On Pedro Almodóvar's Talk to Her (2002), a theology of miracles, equivocal goods and equivocal evils, romantic possibility, and miraculous recovery.
Veronica and Chad are joined by writer and Powell's Books managing editor Kelsey Ford to talk about Pedro Almodóvar’s "wildly tender" exploration of autobiography and artistic process, Pain and Glory.
Underneath its reputation, unseen and unloved, Hal Ashby's 8 Million Ways to Die is also a kind of secret miracle, one of the best L.A. crime films most have never given half a chance.
C’mon C’mon isn’t necessarily about making the world as a whole comprehensible to a child. It’s about grappling with how comprehensible to make one key fact: his mom isn’t with him because his dad is having a manic episode.
On Chris Rock's Top Five and how difficult it can be to know exactly where the show ends and the reality begins.
I was not terrified of being Deaf. I knew what it felt like.
On Kogonada’s After Yang and its depiction of grief, love, belonging, and the lovely, wounding ache of memory.
Hush shows us the disabled experience, even if it never comments on it. Hush cares about its protagonist, but not the community to which she belongs.
Alfonso Cuarón’s Children of Men is about hope lost, but it’s also about hope willfully recovered.
As a recovering addict, it’s a complicated thing, this desire to “see” myself on the screen.










