Nicole Veneto
Why bother giving big-budget Hollywood projects to up-and-coming Black filmmakers if they’re just going to be neutered and cut to shit before release?
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Evangelion is my personal Rosetta Stone, allowing me to decipher everything from psychoanalytic theory and gender relations to my very own understanding of trauma and the world in which I inhabit.
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Though it’s classified as a comedy, Shiva Baby utilizes many of the stylistic trademarks found throughout the horror genre to merge painfully humorous discomfort with suffocatingly atmospheric terror.
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1971 gave us bursts of magnificent cinematic iconoclasm that had no future — culturally or politically.
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Violation utilizes extreme violence not to revel in a revenge fantasy but to deconstruct the genre’s militantly feminist appeal — “kill your rapist” — as a self-destructive endeavor offering no catharsis whatsoever.
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Come True squanders all of its narrative potential in favor of an awkward and poorly developed romance and a “twist” ending even M. Night Shyamalan would scoff at.
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Jumbo is one of the most magically affecting and visually enthralling romances I’ve seen in quite some time
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“Everybody in this industry right now is looking for like, female beards to rescue them, but that’s not what we’re here for.”
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I Blame Society may put off some enlightened neoliberals, but it is a fun little B-movie with killer insight and attitude to spare.
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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.
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