Award Show Round Up: Oscars 2018

Well another awards season has come to a close, and while there were some great moments (and some important statements made) none of my personal favorites managed wins. (Except, of course, my role model Ms. McDormand – but more on that later).

Jimmy Kimmel did a good job last night of being charming, relatively inoffensive, and didn’t dwell on hatred of Matt Damon or the envelope snafu from last year.

I liked the jet ski for shortest speech gimmick (though honestly they could have played people off, that was a looooooong show.)

Mark Bridges, is living his best life up there. (Also, his costumes for Phantom Thread were so gorgeous.

Other than best picture, which I was sure was going to go to Three Billboards there weren’t many surprises with the winners. (Including unfortunately, Timothée Chalamet’s award going to a man in old age makeup yelling.)

I like Sam Rockwell a lot (though Willem DaFoe was robbed):

(Side note: Did we all know that Martin McDonagh and Phoebe Waller-Bridge were a thing? Because that’s awesome.)

I also really like Allison Janney (though Laurie and Lesley were also so amazing this year):

Kobe Bryant has an Oscar now. That’s not one I would have predicted!

Best presenters of the evening:

Though these two were pretty great too:

Jordan Peele deserved this:

I’m not sure if Guillermo deserved this or not, but I he gives good speech:

I love a good Meryl bit:

And most importantly: Frances. McDormand.

Fashion wise there was a lot of sparkle and bright bold colors, which I loved. Here were my favs:


Sally Hawkins in Armani Privé (Photo Credit: WireImage)


Jennifer Lawrence in Dior (Photo Credit: David Fisher/REX/Shutterstock)


Kumail Nanjiani in Ermenegildo Zenga Couture and Emily V. Gordon in J. Mendel (Photo Credit: Frazer Harrison/Getty)


Allison Williams in Armani Privé Couture (Photo Credit: Frazer Harrison/Getty Images) 

She looks beautiful, and I love that fairy-gossamer dress, but I am still not convinced she’s not going to murder someone.


Allison Janney in Reem Acra (Photo Credit: Getty Images)


Phoebe Waller-Bridge in Vionnet (Photo Credit: Getty/Mike Stobe)


Jane Fonda in Balmain (Photo Credit: Kevin Mazur/WireImage)


Ashley Judd in Zameer Kassam and Mira Sorvino in Romona Keveža (Photo Credit: Frazer Harrison/Getty Images)


Greta Gerwig in my favorite Oscars dress of all time which was designed by Rodarte (Photo Credit: David Fisher/REX/Shutterstock)


Award Show Round Up: BAFTAs 2018

Sorry this post is a day late. I was out of traveling yesterday and I kind of completely forgot that I hadn’t done this. As far as BAFTAs go this one was a little strange. This may have been because it was first time since I started watching that Stephen Fry wasn’t the host, though Joanna Lumley was lovely. And it may have been because it was the British Time’s Up moment, but it didn’t feel quite as galvanized and united as the Golden Globes to me (is it possible that it’s just because the room was bigger?)

The other strange thing was that the show started with Best British Film going to Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri which is of course an incredibly American story. (It was also presented by Jennifer Lawrence, an American actress.) That movie went on to win basically everything, which didn’t bother me as much as it does some other people, but it’s not super exciting to me either. (Except it means lots of love for Frances McDormand, which I am never going to be mad about.)

EE Rising Star did go to a Brit, and yes, I promise I will see Get Out very soon. (Or before the Oscars at least.)


(Side note: shout out to Timmy for walking him up the stairs. And though I knew it was going to happen last night, please stop giving Mr. Chalamet’s awards to Gary Oldman. Especially on nights when you are supposed to be lifting up the voices of women who have spoken out against their abusers. Thanks!)

We’re at that point in awards season where I begin to sound like a broken record, but I would’ve given this to Laurie, but I love Ms. Janney (and her strange space age shrug):

Speaking of women I love and their strange fashion choices:

And that speech is a good one to end on!

The all black dress code led to some unusual embellishment choices fashion wise, but there were a few looks I liked:


Jennifer Lawrence in Christian Dior Haute Couture (Photo Credit: Getty)


Gugu Mbatha-Raw in vintage Cardinali (Photo Credit: Lipstick Alley)


Lily James in Burberry (Photo Credit: Getty/Mike Marsland)


Lupita Nyong’o in Elie Saab (Photo Credit: David M. Benett/Getty Images)


Natalie Dormer in custom Alberta Ferretti (Photo Credit: Mike Marsland/WireImage)


Jamie Bell and Kate Mara in Dior (Photo Credit: Getty/Dav J. Hogan)


Helena Bonham Carter (Photo Credit: Mike Marsland/WireImage)


Florence Pugh in Miu Miu (Photo Credit: Getty)

And the Nominees Are 2018: Round 5

So, I was going to wait until I had finally watched Get Out before I posted this latest update, but it’s getting long so I guess I’ll share this now and continue to promise I’ll see it soon.

