Knives Out

Although I mostly write spoiler analysis, due to the nature of these reviews, I won’t here, for the sheer pleasure everyone should have while watching this most enjoyable of cinematic experiences. An antidote, if you will, to the nasty landscapes it depicts, with extreme wit and a big heart. Go see it. It’s an all-star murder mystery about inheritance. And yes, I give it five stars, without explaining why. My blog, my rules… etc.

Ad Astra

It sets its sights high on its thorny way to Neptune, but it seems to lack soul material, an obscure alchemical element. Namely, generosity. Even with a core intent that is honourable, and a story that is conceptually beautiful in its severe simplicity – it’s a selfish story about selfishness. A love letter meant for a particular other, or group of others, but perhaps truly written only to oneself. Pushing aside all that does not belong in its elegant narrative.

Film, the Alchemical Medium: Archetypal Enchantment and the Transformative Potential of the Moving Image

Cursed ancient academic proposal I aimed at studying how we are enchanted by film, using early film theory, post-Jungian analysis & anthropology of ritual. One day I might write about the text’s strange travels, good stuff I got out of it, publish a book, or reboot my bid for title of film doctor. For now, please feast on its faded glory, cite & link, yours might be the kiss that revives it.

Cold War

An experience of profound beauty and real heartache, one that maybe should have been left untouched. It has that defiant spirit of divine intervention hidden beneath a beautiful, silent, terrible mistake. Hope I did Zula and Wiktor justice, their story, it’s a diamond and a dagger, in one.

Maria By Callas

It was the humanity of the delivery of divinity that was the key to Callas’s impact – and the way she knew, by some uncanny ability, just how to channel an archetype. Seeing her in Pasolini’s Medea, even just for a few screen seconds, shook my soul, if not my world.

Sharp Objects & The Initiation Of The Screen She-Shaman

Camille emerged fully formed, a she-shaman forged in the era of the return of the witch, expanding the liminal space between traumatic events, taking the silver bullet of all audience assumptions and projections in a tale of female rage – of women hurting other women – all those dark vagina dentata materials blooming a venemous crimson red in the patriarchal dollhouse.