Review
The Dig is suffused with a very English (and problematic) sense of history: why it matters, how it can be taken for granted, and the odd way that certain elements of the past are valorized while others are kept buried.
This film offers a much more nuanced and self-reflective conversation about authorship, authenticity, creative inspiration, and the role of film criticism than any of its detractors are willing to admit.
Defiant and tonally offbeat, French Exit mirrors, in a sense, its female protagonist, who doesn’t give a damn what the world thinks of her.
Sundance’s strengths for me this year (as in the past) were the festival’s documentaries.
Crime Scene: The Vanishing at the Cecil Hotel makes for a gripping watch, one of Netflix’s finest true crime documentary series.
Few writers can generate as much tension in so few pages as Pamela Painter.
Art and Faith should be widely read — its delightful wisdom and clarity underlines our culture’s desperate need to make things new.
There are some smartly colored and well-handled performances here, but it’s hard to get past the recording’s unsatisfactory acoustics.
I Blame Society may put off some enlightened neoliberals, but it is a fun little B-movie with killer insight and attitude to spare.
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.
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