The Meyerowitz Stories (New & Selected)


So, I didn’t finish watching this movie. I got about 5 minutes into Ben Stiller‘s story and then I had to give up. I’ll admit that I have a mental block against Noah Baumbach (especially when not writing with Greta Gerwig) but this felt stilted and awkward. Obvously I can’t write a full review, but this wasn’t for me.

The Post


My boss described this movies as solid. And that is exactly what it is. Steven Spielberg is an expert craftsman. The script is well structured, clever, timely, and moving. The supporting cast is filled with wonderful character actors who all play their parts well. Mr. Hanks is charming and charismatic. Meryl Streep is Meryl Streep.

I left the theater satisfied and unsurprised. (Except the opening scenes in Vietnam, which were unexpected but thematically helpful in reminding viewers what was at stake in the Pentagon Papers.)

I had learned about this historical momen in school, but I always absorb things better as a story, and Mr. Spielberg and his cast and crew sure know how to tell as story well.



Film Stars Don’t Die in Liverpool


I read the memoir this was based on over Christmas, and while Peter Turner‘s love for Gloria Grahame was clear, his writing style was hard for me to connect to. But this film accomplishes that rarest of feats – it’s better than the book.

And more than that, it’s a beautiful work of art in its own right. The central couple, the icon Annette Bening as faded movie star Grahame, and Jamie Bell as Turner, have a compelling chemistry, that makes you believe the central love story, which could possibly have been played as a curiosity. Bening and Bell instead play every moment with a heart-wrenching vulnerability that made me ache for their situation.

I knew walking his that that film had great stars, but I was pleasantly surprised by the stylistic choices director Paul McGuigan made. The movie shifts timelines and perspectives with a beautiful fluidity and the different ways he presents each locale (Hollywood, New York, London, and Liverpool) echoes Peter’s journey through the fairy tale dreamland of first love to the dark realities of illness and scandal. Overall I was blown away by this one and I think it got lost in the end of the year shuffle. Seek if out if you can.



In the Fade

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Oomph… I literally cried so hard at the second act of this film that I injured my eye. That sounds like a joke but it isn’t. This is the only movie I’ve seen this season that made me say “Jesus Christ” our loud in the theater at multiple points.

The film follows a woman (Diane Kruger) in the aftermath of her family dying in a Neo-Nazi attack. It was terrifying and heart shattering and I owe Kruger an apology. I have always thought of her a beautiful woman who was often miscast, but here she proves that she is capable of a strong, layered performance. This isn’t an easy watch, at all, but if you do see it, please tell me. I’m dying to discuss the ending of this movie so much!



Paddington 2


What a delightful (and frankly necessary) breath of fresh air. (Not coincidentally that’s what I said three years ago about the first one.) I’m all for a delightfully charming movie about a polite bear who teaches us how to be better humans with genuinely clever physical comedy and genuinely moving emotional stakes. Do yourself a favor and go.

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You can read my poem about this film here.


Awards Show Round Up: SAG Awards 2018

So, none of my favorites seem to be winning this season. But, it was still a pretty great night. And I have always loved the “I’m an actor” opening:

I’ve seen I, Tonya finally (a new nominees post is coming tomorrow I promise!) and Allison Janey is great! I still would give the award to Laurie Metcalf I think. But this category is really stacked this year.

Apparently, Sam Rockwell is going to win an Oscar this year. I like him a lot, so I’m not mad in principle, except I feel like shouting into some sort of abyss, “WILLEM DAFOE WAS ROBBED!!!!!”

Unsurprisingly, this was one of my favorite moments of the night:

I know there’s a lot of jokes to be made about how long Nicole Kidman’s speeches are, but she gave this speech with the flu. As you may recall, when I had the flu, I couldn’t keep my eyes open to watch a speech. She’s amazing.

Speaking of good speeches, Sterling…always the best:

Also, I’m happy for the whole This Is Us crew. I know everyone thought it would go to Handmaid’s but I love how SAG always throws a curveball in this category. Remember how many times they gave it to Downton? And Sterling’s face at the announcement was pretty priceless:

(Go to 0:40 for his reaction.)


