It took 19 years for Hurricane to blow through, and it feels like Grace Jones spent the entire time leisurely accruing suitable new material at the magisterial pace of a plumy Category 5.
This isn’t the album version of Crash so much as the album version of It’s a Mad Mad Mad Mad World.
Circus doesn’t quite feel like a comeback, but I’m sure Brit’s not above merely bringing pre-comeback..
Thr33 Ringz is drenched in what already sounded like last year’s sound a couple years ago.
They don’t come more internally conflicted than Bruce LaBruce’s Otto; or, Up with Dead People
Evolver might be the least affected of Legend’s LPs thus far.
Mary isn’t exactly a smart film, but it’s a bluntly instinctive one.
Director Pamela Taner Boll, perhaps inadvertently, presents an unnecessarily restrictive definition of what an artist is and what she does.
Mike Skinner’s unique patois and winning sincerity still sell what has become a sonically disjointed affair.
Daylight comes to Beetlejuice in this anniversary DVD, but apparently the bonus features wan’ go home.
To paraphrase Peggy Noonan, Choose Connor mires itself in far-fetched bullshit narrative.
Tim Burton’s imagination jumped into the saddle and held onto the bridle with Beetlejuice.
Musically, Robin Thicke’s dick is in the right place.
This universal tale is set against the background of a post-WWII Japan still contemplating its loss, its destruction, and its Americanized renewal.
Ozu’s final film is less a tragedy than it is a miracle of bemused resignation.
Year of the Gentleman’s complete lack of irony or humor makes for an ironically surprising listen.
The Last Bolshevik is Chris Marker’s version of a love letter.
With The Last Bolshevik, Marker allows himself to get personal.
Chris Marker thoroughly mines Denise Bellon’s photography for all the ethnographic, artistic, historic, and philosophical merit that it’s worth.
Perhaps Marker is ageless because he compresses the past and present into one cosmic “now.”