Author: Matt
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Assholes of the Cinema: Andre Gregory in My Dinner With Andre
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Read more: Assholes of the Cinema: Andre Gregory in My Dinner With AndreAndre Gregory is out of his fucking mind. Over a century plus of cinematic miracles, the greatest of all is that Mr. Gregory never spent a long stint in a mental hospital.
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Man On Wire (2008)
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Read more: Man On Wire (2008)Defiance as art. There’s an indescribable elegance to James Marsh’s Man on Wire, one that practically forces me to reverse course on everything I ever thought about performance artists.
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The Unsung: Delbert Grady (Phillip Stone) in The Shining
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Read more: The Unsung: Delbert Grady (Phillip Stone) in The Shining“Perhaps they need a good talking to, if you don’t mind my saying so. Perhaps a bit more. My girls, sir, they didn’t care for the Overlook at first. One of them actually stole a pack of matches and tried to burn it down. But I ‘corrected’ them sir. And when my wife tried to…
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Lili (1953)
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Read more: Lili (1953)1953’s Lili is perhaps the first film from Hollywood’s Golden Age to make the case that misogyny – that unmistakable, unshakable loathing of the female species – is the very foundation of love.
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Assholes of the Cinema: Michael Landon in I Was a Teenage Werewolf
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Read more: Assholes of the Cinema: Michael Landon in I Was a Teenage WerewolfTony Rivers is a prick. Tremendous head of hair, yes, even as a tender high school student, but a prick nonetheless.
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3 Women (1977)
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Read more: 3 Women (1977)There really is no other filmmaker quite like Robert Altman. Outside of Kurosawa and Kubrick, no director has been so consistently defiant in his resistance of conventions and complacency of craft.
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Julia (1977)
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Read more: Julia (1977)Let’s say you’re Lillian Hellman. Brilliant writer, captivating intellectual, companion of the equally legendary Dashiell Hammett. You spend your days in a seaside manor, pounding away at assorted keys while smoking enough cigarettes to keep Philip Morris in silk sheets for a millennium
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Fat City (1972)
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Read more: Fat City (1972)Stockton, California, 1972. A land of dreams, provided said dreams fit comfortably within a narrow paper sack. Those at work, those chosen few, barely surviving
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The Unsung: Pete Seltzer in Pete ‘n’ Tillie
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Read more: The Unsung: Pete Seltzer in Pete ‘n’ TillieIt took nearly a half-century of cinematic devotion, but it’s finally come to pass. “It” being the sight – in full color Cinemascope, mind you – of Walter Matthau sitting naked at a piano, banging out the liveliest Ragtime ditty you’re ever likely to hear.
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My Kid Could Paint That (2007)
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Read more: My Kid Could Paint That (2007)Abstract expressionism has always been about the abdication of responsibility.