I would give this award to Saoirse as you know. (Let’s be real I’d give every prize ever to Saoirse.) But Frances is pretty wonderful:

So with this cast win it looks like our Best Picture race is between Three Billboards and Shape of Water which I’m…sort of unenthused about…but I guess I’m team Billboards:

Fashion wise, it was a night of strangely aggressive sequins and bows, but here were my standouts:


Mandy Moore in Ralph Lauren (Photo Credit: Frazer Harrison/Getty Images)


Trcee Ellis Ross in Ralph & Russo (Photo Credit: Rex Shutterstock)


Sarah Silverman in Romona Keveza

Sam Rockwell and Leslie Bibb (Photo Credit: Frederick M. Brown/Getty Images)

24th Annual Screen Actors Guild Awards, Arrivals, Los Angeles, USA - 21 Jan 2018

Saoirse Ronan in Louis Vuitton (Photo Credit: Stewart Cook.WWD/Rex/Shutterstock)


Odeya Rush in Dior Haute Couture (Photo Credit: Frederick M. Brown/Getty Images)


Dakota Fanning in Prada (Photo Credit: Getty Images)


Zoe Kazan in Miu Miu (Photo Credit: Frederick M. Brown/Gett Images)


Award Show Round Up: Golden Globes 2018

Well, that was quite a night huh? I saw a lot of handwringing on the internet last week, about how the Time’s Up call for women to wear black would make the night seem funereal and dour. But it didn’t at all, the sisterhood and solidarity on display felt like a celebration. And while there were still of shady men winning awards, I think it’s pretty clear that the women in that room (and watching along with me on Twitter) don’t have any patience for it anymore.

I know I usually go chronologically with these recaps, but lets be real this moment matters more than anything Seth said at the top (though I did like his “Jokes Seth Can’t Tell” segment):

This moment had me crying and texting my mom, and it was everything. And then it was followed with this and my world was made:

(Sorry about the weird lightning bolt, I coulnd’t find a clean clip of this.)

I wasn’t actually jazzed about a lot the winners. (Willem Dafoe was robbed! As was Timothée Chalamet (screw you Gary Oldman, you talented abuser)! Three Billboards was over-awarded!) But there were some truly spectacular speeches:

I wanted Laurie Metcalf to win this category, but I’m never going to be mad to listen to an Allison Janey speech:

(And I haven’t actually seen I, Tonya yet, but it’s on the calendar for this week!)

Speaking of things I haven’t seen, I still have to watch The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel but I am so here for Amy Sherman-Palladino winning awards and wearing hats:

My favorite won Best Actress in a Comedy, and she’s the cutest thing!

Amy Poehler joked a few years back at this very show, that Frances McDormand is the only awards guest she would save in a fire, and well, there are a lot of women in that room I would save, but I’m pretty happy she got to give this speech even if she was clearly censored even when not swearing. (You can’t say “shift” now apparently):


All in all a great kickoff to the season!

And the all-black look was fantastic as a cultural choice, but also some of the gowns were really cool:


75th Annual Golden Globe Awards - Arrivals

Connie Britton in Lingua Franca sweater (Photo Credit: Getty)



Viola Davis in Brandon Maxwell (Photo Credit: Getty/Steve Granitz)


Samia Wiley (Photo Credit: Elle Sweden)


Kelly Clarkson in Christian Siriano (Photo Credit: Rob Latour/REX/Shutterstock)


Octavia Spencer in Tadashi Shoji and Jessica Chastain in Armani Privé (Photo Credit: Getty)


Laura Dern in Armani Privé (Photo Credit: Neilson Barnard/NBCUniversal/NBCU Photo Bank via Getty Images)

75th Annual Golden Globe Awards - Arrivals

Sally Hawkins in Dior Haute Couture (Photo Credit: Getty)

If you want to support these wonderful women and their truly inspirational work on behalf of women and men who face abuse in various industries, please join me in making a donation to the TIME’S UP Legal Defense Fund!

And the Nominees Are 2018: Round 3

I didn’t get as much awards viewing done over the holidays as I usually do, but I made some progress. No new favorites in this bunch, but nothing too terrible either.

Girl’s Trip


I have a couple of confessions:

  1. I watched this in bed while dealing with a cold
  2. I think its time to admit that broad comedies aren’t really my thing. (Because I hate fun I guess, but generally because I am a Victorian grandmother.)

