My beef with biopics goes way back to when I was 11 and Gandhi beat E.T. for Best Picture.
Linklater’s concept was ambitious, and I understand the urge to heap accolades on his inventiveness. I wish more established Hollywood filmmakers took such creative risks. But that alone was not enough to lift Boyhood up from an interesting experiment into a life-changing cinematic experience.
Only two serial programs in 2014 really made an impression on me: The Missing and The Affair. And unfortunately for my joie de vivre, both were about how the tragic loss of a child destroys the lives of his parents.
We’re the Borg of the primate world. We assimilate, not just knowledge, but whole societies — like that of the Neanderthals.
Haunted house movies rely on tired old tropes because all the movies explore the same theme: a dysfunctional family and how its secrets tear it apart.
How do I rationalize hate-watching not one but two shows, Sons of Anarchy and Project Runway?
Fight Club allegorized Generation X’s bone-deep dissatisfaction with ourselves. We never thought we’d buy into the Ikea lifestyle, but we have, hook, line, and sinker.
Even the best TV show has to end eventually — the way it does so can make a difference to its legacy.
Penny Dreadful features a rogue’s gallery of Victorian favorites, but this is no retread of League of Extraordinary Gentlemen.
Right now, there’s a crop of TV shows that both pass the Bechdel test and feature female characters who would feel right at home with Jax Teller and Walter White.