Sick of hearing me talk about Lemon? Tough noogies: Here’s more of me talking about Lemon, this time in conversation with Janicza Bravo and Brett Gelman. Bravo directed the thing; Gelman starred in the thing; they both wrote the thing together. It’s a good thing! (The movie, I mean. The interview is a good thing, too, though, … Continue reading
As a rule, I’m okay with bad things happening to characters in movies, whether they’re supporting types or leads. I’m not really okay with bad things happening to characters in movies for no other reason than to wound the audience, and that’s more or less how Bushwick approaches the delicate matter of sorting out character arcs. It’s … Continue reading
There’s a component of familiarity in Beach Rats, a movie about a young man performing heteronormative masculinity, but the familiarity is muffled by Eliza Hittman’s directing style; she’s one of a kind, and so is her movie, the first she’s made in the last few years after debuting with the superb It Felt Like Love. Beach Rats … Continue reading
If you could have a perfect holographic image of your late lover, whether your husband, wife, boyfriend, girlfriend, or some undefinable fling, stored on a hard drive, and if you could talk to that image whenever you please, and if that image could learn about the person it reflects and become more and more like … Continue reading
Here it is, at long last (that is, if you think six months qualifies as “long”): My review of Janicza Bravo’s excellent debut feature film, Lemon, a chronicle of defective but self-aggrandizing whiteness, starring Bravo’s husband Brett Gelman (also serving here as co-writer; they’re a real team). There are reasons and then some why I like … Continue reading
I missed Columbus at this year’s Independent Film Festival Boston, so of course I was thrilled to catch up with it for its theatrical release. I was even more thrilled to find that it’s lovely, poetic, and just plain old great. At a glance, I expected the film to follow along expected plot lines, but I … Continue reading
I took a trip to Spain back in May, during Independent Film Festival Boston, which is just a cutesy-poo way of saying that I saw The Trip to Spain, Michael Winterbottom’s third entry in his The Trip series, orchestrated with and starring Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon. As with the other Trip movies, I liked this one. But it … Continue reading
I really don’t even know how to account for this movie, guys. I wish I knew who in their right mind thought making a movie about fucking goddamn emojis was a sound idea, though “right mind” is likely being generous; whoever came up with this pitch was probably coked out of their minds and on … Continue reading
Hey, uh, Jessica Williams: On the off chance you read my review of your new movie, The Incredible Jessica James, don’t take it personally. I liked you fine! I just didn’t like anything else about the movie! Except maybe Chris O’Dowd! And Noël Wells! Okay, mostly I just didn’t like the direction, because I think James … Continue reading
In stark contrast to Kuso, that really gross movie I reviewed the other day, here’s my review of Damien Power’s Killing Ground over at Paste Magazine, which is arguably harsher while being much less offensive to watch. This is something I struggle with frequently as a critic and as an all-around cinephile: What is, and isn’t, offensive, and … Continue reading
I have no further words for Kuso, the first feature from Flying Lotus, aka Steve Ellison, because I expended them all while writing my review of the film for The Playlist. Suffice to say: It’s something else. As you’ll no doubt gather from the piece’s opening paragraph, I have a high threshold for fucked up movies, … Continue reading
If you’ve not seen a single Alejandro Jodorowsky film, from El Topo to The Holy Mountain, Santa Sangre to Tusk, or his last movie, 2013’s The Dance of Reality, then don’t worry: His latest, Endless Poetry, is totally accessible and understandable, no matter that you have no idea who Jodorowsky is, do you? Do you?! You disgust me. …so yeah, please read my review of Endless Poetry! … Continue reading
“What a fun lark,” said my frosted side after watching Luc Bondy’s False Confessions. “Is this sort of story still worth recycling in 2017?” said my whole wheat side while stroking his beard. Maybe I’m being a spoilsport here, but sitting through False Confessions, I couldn’t help but wonder at its basic conceit and whether it’s really … Continue reading
The last Lone Scherfig thing I saw was 2015’s The Riot Club, and I don’t mind saying that her latest film, Their Finest, is a step up from that. (Not that The Riot Club is bad or anything. I just wish she’d gotten to the point faster, though years later I wonder if that’s a burn on me … Continue reading
Tramps, to me, represents the double-edged sword of Netflix; with it, filmmakers like Adam Leon get to work, but they also don’t get to show their movies in actual theaters. I don’t know how I feel about that. (Wait: Yes I do! Bad. I feel bad about that.) If that’s the trade-off for Leon making … Continue reading
It’s possible that I’m being too combative about all of the cultural inquiry made into Sofia Coppola’s new film, The Beguiled, in my review (written, as ever, for Paste Magazine). I’m not entirely sure. What I am sure of is that the structure of the conversation surrounding the film is symptomatic of the major ills afflicting … Continue reading
It’s rare that a single movie becomes the prism through which I view every other piece of popular culture I engage with in a given year; this is partly because movies capable of being that prism come along but rarely, and partly because when they do, they don’t typically appear in theaters during February, previously … Continue reading
(What do any of these movies have in common with each other? Little and less, but maybe you can draw some links from one to the other to the third, especially between the first and the last in the round-up. Or maybe not. There’s not much that gooey indie dramedies, harsh crime stories, and acid-trip … Continue reading
I’m not sure what else can be said about The Book of Henry after the Internet gave it a straight-up, bewildered drubbing, but that won’t stop me from sharing the review I cobbled together for Paste Magazine. I don’t mind saying that this, Colin Trevorrow’s choice of post-Jurassic World, pre-Jurassic World 2, pre-Star War:s Episode IX work, … Continue reading
I’m a man with an iron stomach, but even I came close to blowing chunks during stretches of Hardcore Henry, so the idea of taking on another film shot through a first-person perspective might make me sound amnesic. But Kill Switch isn’t Hardcore Henry, not simply for lack of gratuitous violence (and gratuitous Sharlto Copley performances) but for … Continue reading
A Constant Visual Feast 