Marnie, In Which Hitchcock Rapes His Audience
Late period Hitchcock is not for the weak of heart.
Late period Hitchcock is not for the weak of heart.
In which I list every movie I watched during 2015, because who doesn’t love a good list?
Neither cartoon nor meta-commentary on itself, The Hateful Eight is something crazier still: a good movie.
I know, but hear me out–it’s a REALLY BIG Death Star, right? It’s just so, so, so BIG this time. You see? No way it blows up again. I promise.
Plunge into an eastern European rabbit-hole, don’t forget your enchanted pearl, and watch out for chickens, priests, and polecats.
At long last, the Alamo Drafthouse arrives in San Francisco to show us some movies.
A sad, sad story of an artist eaten alive.
A cinematic ode to a movie director’s ode to a movie director.
Rocky’s past comes back to be trained. Boxing ensues.
Gilliam writes a memoir from beyond the grave. The grave which he is not in. Because he’s still alive. Or so he would have us believe.
There’s not much of a show to steal, but what there is, the moustache makes off with.
In which we pit Dennis Hopper and John Malkovich against one another in a fight to the death.
Another Bond movie exists. What more can you say?
A big strange movie you might have let slip by, at least in this life. In a parallel universe, you’ve seen it twenty times.