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  • You Were Never Really Here

    You Were Never Really Here


    "In the first act of Lynne Ramsay’s You Were Never Really Here, there’s an extended sequence of Joaquin Phoenix as Joe, just sitting on his bed. Ramsay’s obsession with the sensuality of texture comes to the forefront, her camera focusing in on the thick strands of his greasy shoulder-length hair held together in a ponytail tuff. On his shoulder, he strains to rest a bag of frozen veggies. As our focus expands, we take stock of his clammy, blotchy skin covered in jagged scars. Who’s this man?"

    Read the full review at Cult MTL:

  • Truth or Dare

    Truth or Dare


    "For years, horror filmmakers have seemed so baffled by the cell-phone problem – the ubiquity of a device that everyone carries at all times that can call for help, warn others, etc. – that narratively, as soon as it was comfortably permitted, they anesthetized it. Deadlier than Jason or Freddy, cell phones were not threatening teens and co-eds, they were slaying the horror genre. “Are cell-phones ruining horror?” hand-wringing pundits fretted, as genre fans were subjected to a barrage of poor reception problems and nostalgia-soaked throwbacks."

    Read my full review for the National Post:

Popular reviews

  • Birdman



    Birdman was pretty good, some cringe-worthy moments but overall it has some incredible technique and packs a powerful punch. I don't see the strength of the film having very much to do with art or theatre at all, I think it works best as a festering portrait of male impotent rage: The dangerous obsession with the self and how it destroys nearly everyone in its path. This awful symptom of maleness that is more concerned with legacy and influence than…

  • The Lords of Salem

    The Lords of Salem


    Difficult to put into words the visceral impact and sadness of The Lords of Salem. One viewing doesn't quite seem enough to put all the pieces together, as Zombie puts together a horror film so unlike any horror I've ever seen. The brutality of Sheri Moon's performance hits me in the fucking gut, and without ever having dealt with addiction, the film feels like a pained, strung out journey into the abyss. Some great female power, and a bone-chilling soundscape are icing on the cake.