This is a lengthy one, but I’ve never really gone over what I feel about Wiseau and The Room, Franco and The Disaster Artist, or Sestero and Best F(r)iends: Volume One. Rating subject to change - for better or worse - when I see the second volume in June.
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I wasn’t a fan of The Disaster Artist. It’d probably crack a list of my least favorites of last year (if I were to ever do…
#179
Movies shouldn't be this elegant, or this sincere about its shamelessness. It leaves all convictions within its bookend sequences involving the mother’s children, and presents nothing but warmth with its central story. Clint Eastwood is obsessed with the way Meryl Streep moves: when she swats her bangs to the side, when she places her hands on her waist, when her brow softly flutters. There shouldn't be a scene as overwhelmingly romantic, yet entirely suspenseful, as that…
"There she was my new best friend;
high heels in her hands, swayin' in the wind.
While she starts to cry,
mascara runnin' down her little Bambi eyes,
'Lana, how I hate those guys!'
My latest short.
A narration-free video essay.
Let me say one thing.
It’s something that I often don’t outright admit about myself.
It’s something that you can see in my own personal films – however, I’ve never been one to outright admit it to close friends; a cocktail of shame and an endless desire to better myself for the sake of my future.
Often, we get a bit existential on Letterboxd, or even a bit pretentious.
But that’s what makes us all cinephiles.
This is going to…
I did, but it wasn’t easy.
Just like the first, the film is about the same themes. A continuation of them; pretty much accompanying the previous as if they were one whole movie that just so happen to be visually different.
I paralleled Zombie’s version of the Michael Myers story with my own. An almost autobiographical understanding of a certain…
