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  • High Flying Bird

    High Flying Bird

    ★★★

    Hi, my name is Clayton and I am an NBA Junkie.

    This material is catnip for me, but Soderbergh's varying layers of real and forged (Reggie Jackson, Karl-Anthony Towns, and Donovan Mitchell giving interviews | integrated faux clips from Undisputed with Shannon Sharpe and Skip Bayless | an anachronistic lockout that's based on 2011 but not set then) push its execution away from a kinetic consideration of business practice and toward a more calculated, if still reflexive provocation. Shooting on…

  • Horror Noire: A History of Black Horror

    Horror Noire: A History of Black Horror

    ★★½

    Horror Noire becomes increasingly detached from a consistent historical vantage point, electing to perpetuate an ahistorical representational history that, in its neat claims, reduces art to questions of litmus tests i.e. progressive/regressive based on, for example, when/if a character dies. There is almost no consideration of how certain films/filmmakers complicate questions of whiteness/blackness through themes/affect beyond the visible evidence of black characters. The closest comes in a discussion of Night of the Living Dead, where a comparison with B&W archival…

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  • La La Land

    La La Land

    Please allow the candor of my passions a forum without preemptive judgment.

    The “post-racial mystique”, as Catherine Squires calls it, need not be found in cases where racial recognition unexpectedly springs to the surface. On the contrary, the very concept of being “post-racial” means that race does not factor into discussions regarding politics or the polity, because the urgency of those conversations have been lessened or even permanently quelled. Accordingly, depictions of history, especially those guided by nostalgia and longing…

  • The House That Jack Built

    The House That Jack Built

    ★★★★½

    Or, Dont Look Back, Jack.

    Lars Von Trier’s allusion to D.A. Pennebaker’s 1967 documentary, which occurs in the form of Matt Dillon’s serial killer flashing cue cards in the same manner as Bob Dylan, cuts to the belly of a theorized American beast, borne of the slow cultural dissolve between commerce and atrocity, now indistinguishable entities. If Dylan’s narcissism, and Pennebaker’s giddiness to capture it, emblemizes the turn toward celebrity worship, then Dillon’s psychopath is the transmogrified complement, simultaneously neurotic…