In Howl’s Moving Castle, food is more than just a necessity—it sustains life, in every sense of the phrase: helping a body hold skin and sinew together, while acting as an expression of love and care. Read More
The meals in Gillian Robespierre’s Obvious Child and Landline are not extravagant as dining experiences, but they are meaningful as relational ones: small, comforting rituals that provide a moment of constancy amidst chaos. Read More
On Food and Grief in A Ghost Story and Certain Women Read More
Bruno Bozzetto’s version of evolution in Allegro Non Troppo is a death march—a story of food chasing food. Read More
Both visually and textually, Cries and Whispers is concerned with exteriors and interiors, with surfaces and what seethes beneath them. Read More
Harriet Andersson’s contributions to Bergman’s oeuvre cannot be understated—her fearlessness about her body within a performance allowed her to create something both fierce and distinctive. Read More
What Persona produces, onscreen and in its critics, is more than the sum of its narrative parts. Read More
The stories we encounter as children never quite leave us; they shape and color everything that comes afterward. Read More
On the twisted war of influence in Yorgos Lanthimos' The Favourite. Read More
In Bergman's work, boats tend to function as the escape hatch that is never opened, the getaway car that is never put into drive, the dream that, were it to actually set sail, would capsize under the weight of the gilded burden of escapism. Read More
Ingmar Bergman's second film is a tonally-daring Expressionist chiaroscuro of broken lives attempting to escape a rain-soaked nightworld of broken dreams. Read More
As a play, a film, and a television series, Scenes from a Marriage examines a relationship in brutally exacting, loving detail. Read More