In which we say hello to science fiction & wish a fond farewell to one of our beloved editor
Midnight Special asks us to like worrying about the characters. There’s a tapestry of details missing, a logic inherently gone, but I cannot overemphasize enough how much that isn’t the point. It’s a fable. It’s a story. It’s a movie.
In Another Earth I found grace: a quiet meditation on self-forgiveness, on remaking oneself after trauma.
In the early 1980's, director Carl Reiner and comedian Steve Martin collaborated on two films that challenged the laws of physics.
Jennifer Phang's Advantageous shows us a future that has recoiled from the prospect of aging.
In Danny Boyle's Sunshine the consequences of each new choice tumble forward like dominoes, resulting in a slow death march to the surface of the sun.
Super 8 understands that adults aren’t all that different from children; beneath the pretension and pragmatism, we want the same things: to be safe, to belong, to be loved.
I have begun to suspect that boys who grew up with mothers like mine—or responsible grown men who have made their way through a world inhabited by mothers like mine—have started making movies reflective of that experience.
Richard Lester's The Bed-Sitting Room (1969) and the Dream of London at the End of the World
On Ridley Scott's Blade Runner
