There’s an old adage in the music industry that a band has a lifetime to write, assemble, and record songs for its very first record, but only a handful of months to put together its second.
In Being John Malkovich, the appearance of things working out or making sense is a signal to be uneasy.
On Upstream Color: I see you. Do you see me.
A film as ambiguous as Barton Fink invites multiple readings.
Eyes Wide Shut is the cinematic equivalent of a premeditated coitus interruptus.
To the Wonder shows Oklahoma in the ways I’ve learned to see it in the decade since I’ve left—beautiful, expansive, and empty.
What is most enticing about Julie Taymor's Titus is the images, even without context.
Few films have slipped so entirely under my skin—and changed the way I experience the world—as Picnic at Hanging Rock.
You adjust the bowtie on your tuxedo. I’m at Cannes, a fucking dream come true.
