Since the beginning of human existence, man has been searching for different ways for recreation. He has been looking for something that gives a little break from his exhausting schedule of day to day life. Movies have come forward as a great way of recreation since around a century. It has been one of the most loved pastimes since its inception. Everyone today is more or less connected to the movies. When we see certain incidences shown in movies that we can relate to we naturally let them influence our mind-set and thought process. Some even idealize certain characters and scenarios from the movies. Some want their personality and life to be just like the life of the movie character they idealize. Some people get so hooked on to these characters that they become an integral part of their life.

Of such movies of various genres, certain authors from The Guardian pick their favourite bits of cinema all through the years. Among them there were some interrupting portions which seemed to spoil the two – three hour slot. To list a few of them below,

Ryan Gosling's First Man premieres Neil Armstrong biopic (ew.com)

• The final descent – First Man

Starring Gosling as Neil Armstrong, the movie made waves on the festival circuit, and landed in Boston theatres. In the landing sequence, Damien Chazelle builds tension through marvellous editing and one of composer Justin Hurwitz’s circular themes. The effects were so intense, it sets us idol starring at each and every single movement. Some dialogues go meaningless, where one could not understand why it is been told. Simultaneously, Hurwitz’s second theme charges in counter-melody, the push-pull of triumph and death. The scale of it takes your breath away. 

• The beach – Roma

Witnessing those final scenes of Alfonso Cuarón’s ‘Roma’, as the domestic worker Cleo struggles through a violent and thunderous rip current to retrieve her employer’s drowning children. The feel touched by astonishment, terror and the sublime all at once. It’s the most aural and harrowing sequence in the year’s most remarkable film, an embarrassment of sensory and emotional riches. Critics say it is unfocused and muddled, a shallow adaptation of the novel it is based on. The scenes portray of a fractured family in the upper middle-class suburbs of Mexico City in the early 1970s. The first two hours of the film may have a break into one’s memory yet; Cleo’s fearless, humane journey into the sea shakes you awake.

• The shooting – Widows

The movie screens a spectacular mature relationship which slowly discovers betrayal. Viola Davis portrays her role of Veronica in her apartment where she wakes up in shock to find the bed empty, which has been painfully raw. Harry (Liam Neeson) appears like a ghost at the film’s climax to undo all her hard work, and mock all that emotional pain and no wonder Veronica’s revenge is as unlikely as it is fully deserved. It is been told that each time Veronica shoots, the crowd has cheered her on.

• The singsong – You Were Never Really Here

An early shot in Lynne Ramsay‘s ‘You Were Never Really Here’ shows a door handle in a dingy hotel on which hangs a battered sign: Do Not Disturb. It is advice Ramsay herself thrillingly fails to take with her astounding fourth feature, in which she disturbs, deconstructs and dumbfounds in equal measure. Joe (Joaquin Phoenix) is an ex-soldier and ex-FBI agent. He lives with his aging mother (Judith Roberts) in Queens and now makes an off-the-books living as a contract killer, whose specialty is rescuing children from sexual exploitation, by any means necessary and often with quite a bit more force than is strictly required. He is drafted in to rescue Nina, the teenage daughter of a politician, who is being kept in a New York brothel, but no sooner does he complete the job, than her father is found dead and she is taken again. But Ramsay has made a film that burns so much brighter and cuts so much deeper than any such story has a right to.

• The last drink – Can You Ever Forgive Me?

A deeply felt and riotously enjoyable tale of forgery in early 90s New York, many of which involve Melissa McCarthy and Richard E Grant drunkenly scheming and bitching in a West Village gay bar. Their friendship anchors the film between the two without any real sentimentality. In the climax they end their fun together, along with an awareness of the AIDS crisis that’s attacked their community. All of a sudden, the screens are filled with sadness. They view each other into their eyes that it hits harder, ending such a wonderful journey.