Review

A solid adaptation, almost slavishly true to the book, with a nod or two to the second book, one of which is frankly silly (sorry dude, that disguise ain’t fooling anyone). Eliot Sumner, progeny of Sting, playing Freddie Miles doesn’t really work for me, though I have to appreciate the stunt casting of a nepo baby in the role of an old money bon vivant, and they do successfully render the character as deeply unlikable,… See more →

My first viewing of the 2022 Criterion edition, which trims about two minutes from the theatrical cut. Only nerds who’ve seen Miller’s Crossing a million times will notice any difference, but I am one of those nerds, and while most of the cuts probably tighten up establishing shots and such, I did catch at least four lines of dialogue that were excised, one of which is a real loss (“Jesus, Tom!”). I wish filmmakers would… See more →

They Drive by Night is really two very different movies glued together, and the Depression-era working class drama is probably the objectively better half, but the pulp pleasures of the murderous noir it turns into can’t be denied. This is entirely thanks to American treasure Ida Lupino, whose scheming femme fatale chews enough scenery for the entire cast and then some. Lupino was 22 at the time and looked even younger, and while it was… See more →

👋🏻 Hi, Gen X artist in full midlife crisis mode over here, so maybe take my rating with a grain of salt, because this film spoke to me very directly.

I joked with some other folks in line about the event staff carding people at the door: Would anyone attending a Slowdive show in 2024 be under 40? I had momentarily forgotten that the kids on TikTok have in recent years made shoegaze far bigger than it’s ever been, and not only had the kids come out to pack this show, but they’d arrived early. I got there shortly after the start of Quannic’s opening… See more →

I adored Adam Elliot’s early shorts, up to and including his Oscar-winning Harvie Krumpet, but Memoir of a Snail, overloaded with schmaltz and details recycled from his previous films, seems to be methodically constructed to confirm any suspicion that he’s content to make a career of repeating himself and tugging shamelessly at shallow heartstrings.

The name of this tour, The Future Past, led me to believe it was one of those tours where Maiden would be sticking to the classic albums, which is all I really want to hear. If I had done any research at all, I would have learned that “Days of Future Past” is the name of a song on their 2021 album Senjutsu, and indeed, that album accounted for a full third of the setlist.… See more →

Too bad the franchise police put all their fingers in the pie at the end, but this is otherwise a far better crafted film than it has any right to be.

So Paul Schrader made this somewhat elegiac Exorcist prequel, and the studio rejected it and hired Renny Harlin to preside over a rewrite/reshoot, which was released in 2004 as Exorcist: The Beginning. And then that film’s poor critical and commercial performance led them to try to squeeze a few bucks out of a limited release of Schrader’s version less than a year later. And neither of the films is good. And I find the whole… See more →

Was Jerry Goldsmith the only person involved who was told the title of this film? His apocalyptic score is at 11 almost the whole time, but everything else about the film’s execution is relatively sedate, which is pretty weird considering the script includes a huge satanist rally in what looks like a volcanic crater, the systematic murder of hundreds of newborn babies, and the literal second coming of Christ. Sam Neill is probably as good… See more →

My fourth Greet Death show, and my first since singer/guitarist Harper transitioned, and it was nice to see her come out of her shell, playing more expressively in a way that maybe she felt she couldn’t before.

I watched The Omen in a double feature with The Exorcist, and in terms of overall sophistication, the juxtaposition does The Omen no favors, but it’s still a pretty fun ride, and it must be said that Satan siring a human child to clandestinely seize the world’s levers of power is a far more potent strategy for spreading evil than commandeering a tween’s body and making her throw up all over everyone.

I think I was in college when I first saw The Exorcist, by which time my resentment of the Catholicism I grew up with had calcified, and that undeniably colored my reception of the film, and still does. It’s hard for me to take seriously anyone who lives in fear of a goat-man trying to lure everyone into a flaming cave of eternal suffering, and that mythology only gets sillier when viewed through the vaudevillian… See more →

You’d never know it from the title, but this movie is kiiiiiiind of sleazy.

Not quite as good as What Have You Done to Solange?, and the ending is anticlimactic, but still a great police procedural that never stops moving and gives plenty of screen time to its motorcycle maniac with an oversized meat cleaver. One of the rare occasions I kind of wish I had watched the English-dubbed version, which might have made the copious dialogue easier to follow.

