It’s sad, but our celebrity culture practically demands that big stars show up in their sweatpants to knock out a few lines for these movies. It then means a press tour can be successfully booked for them to promote it. You’re not going to see Charles Martinet on Jimmy Fallon anytime soon. Hell, even the few times the…

Not to take away anything from the heavy lyrical content of the song, but Sun Goes Down really sounds like he’s saying “farting” instead of “fighting” at 1:16. Or maybe I need to clean my ears out.

My wife’s really into the show You, but I just can’t hang with the voiceover. It’s..........a.........loT. But I recognize the appeal anyway.

This documentary at least feints at the whole “cancel culture is bullshit and if you got cancelled you probably deserved it” side, but overall this just speaks to how amazing reactionary Conservatives are at branding. They can invent a new kind of panic whole-cloth and the rest of us just start doing news reports like…

Happens to everyone. I asked Shane Black a softball question once after a screening of KKBB and he said “Christ, who sent you, the Set-Up Fairy?” to the sounds of uproarious laughter.

Recently rewatched True Romance and while it’s still fun, the score is almost entirely responsible for the emotional heavy lifting. It’s the sole thing that convinces me this is a couple worth rooting for.

My first RF ever and I’ll for sure be going back. It’s just got a much nicer, friendlier vibe than most fests, and the lineup could not be ignored. Even with Pup cancelling and Fucked Up not making it, I had a blast. I personally only had one major conflict, on Saturday night, and so I stuck with Andrew WK.

We also can’t all be Mask of the Phantasm or MST3K: The Movie!

Pugh and Styles currently have big-time, parasocial relationship internet cachet. Small images of them will make people go “SHE ATE THAT” or “HARRY IS SERVING 50s GLAM” enough times on the required websites for this mini-teaser to be a worthwhile endeavor.

Hmm, on Spotify there are a couple extra tracks at the end, “I Made It” and “Not Anymore,” which pull the album back out of the darkness into Andrew’s usual uplifting party paradise. Chuck those in and you have a well-rounded album once more, and one of my favorites from the party god.

LNIS just proceeds from point A to B, and there’s almost no wit or slyness to the script at all. I think I know what Wright’s talking about when he pleads with critics not to spoil the twists, and all I can say is that one of those twists amounts to basically nothing, and the other you could probably suss out from the…

Having lived just around the corner from where they filmed Eloise’s apartment in LNIS, I can tell you that is indeed Fitzrovia...but no one cares. Technically, Soho starts once you walk south of Oxford street, but Fitzrovia itself is a rather tiny and comparatively unremarkable neighborhood that it’s really just…

A massive contingency of ticket-buyers, sadly, will think of this twist (which I loved to0) as a huge shark-jumping moment. You can picture them in your head, you can hear the timbre of their low, guttural voice as they say “Yo, this is fuckin’ [slur redacted].” You can even picture some of them taking to…

Hell is here.

Causes absolutely compete in real life, so there is that. However, they don’t compete with all the attendant slickness of juicy editing...reaction shots, intense music, graphics transitions, confession room soundbites, and drawn-out shots of the judges “thinking about their decision” before a cliffhanger…

I would watch only if the three judges are stuck in an underground house with all their weapons taken away, and this baby is chasing them, screaming from room to room.

Our movie’s on Tubi as well (after getting bounced from Shudder). So I’m not knocking it either. I just don’t want to eventually have to tell people “Yeah our movie’s currently playing on the backs of yogurt cups in select Walgreens”

On one hand, I know it’s the height of smugness to gather Hollywood’s A-list for (what I presume will be) a dunk-fest on American ignorance/paranoia/right-wing propaganda.

Opening night at the Arclight is one of the happiest places on Earth for me.

On its own, Barton Fink is a great, great movie. But I can never think of it without also imagining Milhouse and friends speeding away in a car, thrilled to see their first-ever R-rated movie, chanting “Barton Fink! Barton Fink!”