Sundance’s strengths for me this year (as in the past) were the festival’s documentaries.
“Everybody in this industry right now is looking for like, female beards to rescue them, but that’s not what we’re here for.”
I Blame Society may put off some enlightened neoliberals, but it is a fun little B-movie with killer insight and attitude to spare.
It is difficult to think of a harder-working actor or one more devoted to his craft.
The excitement of these films – perhaps the word frisson would not be amiss – is that these women are envisioned as explorers in the land of Eros, map-makers of new terrain, discovering and inventing love as they go.
What we need is to see the world through the eyes of Black activists, even though that might be frightening to White audiences reluctant to deal with the unmediated truth.
A B-movie inspired horror-comedy, Psycho Goreman is a delightfully schlocky homage to entry-level, kid-centric horror films but with the sort of grotesque violence one would expect from a more adult-oriented movie.
Censor explores thought-provoking questions about the strange relationships between films, society, fantasy, and reality — and individual identity — in an increasingly mediated and violent world.
An intriguing look at smashing the patriarchy through the art of pole dancing.
The Cameraman is the hilarious capstone to a glorious period that began for Buster Keaton in the late teens.