The Photographer (2000)
A year after becoming the toast of New York City's art scene, photographer Max Martin has lost his ability to take a decent picture. On the night before his make-or-break gallery opening, surrounded by the trappings of success but devoid of inspiration, Max embarks on a bizarre trek through the city in search of ten mysterious photographs that could save his career. Shot in brilliant color and dramatic black and white, first-time director Jeremy Stein's industrial New York City is a wonderland, roamed by witches and magical creatures, where survival hinges on the completion of a simple quest. Accompanied by an unlikely crew of strangers he meets along the way, Max trips through a modern-day Oz and rediscovers the easily forgotten value of seeing magic reflected in everyday life.
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How sad is this?
In truth, there is barely enough story here to make a film.
This is one of the few movies I've ever seen where the whole audience broke into spontaneous, loud applause a third of the way in.
The film's masterful storytelling did its job. The message was clear. No need to overdo.