That being said, Tiffany Haddish, whose supporting performance has earned the nominations that led me to watch this, is really hilarious and charming.

The movie overall is fun fluff, and she’s by far the best part.


Darkest Hour

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This movie suffered for me because it came out the same year as DunkirkIt’s probably not fair, but it was really hard to watch a movie built around the Great Man theory of history of WWII when I still have Christopher Nolan’s images of those poor boys on the beaches all lines up waiting to die. I know Churchill’s historical importance is hard to overstate (and that I probably shouldn’t be basing all of my historical analysis on films) but it was just hard for me to find a rich, white man leaving his servants behind to deign to talk to some citizens in the subway that endearing.

That being said, Gary Oldman is, as always, a magnificent chameleon and he plays Churchill with an endearing childishness that belies his strength of character. Lily James is charming, and it was lovely to see Kristin Scott Thomas. More importantly to me this was a great reminder that Joe Wright is an excellent director, his movies have a beautiful, unique rhythm (most evident in his underrated Anna Karenina adaptation from a few years back) and this ticks long like a clock.

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You can read my poem about this film here.

In the latest rush of accusations Gary Oldman hasn’t been discussed much, but his ex wife accused him of domestic violence, and so I’ve practiced Filmanthropy with a donation to Safe Horizon.

The Shape of Water

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Let me start with the positive, this is visually stunning and wholly unique. Guillermo del Toro and his design team clearly thought through every detail of this world. And the performances are all well realized. Though I’ve liked all of these actors better in different roles. Except maybe Richard Jenkins, he’s particularly great here, but I think I just haven’t seen him in a lot of other substantial roles.

Anyway, I don’t know if this just suffered from inflated expectations, because so many film critics were waxing rhapsodic about this, but I just didn’t fall for it as hard as I wanted to.

At its heart its a fable, with easy to spot heroes and villains and not a lot of ambiguity. Which is fine of course, sometimes I love a fairy tale, but I feel like I couldn’t buy the central love story. Not because it’s between a human woman (Sally Hawkins) and a fish monster (Doug Jones), but because the movie just jumped from then meeting to them being in love, before it had even made it clear to me that they could communicate with each other.

Fantasy can be a tough sell for me, not because I can’t suspend disbelief, but because world building often tales the place of character development, and I think that sort of happened here.


You can read my poem about this film here.

Molly’s Game

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Jessica Chastain is a goddess and I would watch her read a menu.

Aaron Sorkin is a genius of a dialogue and I like the way he frames pretty much anything with gravitas.

Both of these statements are proven by the fact that his combination made me care about a woman who ran a high stakes poke game. This is a good movie, paced well and, for Sorkin script, surprisingly light on speechifying. I could have done with less voice over and armchair psychoanalysis. But, I liked the digs at the patriarchy and Idris Elba (despite the fact that his English accent bled through at moments of heightened emotion), is always fun to watch. Sorkin should direct again. Chastain should be in at least one awards movie a year. Oh, and the government should give Molly Bloom back her money.

P.S. If the Michael Cera character is based on who the internet tells me he is, then Tobey Maguire is a sociopath. Just FYI.


You can read my poem about this film here.



I’ve liked a lot of Writer/Director David Gordon Green‘s work. And I think Jake Gyllenhaal is always an interesting actor to watch, even when I don’t like the movie he’s in, but I was hesitant to see this movie when it came out in theaters to see this movie when it came out in theaters (and seemingly quickly left). I think I had conflated it in my head with the Mark Wahlberg-heroism-porn-looking movie called something like Boston Strong (note: It was actually called Patriots Day). But this is much more nuances and interesting than that.

A biopic of Jeff Bauman, a victim of the Boston Marathon bombing, who was famously photographed being rescued, this is almost an indictment of the idea of a movie like I assume that Wahlberg vehicle is. Bauman didn’t want to be a hero and wasn’t prepared to be a symbol and this movie is an honest portrayal of how fucked up it is that we demand that of the victims of tragedies.

Gyllenhaal gives a deeply lived in performance of a person in pain and he deserves the accolades he’s quietly getting. Tatiana Maslany is also great as his on-again-off-again love who finds herself unexpectedly playing caregiver. The ending takes kind of an abrupt turn into more straightforward biopic land, but it still made me cry, so…I guess I didn’t hate that.


