Guerillas in the Mist: Rugeles Explores the Jungles in Labored Sophomore Effort
An intriguing perspective within a terrifying environment initially makes for a compelling scenario...
Oh Them Silly Unicorns: Meyerhoff’s Coming of Age Debut Prizes Style Over Substance
Director Leah Meyerhoff most effectively conveys the nature of her debut film,...
The Boys in the Choir: Polk’s Antiquated Rendition of the Rural Gay Narrative
The blatant underrepresentation of black gay characters in film, whatever letter they’re...
Dan in Real Life: Fogelman’s Sugary Directorial Debut Hobbles its Own Charms
Screenwriter and producer Dan Fogelman makes a high profile directorial debut with Danny...
Heart to Heart to Heart: Jacquot’s Romantic Drama Can’t Cover Every Angle
Despite sporting the likes of Charlotte Gainsbourg and Catherine Deneuve, 3 Hearts, the...
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.