Three seemingly dissimilar works are united by three seemingly diffuse concepts that all lead back to the same place: the unique capacity of film to evoke some of the mind’s most indescribable sensations.
Had the lives of George Lucas and David Lynch gone differently, we would be awash in a stranger, more inexplicable type of American movie.
My brother and his wife returned from the haunted house. It had been named something ridiculous like The Retribution or The Reaping. I had stayed home with the baby, watching a program that explored the possibilities of a prehistoric New York City. The baby liked the part where Mastodons marched...