And The Nominees Are 2018: Round 2

So Golden Globes and SAG nominations came out this week! And I’m actually really mad at the HFPA for their inexplicable snub of Greta Gerwig and Jordan Peele, and the SAG nominations are as strange as always. No Post at all? Steve Carrell for Best Supporting Actor but no love for either of the supporting men from Call Me By Your Name? I did appreciate The Big Sick ensemble nod though. Anyway, here’s what I saw this week, and my Baby Driver thoughts since the Globes did rightfully acknowledge that Ansel Elgort is perfectly cast there.

Baby Driver


This movie is slick, cold and dabbled with ultra violence and toxic masculinity and centers around cars. In other words, it is literally everything I hate. But, I loved this. I saw a review that said it was a musical masquerading as a car chase and that sums it up perfectly.

Yes, too many people get carelessly shot, but Baby (Ansel Elgort – perfectly cast) has enough remorse and humanity that I don’t think the movie can be read as an endorsement of that violence. Instead it’s a stylized love story, a highly choreographed dance (both of feet and tires), well cast, directed, and orchestrated. And it will make you feel like you are in your very own movie if you put your earbuds in and crank up the volume on the way home.

Ansel Elgort

You can read my poem about this film here.

Although the allegations against Kevin Spacey hadn’t come to light this summer when I saw this, I have made a filmanthropy contribution to the National Sexual Violence Resource Center’s Relief Fund for Sexual Assault Victims

Three Billboards outside Ebbing, Missouri


I have a long history with Martin McDonagh, the Irish playwright turned filmmaker, who wrote and directed this. And that history is mostly filled with dread. I was assigned his plays in college and there are sections of The Pillowman and The Beauty Queen of Leenane that still haunt my dreams. So, I’m wary of watching his movies, my violence tolerance has grown a bit over the years, but I still don’t seek it out, but then Frances McDormand got nominated, so…I went.

And it was violent, but certainly not likely to give me nightmares. But it will certainly stick in my head. Not just because McDormand continues to be the most badass actor, who manages to convey strength and vulnerability in the same moment. But also, because the story revises really interesting questions about what grief and anger and trauma and revenge and redemption mean, and maybe more interestingly, what they require from us.

Every person in this movie is perfectly cast, but I particularly loved Woody Harrelson as the sheriff called out by Frances’s character’s billboards. But I guess at this point I just love anything Woody does (similarly Lucas Hedges and Peter Dinklage are fantastic here.)

I think it loses its bite a bit by the end, but the ensemble is amazing and the plot tight and thrilling and heartbreaking.



Battle of the Sexes


Firstly,  this isn’t really a comedy. But if I was going to get upset about genre classification each year then I wouldn’t have enough energy to be mad at nominating bodies for snubbing female directors and creators of color.

Anyway, what it is a well made dramatization of an episode in American cultural history that deserves to be better understood. I feel like we throw around the tag line “Battle of the Sexes” without talking much about what it actually was. This movie does a great job of telling the complex story behind the famous match. Bobby Riggs (the always great Steve Carrell – though I think his best performance this year was in Last Flag Flying), was certainly a “chauvinist pig” but his aims were more monetary than political. The filmmakers capture his situation with empathy, but without shying away from the depressing reality that for him, and men like him, women’s fight for equality can be a game or an opportunity for self-promotion, while for Billie Jean King (the really subtle and great Emma Stone) it was make or break, not just for her own career, but for women’s tennis and working women in general.

It was a stacked desk and King navigated expertly, which the movie makes clear, while not omitting how complicated her personal life, as a closed lesbian, married to a man she really cared about was at the time. In fact, the parts of this that will stay with me are about her relationships. They’re also two of the most emotional dialogue free moments for the year so far. One where she watches the woman she’s attracted to (Andrea Riseborough) dance to “Crimson and Clover” and is clearly overcome. And the other is a long shot, much later, of her husband (Austin Stowell) standing mutely in a hotel hallway holding his bags after discovering what’s going on. It crushed me. But yeah, great comedy.


You can read my poem about this film here.

BPM (Beats Per Minute) 


I almost wrote, “my first foreign language film nominee!” But then I remembered I endured The Square, but that’s best forgotten.

This is a beautiful film about ACT UP Paris in the 1990s. It manages the tricky balance of being about AIDS activists without preaching. It captures the way the personal is political in a really lovely and vital way. It’s told with a lose grip on time, allowing the protest to blend into the meeting room onto the dance floor into the bedroom, with a captivating fluidity.

There’s something visceral about the way director Robin Campillo shoots these lives – both public and private – that makes it feel somehow both artful and natural. His camera doesn’t flinch from pleasure or (sometimes extreme) pain. But it never veers into suffering-porn. This type of story is a tightrope, but this movie walks it almost perfectly.


