Gotham, Open City: Reeves Reconstitutes an Anti-Hero in Moody Reboot
Who would have ever predicted in the fifty-plus years since Adam West first donned the...
Woman, Thou Art Deuced: Jenkins Misfires with Superficial Follow-Up in Ill-Fitting Retro Garb
The difficulty in presenting the affect of nostalgia is how reverence for...
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.