Bill Forsyth’s 1983 masterpiece Local Hero is perhaps the greatest film ever made about attuning to the frequency of a place, of someone fitting in when and where they least expected.
I felt drawn to Stand by Me in a way I had never been drawn to a movie before, longing each day to reimmerse myself in this soft-focused sun-dappled boy’s idyll. But still I wonder: what parts of me did this movie speak to?
This is what 3 Idiots offers us, a swift removal of the veil, suggesting that if we skim away societal expectations, we might rescue a pure, energizing freedom.
As adults, most of us revisit these movies no longer as part of the horror genre, but instead as a nostalgic indulgence; as the last group of teenagers who came of age by VHS, the ‘90s teen horror cycle resurrected by Scream symbolizes our collective coming-of-age experience.
On Judy Berlin (1999) and Madeline Kahn's best, most nuanced, and final performance.
The languid pacing of Jacques Tati's Playtime forces us to be present in the moment, to look around and observe this cinematic world, to simply be.
The Band’s Visit lets us know, right from the start, that what happens here may be small and quiet, but it matters. It may not seem like it on the surface. It won't change the world. It may not even change the lives of the characters within it. But, even so, it matters.
It is the first day of summer 1962 in Paris, and it is a beautiful day, and for Cléo, everything is falling apart.
The Last Black Man in San Francisco is a love letter to its city.
Anyone who has ever enjoyed (or endured) a long weekend with friends will recognize the melody of A Bigger Splash.
Lynn Shelton’s camera in Humpday is a scalpel, opening the flesh of male-on-male anxiety with precision and nuance.
Part of what makes Jesse and Céline’s connection so electric is the difference between being heard and being understood. When you feel understood, it feels like the first and most important time you’ve told the story. You feel like you’re alone in the world together.
