The Safety of Objectivism: Corbet Unleashes the Survival Instinct of Rational Egoism
“The hardest thing to explain is the glaringly evident which everybody has decided...
Death Wishes: Baumbach Dons DeLillo’s Satirical Death March
The characters anchoring the existential narrative of White Noise have kindly stopped for death, so consumed with...
Lamb Tied to (Mis)Take: Szumowska Gets Culty with English Language Debut
Cults seem to be making something of a comeback in popular film culture, which...
A Star is Worn: Corbet Confirms his Talent with Daring Sophomore Effort
2015’s The Childhood of a Leader (review) was a surprising debut in many ways,...
The Dear Hunter: Lanthimos Flatlines with Terse Revenge Fantasy
There’s no arguing the unique capabilities of Greek Weird Wave alum Yorgos Lanthimos, who broke out...
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.