Favorite films

  • steel reserve 40 oz
  • Neon Genesis Evangelion: The End of Evangelion
  • Querelle
  • All That Heaven Allows

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  • Variety

    ★★★

  • In Praise of Love

    ★★★★

  • Inland Empire

    ★★★★½

  • Late Spring

    ★★★★

Recent reviews

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  • In Praise of Love

    In Praise of Love

    ★★★★

    De l’amour non à propos, l’amour non succès ou échec, mais histoire. State (present, stasis, commodified image) antithesis to love, to the name, to the recollection-to the recollection of a “smile’s debris.” The burnishing film for the past, for the conclusion, artifacted Digital for the content, the interior. In the end and the beginning, the conception and the death, the child and the elder. The commodity to the enrichment, to finding the adulthood, the story. Love turns to history—the time…

  • Inland Empire

    Inland Empire

    ★★★★½

    The dreams are just everything we’ve seen in the day; the internal machinations curdle inward with external stimulation; the conflict is on a woodboard stage and the curtain will fold down and again you’re in the foundation, rickety and dripping; all around us is absorbed we become it it becomes us; yesterday’s tomorrow is today today’s yesterday is yesterday today’s tomorrow is tomorrow; “I thought one day I’d figure out what yesterday was about. I’m not taken with tomorrows  and…

Popular reviews

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  • steel reserve 40 oz

    steel reserve 40 oz

    ★★★★★

    Testament to cinema's ability of empathizing depiction of the human condition, of the destitution many of us are intrinsically struck with paralysis imagining. Drawing us in through a somehow intoxicating, delusional sphere, the modern man in the clothing he almost never leaves; his work clothes. Sat seemingly alone besides the apathetic, intrusive cameraman, bemusing on the ennui of Arizona living, where all there is is to be prepared for another shift, or play Kidz Pix, a recessive production of childhood…

  • Mulholland Drive

    Mulholland Drive

    ★★★★

    Allow the dreamer to stay asleep, she’s projected a desperate reality that will fix her and will never exist—she’s created her reality, but let her create another. No hay banda; the music is gone when she wakes back to herself, stagnant and putrid.