.

Bill Douglas Trilogy (My Childhood, My Ain Folk, My Way Home) - by Bill Douglas (1972, 1973, 1978)

Bill Douglas’s award-winning films My Childhood, My Ain Folk and My Way Home are three of the most compelling and critically acclaimed films about childhood ever made.

Endlessly imitated and parodied, Ingmar Bergman's landmark art movie The Seventh Seal (Det Sjunde Inseglet) retains its ability to hold an audience spellbound. Bergman regular Max von Sydow stars as a 14th century knight named Antonius Block, wearily heading home after ten years' worth of combat. Disillusioned by unending war, plague, and misery Block has concluded that God does not exist. As he trudges across the wilderness, Block is visited by Death (Bengt Ekerot), garbed in the traditional black robe. Unwilling to give up the ghost, Block challenges Death to a game of chess. If he wins, he lives – if not, he'll allow Death to claim him. As they play, the knight and the Grim Reaper get into a spirited discussion over whether or not God exists. To recount all that happens next would diminish the impact of the film itself; we can observe that The Seventh Seal ends with one of the most indelible of all of Bergman's cinematic images: the near-silhouette "Dance of Death".