I like to think that living in a pineapple, under the sea, has somewhat fruitful benefits. For one I doubt you’d have to pay much property tax, on the grounds that you live in a fruit rather than an apartment or structurally reinforced building. As someone who can’t swim because they forgot how to move their arms and legs in a motion that would prevent drowning, the closest I will ever get to going into the ocean is head down…
I’ve not got it in me to hate anymore. I’m annoyed at best with To All the Boys P.S. I Still Love You. My back hurts too much to care for how boring and infantile and pedestrian it is. It’s the drying paint of the genre, and apparently people are content to sit and stare as they’re spoon-fed this palette of grey nothingness. An absolute fun vacuum for the whole family, To All the Boys P.S. I Still Love You…
Where did this sudden love for Harley Quinn come from? After Suicide Squad committed the act it was so aptly titled after at the box office, I thought we’d seen the end of D.C.’s endeavour into replicating the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Clearly not, as Birds of Prey (and the Fantabulous Emancipation of one Harley Quinn) proves otherwise. When their most blazon, Avengers Assemble style clash of the titans came together and received a reception as lukewarm and uncaring as, say,…
Although having passed away in 1985, Orson Welles is still releasing movies in a manner more frequent than Quentin Tarantino. If that’s not a testament to the impact of Welles' work and how much of an auteur icon he has become, we don’t know what is. Quite genuinely his final piece of work ever, The Other Side of the Wind was released on Netflix to rave reviews from critics and fans alike.
Read the rest of my review on Northern Lights.