Tony Scott is one of my guilty pleasures, though I resent the expectation that I ought to feel guilty about liking his movies (post-2000 especially). That’s why I loved reading Christoph Huber and Mark Peranson’s review of Deja Vu and Scott’s filmography alike. Their piece in Cinema Scope uses his latest movie as its point of reference but–reflecting the structure of a Scott film–it is regularly interspersed with a critical re-examination of the rest of his usually maligned oeuvre.
With the subtitle “Tony Scott’s Vertigo” I couldn’t not read it, and I was rewarded with a series of provocative but always supportable claims (“A quick comparison of their early shorts proves which Scott was going to be the pompous artiste and which one the grand entertainer”). Whether you’re a misotonist or a philoscott, I trust their piece will repay your reading.