The moment I always return to isn’t one of Videodrome’s spectacular set pieces, but it is what I consider the film’s Cronenberg turn: the instant you understand that that’s what you’re watching, where the film admits its appetite for what bodies can stand and do.
A new crop of female auteurs is challenging The Male Gaze.
In George Washington, David Gordon Green uses time the way a painter might use negative space—he shapes our understanding of what we’re seeing, not through a series of plot points, but by giving us moments that, taken alone, seem random or incidental.
Though we continue to revere stories like The Wizard of Oz as folklore, 2018 demands that we revisit the canon—our cultural body of work—while reckoning with the entertainment industry’s brutal legacy of abuse.
Johnny Knoxville’s presence as a star has a lot to do with the desire of young men to test their bodies—not in rituals that prove their manhood, but in experiments that question its elasticity, its dexterity, its fluidity.
Goon is the rare sports film that loves it subject and is smart enough not to romanticize it.
Two years into my struggle with mental illness, I discovered The Virgin Suicides. While a team of psychiatrists struggled to diagnose me, and my school struggled to teach me, a movie was helping me make sense of my mind.
Through a combination of live-action and stop-motion, Jan Švankmajer’s Alice leans into the unsettling nature of assemblage.
As film is primarily a visual artform, a film series presents us with the most in-depth way to view and examine the aging process in art.
On slapstick, body horror, and Weekend at Bernie’s II.
More than any other Alien movie, David Fincher's Alien 3 is aware of Ripley’s existence as a woman, and the unique and universal horrors that come with the territory of inhabiting a woman’s body.
Pet Sematary is not a movie that cares about your sensitivities. What it does care about, to the point of obsession, is bodies—and the horrors that can befall them.