Film diary

Last month I described Birdman – unfavorably – as a “series of carefully scripted temper tantrums meant to embody the struggle of making capital ‘A’ Art.” I wouldn’t have guessed that a short time later, another film fitting that description would knock me on my ass.

Whiplash is a trenchant examination of greatness, approaching the idea not by deconstructing a success story, but instead by observing an integral moment in the life of someone who … See more →

Yowza, this thing stressed me the fuck out.

There’s not enough good stuff here to sustain an entire 75-minute special, but Chelsea generally keeps things moving at a good clip, so the lulls between the more satisfying laughs are never too long, and her style strikes a nice balance between sardonic and wacky, which elevates even her weakest jokes. The writing and directing tries to mess with the traditional standup form by adding lots of weird non-sequiturs – mostly quick, scripted cuts to… See more →

A technically adroit series of carefully scripted temper tantrums meant to embody the struggle of making capital “A” Art, Birdman pays lip service to the nuance that accompanies authenticity, but it tends to make its points as loudly as possible. This is probably about as good as overwrought showbiz navel gazing gets, and it’s still pretty off-putting.