A terrifically significant, and eccentric, trio of films are turning 50 this year: Marjoe, Pink Flamingos, and Silent Running.
David Lynch’s Inland Empire is a provocative challenge to filmmaking as a medium of visual storytelling that’s largely gone unmatched in the sixteen years since its initial release.
Two dark comedies explore American and British subcultures far below the line of decency.
The album serves up exceptional stuff, even if the program’s a touch macabre and pianist Orion Weiss’s well-written liner notes make uncomfortable connections between the world of pre-World War 1 Europe and our own pandemic-riddled age.
Trampling on the expectations of his fans, of course, is a big part of what makes Joe Jackson the singular talent he is — and most of his admirers wouldn’t have it any other way.
The cast for this Boston Lyric Opera production was first-rate, and composer Terence Blanchard has worked in a wide variety of jazz styles and shifts gears to keep the score swinging throughout.
This novel of ideas reads like an essay narrated in the first-person by a self-absorbed automaton.
What might be the most impressive feature of this disc: everything on it was written for The Claremont Trio since 2008. The album stands as a shining testament to their adeptness as an ensemble as well as their curiosity as musicians.
I wish I could state unequivocally that this is a film perfect for this moment in time, and perhaps it is. But not in a good way.
Graphic novels are wonderfully suited to chronicle the lives and times of artists, designers, architects, and even creative institutions.