Personalized Accounts From Within Auschwitz and Around The World
There certainly is no shortage of Holocaust docs. Not to say they aren't completely warranted, but...
Sugartime: Michael Glawogger Brings Us a Bleak Look at Third World Brothel Workers
If Michael Glawogger’s Whores’ Glory, the third installment in his trilogy of...
Death Politics: Pablo Larrain’s Pathologist Nightmare Vision
Proving himself to be one of the most sardonic voices currently working in cinema, Chilean auteur Pablo Larrain...
The 55th edition of the San Francisco International Film Festival opens today, April 19th with the French period drama "Farewell, My Queen" by Benoît...
The thrill of meeting Marjane Satrapi reminded me of being 6 years old at Disney Land when I met the living, breathing Cinderella. Except Cinderella was an actress with a blond wig and Marjane is the real woman behind her autobiographical graphic novel, turned movie, “Persepolis”. The distinctive mole on her nose and her dark sultry eyes rose off the page and appeared in front of me, smoking and speaking with a French accent.