N. Richard Nash’s novel Cry Macho has kicked around as a Hollywood option since the 1970s; Nick Schenk’s script sounds like it, and Clint Eastwood’s direction treats it as such. There’s a comfort, albeit an eerie one, watching this adaptation. Its approach to character and visual storytelling — Eastwood fans during the Every Which WayContinue reading “In Clint Eastwood’s ‘Cry Macho,’ gentleness is its own reward”
Time travel movies get a bad reputation. Back to the Future set an impossibly high standard: entertaining and easy to grasp. Since then, every movie using time travel as a story element has been subject to endless comparison; Back to the Future established a set of rules that every other movie must follow or elseContinue reading “Time traveling ‘The Tomorrow War’ stalls out”
A subgenre whose obsolescence sequels and MU films has hastened, the Legal Savior flick used to be fertile ground for Oscar nominations. To Kill a Mockingbird (1962), with Gregory Peck just Talmudic in intensity, set the standard. An enterprising young lawyer, most often white male, overcomes a smugness that, of course, his father or aContinue reading “‘Worth’ too literal about grief”
© A24 / courtesy Everett Collection[/caption] The emergence of the Delta variant has quashed my interest in returning to live movie experiences, though several colleagues have claimed that if anything this skittishness has emptied theatres, thus reinforcing their safety. How I might’ve responded to The Green Knight on the big screen I’ll never know.
Adam Driver and co-star Adam Driver’s hair are in almost frame of Annette, subjected to the most ruthless interrogation of their careers.
Frank and Jackie Rossi act like post-hippie parents in Gloucester, Massachusetts. She likes wine, he prefers weed. They still enjoy passionate sex. They don’t own fancy clothes. They run a fishing business. The difference, though, is that the Rossis, including son Leo, are Deaf.
Before I saw Dario Argento and Paul Morrissey flicks I knew Udo Kier as the German motorcycle freak who has a threesome with River Phoenix and Keanu Reeves in My Own Private Idaho.
I Carry You With Me relies on inserts: of food, hands, rueful expressions.
Figuring out which eighties pop star Benjamin Voisin reminded me of kept me distracted when Summer of ’85 got lumpy. Roland Orzabal? Charlie Sexton? Andrew Ridgeley? With his swollen insolent mouth, porcelain cheekbones, and ridiculous hair, Voisin incarnates an era of fashion that threatens to slink into obsolescence but never does. François Ozon’s latest filmContinue reading “Gorgeous bodies, clever self-consciousness give a lift to ‘Summer of ’85’”
I couldn’t imagine a better way to end my fourteen-month exile from theaters than by watching an eighty-seven-minute film about the friendship between two Detroit strippers who take their chances in Tampa.
In a documentary replete with poignant moments, the most is a clip of Billy Davis Jr. and wife Marilyn McCoo intently watching their younger selves as members of the 5th Dimension. Their performance of “Don’tcha Hear Me Callin’ to Ya” at the Harlem Cultural Festival in 1969 refutes several decades of criticism about the vocalContinue reading “‘Summer of Soul’ celebrates a historical moment”
Only once in my professional life have I taught a class under the influence.