An explosive device, bubble-gum-wrapped in vivacious rom-com feels, this is an ancient tale of womanhood desecrated - a female gaze extraordinaire, on men who abuse trust, and women who enable them, in a manner more belonging to Mesopotamian myth, rather than any sociopathic femme fatale trope in cinema. I am giving it a five-star, not because it is a faultless film, which it isn't, but because it is one of a kind. [read more] ★★★★★
A flawed, but fascinating take on Rosaleen Norton, artist & dedicated occultist, notoriously active in 1950s Sydney, using all the tricks of the doc trade to conjure the self-declared witch in her nocturnal glory - showing fault only when it tries too hard to render her safer for the masses by confining her in feminist or archetypal tropes (however apt). An intoxicating brew, offering this truly unique counter-culture figure some posthumous justice. [read more] ★★★★✩
A post-Jungian reading, encountering feminine mysteries on celluloid, analysis of the veneration of the Hollywood film icon, tracing the blazing trail of cinema femme fatales, their imagery framed within portals, places where darkness and light meet, the heroines gazing back at us, in defiance, as permanent challenge to imposed authority, transforming, dynamically, into a new animus/anima fluid form of the femme fatale as action figure. [read more]
Exploring the myth of the fallen woman in classic Hollywood melodrama, via Jungian framework, tracing her historical, religious and literary antecedents, delving into the archetypal realms of the dark, wild feminine projected onto the screen, and her impact on the spectator, male and female. What these femme fatales, gold-diggers, seductresses, fallen angels, and furious housewives subversively revealed was a hidden narrative current underneath the official one, women's own dispossessed femininity, debased, fragmented and demonised, yet so powerfully vibrant and creative. [read more]
Penny Lane’s crafty, arch entertaining doc on a growing group of US Satanists almost got me thinking backwards, like a spell on a Black Sabbath vinyl. There’s no denying that separating church and state is always a good idea. Then, playing the devil’s advocate to the devil’s advocate, and why not – one must remember that Lucifer finally fell from grace due to hubris, not (just) because he was otherwise cool. [read more]
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. [read more]
If you've ever been pushed off a cliff, this is the film for you. Once you transcend the gore, the sheer originality of its dynamics, the ingenious transgression of its point of view, which happens to be a according to a woman's frame, makes it a thrill ride of mythic proportions.