Michael Marano
David Robert Mitchell’s affectionate, unsettling return to an early-’80s Detroit suburb brings Spielbergian wonder and suburban anxiety into collision—though its dinosaur-driven black comedy eventually wears thin.
The webslinger’s new outing has the cameos, the conspiracy, and the corporate logic. What it doesn’t have is heart.
Director Travis Knight’s self-aware reboot turns Reagan-era toy marketing into a surprisingly sharp, character-driven comedy about power, nostalgia, and growing up.
Curry Barker’s debut turns dating, consent, and loneliness into a bleak and deeply felt horror tragedy.
Director James Cameron’s 3D concert film captures the awe, pressure, and near-religious devotion of Billie Eilish’s fanbase.
This year’s Independent Film Festival Boston kicks off this week, and it offers a grand selection of must-see indie films that set audiences free from the soulless product of corporate franchises.
Vicky Osterweil examines how Unca Walt’s empire imposes a politically dangerous, patriarchal form of homogenization across all its intellectual properties—from the Marvel Cinematic Universe to cartoons, to “Star Wars” films and shows, and to amusement park “experiences.”
AIDS made us strangers in our own lives. It took our world and made it foreign, putting us in the same socio-cultural no-man’s-land where “Alpha”‘s immigrant family is struggling.
I’m thinking that a one-person performance of “Hamlet” by a Brit transwoman might get under Trump’s necrotic skin.
Arts Commentary: Superman, Spider-Man, and the American Art of Slugging Nazis
William Nicholas Love’s punch heard round the internet belongs to a long comic-book history of fighting homegrown fascism—from Captain America to “The Clan of the Fiery Cross.”
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