Schimberg’s film isn’t much of an argument, just a provocative discussion.
The film is a dizzying experimental essay on what the everyday life of an artist looks like in the 21st century.
National tragedies are touchy podiums for artistic license, so it’s rare for a work that flexes its creativity responsibly.
It movingly posits acting as a metaphor for the search for connection, through visceral texture rather than platitude.
Director Ti West’s methodical austerity yields in this film the most powerful passages of his career.
Joel Potrykus’s film introduces some canny aesthetic digressions as the story wades into psychological horror.
It routinely alternates between episodes that contrast exhilaration with exploitation and damnation.
Our first of order of business—can you find the moment where I flubbed the original recording and had to do a hard audio edit?
I know Alex Ross Perry from the movies, from seeing him at repertory screenings in New York.
Steve Coogan is brilliant…and has to still tell us so.