Hi, As the songs are already posted, this is the complete aata movie.
A few notes of interest about Brand Upon the Brain!, which I saw awhile ago now, but am eager to share nonetheless. First of all, the movie is not just a "movie,' it is an experience that combines live narration and sound effects, while watching an image that sputters to life with spontaneity. It captures the memories of "Guy Maddin" (he is the director, yes, but the story's protagonist as well) and reruns them with overt attention to their repetition. These are not flashbacks, but the story unfolding in disconnected retrospect. The film is about memory and functions like it; it is the process of taking us through Maddin’s recollection that gives it meaning. 
Having only seen a few minutes of the original 28 Days Later, I have no significant complaints about its sequel, 28 Weeks Later. In fact, I loved the latter horror flick. With a heavy splattering of blood, 28 Weeks gives us some of the best political commentary in recent horror history. In the context of the Iraq war and the indefatigable rhetoric of the U.S. military "surge," director Juan Carlos Fresnadillo asks the question, Where does insurgency end? Apparently, it doesn't. The quarantined area of central London a full 28 weeks after the first "rage" attacks (where infected humans transform into animalistic blood-suckers within seconds) is, as it turns out, unsafe: one human is discovered to have an immunity, but subsequently transmits the virus to the genetically weaker others and hell breaks loose. As the film ends (spoiler alert) silhouettes of the escaped infected tear across the screen, the Eiffel Tower stands firm in the background. In other words, the insurgency, like the "rage" virus, is not contained and is likely to keep on spreading. It's a comment that predicts doom for modern politics and civilization, and therefore provides a moment of pause to consider the consequences of our current actions.
Oh my, Henry Jaglom. Director. Of American Dreams. It's my first Jaglom film, and let me say, I'm not eager for the next. It's a small story about an Iowa girl emotionally and financially beat in L.A. Margie (Tanna Frederick) is dying to be a famous actress--not just an "actress," but "famous." That's the primary distinction to be made with this character, who has no life of her own, no friends, or real sense of self, so naturally her push for fame is understandable. Fame is her permanent escape from reality. 
All the "podarillu movie songs" in mp3 format, enjoyyyyyyyyyyy, All the songs are zipped into a single file. Below is the download link
This is the only still I could find of Ebrahim Golestan's 1965 film The Brick and The Mirror, and just might be the singular one available. This is a film of supreme realism and heart, and were it available for wider release it might prove to be one of the world's top movies of all-time. It follows an Iranian taxi driver around the city after he discovers a crying baby left in the back of his cab. Unable to find the baby's mother in a shadowy, almost abstractly dark and abandoned village on the outside of town, the cabbie takes in the bundled baby. He visits a smoky supper club, replete with a brazen cabaret singer, and a philosophy-spewing table of men that's reminiscent of something Godard. (As it turns out, I recently popped in my VHS of Breathless and instantly thought of Golestan's film.) The taxi driver gets help from a female friend, a waitress who finds this as the perfect opportunity to construct a family of her own. The police are reluctant to claim the baby so it's turned over to an orphanage--perhaps the biggest regret of this would-be mother and father's relationship, which fades away with the dusky night. One of the most outstanding scenes ever seen on film takes place inside the orphanage before the film concludes, with long, curious shots of the nursery's babies bouncing and crying; subtly noticing their own performance for the quiet camera. 
Boyz n the Hood looks like Spike Lee's Do the Right Thing (1989), but transplanted in L.A. Cuba Gooding Jr. stars as the son of divorced parents, a pickle in the middle of a upwardly-mobile mother who worked her way out of the ghetto, and a moralistic but blue collar father who raises him in south central Los Angeles. It's a socially aware flick that laments the loss of young blacks to drugs, guns and gangs—worlds away from the aforementioned Lee whose films are a public display of outrage meant to incite awareness and change. In comparison, Lee is uncomfortable with a romanticized ghetto culture, but here, director John Singleton presents it as a simple fact of life. In no way does Singleton advocate gang violence and other like ailments of this youth demographic, though a sense of nostalgia about it exists nonetheless. Perhaps it was the bright color of the costume and props among the drab yellowing neighborhood that tipped me off to its melodramatic mode, and between a sexually frustrated relationship between Tre (Cuba Gooding Jr.) and his girlfriend, and a final shooting scene with one of the film's most sympathetic characters, the film truly is equal parts social picture and melodrama.
What a frightening, surreal, sometimes unintentionally funny, but overall awesome movie. It takes place in a futuristic and dystopic Manhattan island that's been converted into a criminal compound. Yes, you heard right: the entire island of Manhattan is now one massive prison cell where the criminals create their own sub-society within. It's the late 1990s—already a future of the past—and though the film isn't prophetic, it is at least a dark coincidence that the President's airplane has been hijacked and crashed into lower Manhattan. The shadows of the blacked-out skyscrapers mingle with the night sky to create an effect of eerie surrealism. Snake Plissken (Kurt Russell), a criminal himself, is sent to rescue the president who has since been captured by the criminal underground after the crash. Snake has 24 hours to glide his plane atop the World Trade Center unnoticed, maneuver his way down 50 flights of stairs (the elevator stops at floor 50), and track down the President through a barrage of litter, graffiti, and thousands of hardened criminals—the worst of whom look a lot like the undead. 
Look for my review of student filmmaker Dee Rees' amazing thesis film Pariah at Scarlett Cinema--coming very soon! Her film premiered at the First Look Film Festival in Denver, Colorado last month to rave reviews, and I feel lucky to have seen this soon-to-be-famous director's work at such an early stage. Check in at Scarlett this weekend for details.
Watch for my review in Four Magazine in the next few days!
