The Mountain feels like a departure for Rick Alverson, whose brand of deliberately challenging and unconventional cinema is evolving beyond the scope of his...
Who’s Wally?: Alverson Goes Retro with Punishing, Complex Period Drama
Always intent on making his audience do some of the work, American indie helmer Rick Alverson...
Last year programmers landed Tim Sutton's remarkable hybrid-like fly-on-the-wall third feature film Dark Knight, and a pair of stunning debuts in Nicolas Pesce's hauntingly...
Hemogobble: Turkel’s Latest Assay into Misanthropy
Indie filmmaker Onor Turkel seems determined to remain hilariously unlikeable as his self-effacing, self-directed on-screen alter ego with his...
Easily among our favorite curated lists/annual page turners, Filmmaker Magazine has unveiled their 25 New Faces (or 29, when you count the quad creative...
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.