It’s a moving, witty, at times almost trance-like work traversing age, aging, sickness and death, as well as joy, gratitude and wonder.
Terrence Malick’s Song to Song is about floating along on currents of uncertain desire and excitement.
Smith’s dreamlike tome feels like having unfettered access to the punk poet laureate’s innermost workings.
Listening to a Patti Smith album always feels like an invitation to glimpse her roster of influences.
Sail the high seas of Jean-Luc Godard’s historical imagination with Kino Lorber’s impeccable Blu-ray transfer.
Those songs are special because they preserve a Patti Smith who until very recently seemed to be lost to time.
The film seems useful primarily as an illustration of the beliefs that Godard’s 90-plus films have collectively expressed.
Film Socialisme is often simply beautiful to look at, full of inspired, elusive, and suggestive imagery.
The tortuous legacy of Jack Kerouac continues to trip up even the hippest and least glib of Neo-Beats.
A largely sentimental documentary of the final months of the Valhalla of New York punk clubs and the failed attempts to save it.
My iPod Shuffle is a few years old and, by today’s standards, a relic.
Whether she wants it or not, Patti Smith now has a No Direction Home to call her own.
Black White + Gray draws out the unseen riches that exist within what may otherwise appear typical or commonplace.
Playing it safe could not be more inappropriate for a Patti Smith album.
Much of Trampin’ finds Smith calling for peace.
Gung Ho is Smith’s flawed yet admirable attempt to keep it spinning in the age of change.