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  • Charlie's Angels

    Charlie's Angels

    ★★★★★

    I think women can do anything.

    Let the choir of Angels™ not only sing, but annihilate bad men the world over—this was, to my utter surprise and delight, an all-out blast. Banks just intrinsically *gets* how Charlie’s Angels should play in 2019, and I’m over the moon about it. As much as I’ll love the first two bombast-driven, early aughts pop cinema reboots forever, their horndog-focused worst facets have been scrubbed away—and guess what? It’s (gasp!) still sexy as hell…

  • Clouds of Sils Maria

    Clouds of Sils Maria

    ★★★★★

    Maybe I only remember what suites me to remember.

    A miracle of a film that slithers and swirls through memory in a dream-like trance; the past blending with present, confounding and delighting. A psychological maelstrom, scored by Handel. A torrent of questions encircle the piece (“What is written?,” ”What is reality?,” “When does interpersonal communication become performative?,” ”Is it ever not?”) and patiently transform it into the most exquisite of cinematic enigmas. I could watch Binoche & Stewart recurrently punch at, enliven, love, and destroy one another—chortling one second and biting back obscenities the next—‘til the break of dawn.

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  • Frances Ha

    Frances Ha

    ★★★★★

    That's what I want out of a relationship. Or just life, I guess.

    This is one of a handful of movies that feel so tremendously precious to me, I only allow myself to revisit them every so often. It’s strange to watch something that plays like a closely adjacent version of your own life, and is also simultaneously a picture you’d have done anything to make yourself—perhaps *for* yourself. Its casualness is what makes it feel grand; its grandness is…

  • Parasite

    Parasite

    ★★★★★

    If I had all this, I would be kinder.

    Bong Joon-ho‘s Parasite lithely walks a slick, impossibly intelligent tight rope between uproarious social satire and pulse-pounding thriller. It’s a living Rubik’s Cube—with bricks colored in hues of painfully relevant class struggle—that never allows itself to be fully solved, even when you finally think you’ve got it all figured out (and thank goodness for that). Once it ropes you in, you’re left both ravenously hungry for more and functionally devastated over the…