George Lazenby is great, as is all the Venetian location shooting, but the murder mystery is extremely unsatisfying, and there’s not nearly enough indulgent giallo style to compensate (with the exception of Ennio Morricone’s music, but it seems like he really just wrote a couple of themes, which are reused ad nauseam). I didn’t love Don’t Look Now either, so maybe I’m just not a grieving-parents-in-Venice kind of guy.

The more it explains itself, the less interesting it is, but damn if it isn’t otherwise very well executed.

An experiment doesn’t need to have an explicit goal, but I’m still left wondering what writer/director Chris Nash hoped to accomplish with In a Violent Nature. Slasher movies are categorically shallow affairs, and framing one from the killer’s perspective doesn’t add depth, nor do its costs (like the eradication of suspense) outweigh its benefits (of which I’m struggling to name a single one). Its approach is novel, I’ll give it that, but only insofar as… See more →

I’ve decided Stranger (rhymes with hanger) is their family name, and when they show up at a barbecue, everyone is like “Ugh, who invited the Strangers.”

Having Helter Skelter as a primary inspiration doesn’t automatically make you a hack, but if your ultimate takeaway is limited to “Wouldn’t it be scary if a bunch of weirdos randomly attacked you in your home in the middle of the night?,” you’re probably a hack. Putting the attackers in “creepy” masks removes all doubt. (That said, I haven’t seen 2006’s Them since it came out, but I remember it using these same elements to… See more →

Since Terry O’Quinn declined to return for this third, made-for-TV installment, it opens with an overlong plastic surgery sequence to explain why our title character looks completely different. At no time in that sequence do we actually see his face, and once the movie settles into yet another idyllic suburban community, there seem to be some intriguing hints that maybe we can’t be sure which of this town’s painfully average dads is the one with… See more →

Terry O’Quinn’s socially regressive Reaganite dad is pitch-perfect, and the opening scene—showing him calmly strolling through the house, past the family he just slaughtered, en route to his new identity—is a doozy. But pretty much everything else in this, including the plot, characters, and color palette, is weirdly bland. Maybe that’s meant to be its own comment on the insipidity of the 1980s’ dominant conservative nostalgia, but a better movie would have just let its… See more →

Like Fargeat’s debut, this is more successful as pulp than polemic, and its inevitably bombastic finale is a dud, but I can’t deny I enjoyed the ride, especially with an audience.

I don’t think I had seen this since the ’90s, at which time I scarcely noticed how deliriously over the top it is, with uniformly histrionic performances (including demented cameos from Gregory Peck, Robert Mitchum, and Martin Balsam, stars of the original 1962 Cape Fear) and spastic cinematography (courtesy of frequent David Lynch collaborator Freddie Francis). It’s very nearly a parody of its domestic thriller contemporaries (e.g. Fatal Attraction), ever teetering on the edge of… See more →

New favorite Saulnier joint. If Aaron Pierre isn’t the next Idris Elba, we will have failed as a civilization.

Sometimes stupid is fun and sometimes stupid is just stupid.

The joke here is that this is a Lifetime movie written by longtime SNL head writer Harper Steele and starring Will Ferrell and Kristen Wiig. Importantly, it’s not a parody of a Lifetime movie, or at least it’s not any more self-parody than any other entry in the well-worn genre. It does slightly tip its hand in a few places (especially the final scene), but mostly all involved do a surprisingly good job of playing… See more →

As I recall, you couldn’t walk into a video store in the mid-90s without tripping over multiple copies of Rumpelstiltskin, so I’m not sure how I never saw it before, apart from the fact that the period’s glut of cheap fairy tale horror never really interested me. I would not have guessed it was essentially a remake of The Terminator! I spent most of the runtime trying to figure out why the lead, Kim Johnston… See more →

Marc Bolan doesn’t deserve this.

When it’s not succumbing to self-consciously unhinged improv exercise, this is something like a feature-length maximalist update of Bruce Nauman’s Clown Torture for the reality TV age. The editor is unquestionably the MVP.

Not sure I’ve seen this since its original theatrical run, and the extra 30 minutes Tarantino added really weigh it down, but there’s still no arguing with that finale.

Nice youth culture time capsule with lots of great music, muddled by the curious inclusion of a superfluous murder mystery.

