Showing results for Movie Reviews
A Review of By the Sea, or, How to Be An Artist and Female, I.e. How to be Unlikable, or, How to (Not) Pander
And now I am left wondering how The End of the Story might have been different, what more we might have found out, had ‘Vincent’ not been a presence in that flowered armchair, had Lydia not been conscious of him invoking rules: there shouldn’t be any intimate scenes.
I’m a stockpiling cakemix of a man trapped in the well Tarantino dug for me around age eleven.
If you’re of the age to have returned that difficult game (I’m too trapped nowhere between gen Xers and millennials to pipe up about this or anything, though I favor the X for its aesthetic absurdities pluming in the early-to-mid 90s culture that raised me), or are of the mindset to grouse at the receipt for any difficult entertainment, then your whole life is probably you snitching on yourself under the guise of being genuine, and you should continue to embrace your deciphered and dimensionally rounded community of bullshit Star Wars enthusiasm which predominately infects the arts (or get fucked in your ball cap).
If someone insists you smile, it might as well be rape. This movie found a way to nitpick itself the way these types nitpick everyone around them about presenting the right attitude. Someone in this land will always be subjecting you to the editorial fructose of their imperial fertility. If Bird’s intent was to satirize our fretful American condition, I didn’t understand, because I left the fucking theater right when the film began – about an hour in.
Being human is about: what’s unobtainable today?
To recover from the grand wizard of empathy’s commencement speech, I have since camped at grocery stores, when I can afford them, awaiting the flotation device of my college degree’s supposed intellectual extenuation of the human gridlock.
Hopefully, I’ve ingested enough synthetic flavor to stop my heart real early. Or to maintain tinnitus for the length of a harassing phone call. If not, the only responsibility of the adult is to be their own Kevorkian.
Gosling has an understanding beyond the Franco. There’s a certain silence to his pose. I dig his tone, even if he’s sexy.
Not belonging feels more and more like banging a rough cookie on the counter these days. I would take pride in my crumbs, if I knew how. It’s good to be alive like a delinquent spaz.
Flashes of Life
Featuring poems that engage songs by artists ranging from The White Stripes to Bruce Sprinsteen, David Bowie to Otis Redding; lists of albums; daily timestamps as poems; remixes and everything in between; Flashes of Light evokes not just the way we listen to music, but all the ways we interact with the music in our life.
Over For Rockwell
They say it takes an average person about 10 years to master a given thing. This was my thinking in 1995 when I dropped out of college in Iowa City to draw comics.