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  • Throne of Blood

    Throne of Blood


    blood-haunted. a deathshroud billows over hardened magma. laughing ghosts sing seeds of madness in the tangled, wooded web. rain soaks nervous armor. glory and paranoia clash in violent disharmony; a dirge of death. 

    Kurosawan horror. Shakespeare and Noh entwine in a feudal danse macabre. Toshirō Mifune is ten feet tall and absolutely terrifying. the blood remains.

  • Where Does a Body End?

    Where Does a Body End?

    [backer screener/festival cut]

    LISTEN to SWANS. Michael Gira is the closest thing we have to a musical shaman, a sonic demi-god, a martyr hurling his mind, body, and soul ceaselessly into the maelstrom of sound, spewing catharsis from every pore. this is an exhaustive portrait of Gira’s perpetual resilience, without but mostly within the most uncompromising, beautifully self-destructive band to ever be spawned. I adore them, from Filth to the trilogy, and I’m elated that I could play a tiny…

Recent reviews

  • Fargo



    one of my favorite endings

    “I just don’t understand it.”

  • School for Postmen

    School for Postmen

    the seed that would eventually grow into Jour de fête, and already François is fully formed. it’s the prologue of Tati’s genius, undiluted; writer, director, lead. smooth, not flashy or crass, but nimble, rhythmic, fluid, and effortlessly cool. it all lands. it all flows from here.

Popular reviews

  • Burning



    quiet devastation at the hands of a metaphor. a mystery drifts in on a warm breeze from Africa, rustling the leaves as sunset slowly burns the day to ashen black. Miles Davis dances with North Korean propaganda in the cool twilight.

    poetic, existentialist ambiguity gives way to bracing tension with the gradual sublety of light creeping into the morning. Mowg’s score bestows a soft menace on everything. a beguiling swell of cloistered emotional heft, and what a rousing coda! my heart aches for the greenhouse: hopeful, promising, ephemeral, lost in a puff of smoke.

  • Swiss Army Man

    Swiss Army Man


    “A24 could put out a necrophilia-tinged island romance where a farting Harry Potter corpse with super powers plays second fiddle to a mentally unraveling Paul Dano, color it as a requiem for missed opportunities and an ode to queer thought, and you know I’d still slurp that shit right up I tell you what.”
    — somebody, at some point, probably

    it works. you won’t believe it till you see it, but it works. a strange, risky, surprisingly touching debut. the Daniels have my attention now.

    “if you don’t know Jurassic Park,
    you don’t know shit.”