Soul Glo isn’t really my thing, but I’m not gonna tell you they didn’t burn the place down. Mannequin Pussy, not so much.

Frontwoman Marisa Dabice isn’t an especially clever lyricist, and it’s easy enough to get past when listening to the band’s records, whose sonics are more about feeling than thinking. But while the records are mercifully absent overt speechifying, this show sadly was not, and Mannequin Pussy’s emotion-to-intellect ratio is a poor fit… See more →

Maybe the most unpleasant thing I’ve ever seen. Pair with Come and See for the most upsetting double feature imaginable.

Last night I watched Anatomy of a Fall and tonight I watched this. Cinema is so much.

I made a Spotify playlist of the Love God soundtrack. Only a little over half of the songs in the film are available on Spotify, but it’s still 81 minutes of music!

I loved watching Lloyd Bridges slither all over this thing, but even if I agree with the message, I could do without the “yellow journalism bad, due process good” sanctimony of the final act.

This goes way harder than I expected, and is a significant improvement on 1947’s similar Brute Force.

On this, my third viewing, I realized that Sophie is funding her revenge activities with the cash her dad gave her so she could avoid eating on campus with the plebes.

I only found out about the Philadelphia Organ Festival the day before it started, and I’m so glad I did. I wish I could have attended more events, but if I could only make it to one, this one, “The Organ’s Modern Touch: Minimalism and Contemporary Works” was at the top of my list.

This festival being devoted to the organ, video screens were set up at either side of the sanctuary, one showing the… See more →

Bailed after 13 minutes. It’s cool that the recent animated Spider-Man movies are inspiring others to step away from the stale Pixar template, but Mutant Mayhem’s aesthetic isn’t nearly as compelling, and as much as I loved TMNT as a kid, it turns out I don’t need an umpteenth iteration.

The magnitude of Don Henley’s and Glenn Frey’s egos is inversely proportionate to how thoroughly boring they are, as musicians and as people, and this documentary’s biggest strength is its apparently unintentional spotlight on that phenomenon. As they pay breathless homage to every minute detail of the Eagles’ bland existence, there is genuine suspense to be had in wondering if any self-awareness will ever creep into the proceedings. (Spoiler: It will not.) When Joe Walsh… See more →

I’ll begin by briefly weighing in on five of the most prominent pieces of the 2023 zeitgeist, at least from where I was sitting. Some cynical vibes ahead, so feel free to skip past this part if you’re not in the mood for negative energy:

• Taylor Swift: Gen Z’s version of Beatlemania is a bit of a head-scratcher for me, since I find Taylor Swift’s music to be entirely unremarkable, but that didn’t stop her… See more →

thanks obama

I can’t say I’ve ever seen a worse idea better documented.

This whole thing is shot from the POV of Philip Marlowe, which is a bold choice, but it doesn’t work, especially since this is the most belligerent version of Marlowe I’ve ever seen. Probably my least favorite Chandler adaptation, though the one saving grace is that it lets you spend a lot of time with Audrey Totter staring directly into your eyes.

It seems to me that the most interesting aspect of the QAnon phenomenon is the extreme mass hysteria, and that therefore the most urgent question, by far, is “How are this many people this stupid?” This docuseries does not ask that question. What it does ask, over and over again, is “Who is Q?” And among the Trump era’s endless parade of grifters, opportunists, and self-satisfied keyboard warriors, I simply do not give a shit… See more →

Despite the fatalism and the hardboiled dialogue, Brute Force is more of a melodrama than the noir I expected, which wouldn’t necessarily be a problem if it were better written. I’m onboard with the film’s dim view of American prisons prioritizing punishment over rehabilitation, which I gather was an uncommon criticism for 1947, but its habit of nakedly editorializing via the monologues of its prison doctor—sometimes looking directly into the camera—make it feel like a… See more →

Incredibly funny until it decides not to be.

Late last year, my friend Jon (without an h) told me his high school buddy John (with an h) was putting together a band to play Misfits and Danzig tunes for Porchella, the annual Halloween band crawl in Irvington, the town in New York’s Hudson Valley where John lives. John on drums and Jon on guitar. Did I want in? As anyone who has ever spent more than five seconds with me knows, fronting a… See more →

This is the most utterly baffling expression of human creativity I have ever seen.