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  • Twin Peaks: The Return

    Twin Peaks: The Return


    Jesus said, Take ye away the stone. Martha, the sister of him that was dead, saith unto him, Lord, by this time he stinketh: for he hath been dead four days.

    In John 11:44, Lazarus emerges from his tomb, once dead, now alive. On the periphery of this charged narration is the uneasy Martha, who protests that regardless of whether or not Christ can bring her brother back from the dead, she has smelled the stench of his corpse for…

Recent reviews

  • Vanilla Sky

    Vanilla Sky


    'Vanilla sky' might as well work as a label for the turn of the millennium adult oriented entertainment of which Vanilla Sky is very much a part, and on which Vanilla Sky also seemingly comments (its offensively inoffensive visual, its retrograde approach to form and thematics). The insipid homespun (Hollywood) take on approved European festival import is most plain in Silberling's remake of Wenders' Wings of Desire (City of Angels), but languor as affect defines much of the period's broader…

  • Runaway



    Kanye outdid himself every record after in his aesthetics of exhaustion, but there is something pure about this period where he sees his desire for immolation as a potential escape route and not a mode of being.

Popular reviews

  • The Dark Knight

    The Dark Knight

    I attended this really wonderful lecture on superheroes and the War on Terror, and how a number of very important comics post-9/11 became self-critical in their examination of states of emergency and exceptional politics, and the autoimmune system that leads to the violent pursuit of 'order' becoming the greatest source of chaos. Because superheroes respond to 'emergency' situations and operate within a non-legal or extra-legal capacity to inflict sovereign violence on the enemy (the enemy itself prone to slippage e.g.…

  • Hereditary



    Shifts critical-fashionably between polarities of dumb. Hereditary has a secret desire to lose itself to black blooded horror, but it is restrained by Ari Aster's smothering auteurism. The twist is that it's the latter impulse which manifests in ham-fisted cries and hollow shocks, some so shrill that the film inches towards something like a satisfying genre piece. It's kind of hysterical: Collette's gravity defying agony can't steal focus from the smug master crafting callous scenarios in his very own miniature…