The onslaught of Nazi think is personified on-stage, with Unsworth's unforgiving light and art director Tony Walton's bubbly, twisting mylar as backdrop. The film's off-stage moments are shot in a fuzzy, nostalgic haze...until the inevitable becomes evitable.
Rotunno's photography transmogrifies before our eyes, from classic 40s setups (in unusual widescreen) to slick 70s coldness.
Romanticism in extrema.
The hard-nosed early diagram for so many boxing movies.
Utilizing the then-new possibilities of digital photography, Lubezki revolutionizes the unbroken shot, while still keeping it gorgeous to witness.
The noir film is given a jolt of color, always remaining true to its history.
The movie that taught us all. It taught us all.
A battleground use of color and perfect framing.
Blues and yellows mix together, and end up in a greenish, fairy-taled, CGI-sickening hellhole.
As is the case with Eric Rohmer's works (for which Alamendros was a key player), the idyllic countryside becomes a metaphor for the female body.
A strikingly hued early De Mille spectacle, and an Oscar winner.
Dappled with light and hue, the long-masculine epic now becomes feminine.
Special effects and lush photography--set against deserts, fields, mountains, houses, cities and space--unite for perhaps the first time.
The capture of both the rural and the less rural, in striking blues and browns.
Shot after shot, you can hardly believe what you are seeing. Utterly unique in every way.
Stark, sharp angles and bold coloring accompany one man's decent into fascism.
Gorgeous primary-colored widescreen interiors and sharp exteriors highlight another of Coutard's indispensable collaborations with Godard.
Decadence and disgust, filmed with glory.
Every--and I mean every--shot is a stunner.
Ardent, elegant blood reds highlight this Oscar-winning turn from Bergman and Nykvist.
A prime example of expressive documentary cinematography.
Muller's faux-documentary style takes a leap with this schizophrenic melodrama that, in its musical sequences, utilizes the gaze of a hundred cameras.
A wild, threatening dream world is made alive through Wolski's stunning camerawork.
Vacano's camera seeps in the harsh lighting and crushing claustrophobia of submarine life like no other movie has before or since.
Arguably the most beautiful movie ever filmed; NOTE: my choice for the greatest cinematography of all time.
The expressive influence of silent moviemakers in soaked up in Muller's work for this, one of the creepiest of westerns.
Chapman perfectly matches the work of studio-era cameramen; his work can be seen side-by-side here with noir masters, without a hiccup.
Suschitzsky's first in a long series of collaborations with Cronenberg, and perhaps his best; the film is filled with gloriously rich primary colors hauntingly tinted with the blackness of the film's tale. Plus, the film, pre-CGI, revolutionized the use of split screen photography in crafting the illusion of its twin leads.
Kuveiller's camera jets from impossible close-ups to gorgeous long shots with a notable nimbleness.
Stomach-churning yellows and greens vividly illustrate this cannibalistic, post-apocalypse landscape.
Zsigmond's camera sojourns so easily from idyllic weekend sightseeing to nightmarish frays.
Action photography at its most athletic and adept.
Through Billy Wilder's direction, Seitz's camera captures a man who;s already caught.
The undead, come to life, with creepy backgrounds and strong key lighting from German master Karl Freund.
Bright yellows and reds memorably dapple this almost dreamlike tale of lust in the dust.
John Alcott's groundbreaking work with Barry Lyndon sees its closest compatriot in Tidy's expressive and absolutely transportative work.
The cinematographer had a bearish task here: how to deal with widescreen photography in a crushingly claustrophobic setting. Mellor--who'd been used to filming in wide-open spaces with John Ford's westerns--really challenged himself here, to astonishing effect.
The comic strip actually comes to vivid life under Storaro's tutelage.
The masterful Janusz Kaminsky outdoes himself, with impossible images concocted in collusion with director Julian Schnabel's inventive guidance, to tell a story that many thought could not be portrayed on film.
A red hot day in 80s Brooklyn is given a searing countenence. One of the most vivacious examples of cinematography out there.
The freezing, oppressive climate of revolutionary Russia is lit with the warm romanticism of an affair gone awry in this, another of director David Lean's jaw-dropping collaborations with the singular Freddie Young.
The bayous, cityscapes and prison cells of New Orleans, in articulate blacks, whites and greys.
A majestic early color cinematography Oscar winner, in service of director John Ford.