Memories are like polaroid photos in reverse, gradually un-developing. Fuzzy reflections in the black screen of an unused television. They’re distorted half-truths, incomplete pictures colored by emotion and perception and time. It’s a flawed system but it’s what we have.
Charlotte Wells’ Aftersun is a film grappling with memory. It’s the story of a woman (Sophie) trying to remember and understand her father (Calum) by focusing on a vacation they went on when she was a girl. Everything we see…
Nelly observes her mother. This is what we are shown as the film begins. Nelly sits in the car and watches from a distance as her parents speak to each other. Nelly tries to glean how her mother is feeling from the backseat, catching glimpses of eyes in the rearview mirror. Nelly sits on her grandmother's hospital bed and watches her mother gaze out the window, only able to see her from behind. So many of these early shots of the…
What an incredible film. As good as any of the other acclaimed 1970s masterpieces, I think. John Huston was really out there making American kitchen sink realism, goddamn. I love a few of his films, but I didn't know he had this type of movie in him.
Fat City is a film unafraid to examine the harsh realities of working class life. Or the ugly downward spiral of alcoholism. Or the unforgiving world of boxing, where we see young Ernie’s…
“You’re almost family!”
But not quite. We love you, and if you need anything at all, let us know. But during the party this evening, you’ll need to confine yourself to the kitchen, only coming out to circulate the hors d'oeuvres. You’ve been with our family for years and years, you mean the world to us. However, there are certain lines you cannot cross. The pool is off limits, family and guests only. Thank you for cooking such a wonderful…
Christopher Nolan is a master of craft. No denying it. The cinematography, the sound, the set design, the score, the costumes, the performances - all top notch. I can appreciate that level of craft. Still, I don’t know how I feel about the movie. Maybe I’m still too close to it. To be honest I’m not sure what to write, exactly. Still processing. I don’t think I liked it very much.
I’m less interested in the traditional biopic tropes found…
On an island like Inisherin where there are no more trees, the sound of a banshee’s wailing will carry far, catching the wind and expanding out over the hills like a ripple from a stone dropped in a pond. To hear the faint yet piercing sound of mournful crying in the distance is to receive a warning. Death is coming.
The myth of the wailing banshee is a distinctly Irish one. It grew out of the noises made by professional…
