Gerald Peary
The first three films I watched at SXSW this year were picked by me with the editors in mind. Not coincidentally, the editors also had pedigreed Massachusetts roots.
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Greta is a slight, uninspired by-the-numbers genre film — we’ve seen this paranoia-inducing tale too often.
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It is safe to predict that the winner in this category will be one of the entries that squares off against mortality.
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Shame on you, Academy, for such feeble, uninspired, downer picks.
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Not since Michelangelo Antonioni’s Blow-Up and L’Aventura has there been such a mesmerizing tale of the more you look, the less you find out.
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How will PC New Englanders react to seeing nutria gunned down by hunters, and some bashed on their heads to make sure they are dead?
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Reading is treated as a commodity, namedropping literary titles as a way for middlebrow film audiences to feel proud of themselves for being in the know.
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The Lady from Shanghai is a black comedy of manners, a “film noir” near-masterpiece.
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Sylvain Chomet’s sublime 2004 feature is a shimmering, knowing homage to the beginnings of sound animation.
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Arts Commentary: My Blackface Confession
Did I try to fit in at my segregated school, betraying my father and his values to be a popular white boy?
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