Arts Fuse Editor
Filmgoers hankering for some excellent and exciting new documentary features and shorts should check out the Salem Film Festival, which has gone online.
The parallel plot — maybe the real plot — percolates just below the surface: the meta-textual challenge of figuring out how the HBO Perry Mason will morph into something resembling its CBS progenitor.
What makes this somewhat derivative movie soar is its music.
Ah, Florida, “the grease trap under America’s George Foreman Grill”: not just “weird America,” also “impending America.”
Cloud Nothings’ latest effort is less muscular than their previous work, but it still contains its fair share of hooky bliss.
Every piece here seems to play by its own rhythmic rules, and yet nowhere does the music sound academic or formal.
Freed from the pressures of recording for a major label, Kacy Hill has created an album that feels surprisingly personal.
If the first set was all about reminding us the breadth and depth of the talent in Billy Strings’ combo, the second set was all about dynamics and power.
Roy Cohn was much more pernicious than Joe McCarthy because he was far more adept at undercutting the relevance of so-called American values.
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