You can read my poem about this film here.



5 More Songs from Julia (and a couple from me)

I don’t know if Julia thought she was starting a series for my blog when she started texting me random song recs, but apparently she was. What can I say, she has good taste in music, and I’ve mostly been listening to Reputation on repeat lately. Oh and this:

Anyway here are her newest picks:

Pretend You’re Missing Me – Betty Who

Lake Tahoe – Jaws of Love

New Rules – Dua Lipa

Sit Next to Me – Foster the People

Borrowed Lives – Pierce Fulton feat. NVDES

Also, this video of two Broadway greats singing T. Swift exists, so Merry Christmas:

And the Nominees Are 2018: Round 1!

Happy Awards Season!

The 2018 Critics Choice nominations have been announced! And I have already seen a bunch of the nominees (this year is already so good you guys, at one point I had 4 movies tied for my favorite film.)

Also, I’ve started a new project, combining two of my great loves, movies and poems. It’s a new site, called Poems from the Pictures. Basically I’m writing a new poem about each movie I see in the theater. I’ll link to poems for movies I review here, but I don’t just write about award nominees over there, so please go check it out! (And share it with your friends.) (The project also has a Twitter account, please follow it!)

OK, enough self-promotion, here’s what I’ve seen so far:



Chris Evans can act. That kid is cute. Jenny Slate is perfect. Watch this on a Saturday afternoon when you feel bad about humanity.


The Big Sick


This is the only movie on this list that I’ve seen twice, but I managed to not take any notes on for a post, which I feel really stupid about, because it combines a lot of my favorite things. Zoe Kazan. Indie romantic comedies. The city of Chicago. Comas. OK I don’t love comas, obviously, but I do love real life love stories and charming characters and this one has all that in spades. Sorry I’m giving short shrift in this review. Just watch it, it’ll make you angry and sad and then happy.




I know I overuse the word remarkable, but this is really a remarkable film. It’s a quintessentially Christopher Nolan piece – sweeping, complicated, immersive, with an innovative narrative structure – but also a classic-feeling WWII picture. The casting is impeccable, even the potential stunt of casting a pop star is quickly forgotten, as each of these men inhabit the desperation of their characters so completely.

I’m not breaking any ground by saying I love this. So instead of waxing rhapsodic about Nolan and his collaborators’ expert artistry I will point out my three favorite choices he/they made.

  1. The minimal dialogue. When you are 95% sure you will die but are being told to wait in a line for a ship that even if you get on it will probably sink, what is there to say really? In a more traditional movie about this battle there are so many opportunities for bombastic Oscar reel speeches, but its much more heart-wrenching to see a tear in Kenneth Brannagh‘s eyes or three boys sitting on a beach passing around a can of water.
  2. Which, also, the casting of actors that are actually 19-20 was such a great choice. So often Hollywood shoots these stories with fully grown, “built,” action heroes. But these men were ordinary young people, and that makes the horror that they lived through (and we live a bit of with them) all the more harrowing.
  3. See this on a big screen (it’s being rereleased for a special awards season engagement). It is immersive and it’s meant to be. My mom and I both jumped and gasped our way through this, especially the sequences in the air.


You can read my poem about this film here.

The Florida Project


I realized weeks after seeing this that I had forgotten to write notes for a review, which sucks because its one of favorite movies of the year. But I’ll try to reconstruct why I loved it.

Firstly, it’s visually appealing. It makes rundown motels look like confections and made Florida wasteland look like a classical landscape painting. But all the artistry in the world wouldn’t matter much to me without the people at the center of it.

Sean Baker takes a story that could have been melodrama, teen mom living on the margins with her young daughter and gives us a humane, warm but not saccharine portrait of a childhood. A lot of the brilliance here is in the casting of both the little girl (Brooklyn Prince) and her mother (Bria Vinaite) both of whom weren’t actors before this, but radiate a kind of pressure. Baker’s work is remarkably naturalistic and it feels less like watching performers and more like peeking in on a life.

That life is precarious though, and as long time readers know, images of children in peril (even when they don’t seem to realize it) usually stress me our so much I can’t enjoy a film (I call this my Beasts of the Southern Wild/Lion phenomenon.) But Baker solves this problem by including Willem Dafoe as a kind, beleaguered motel manager who keeps a watchful eye out for the kids (and their parents). His empathy and sadness for his tenants’ situations never crosses a line into condescension and this movie completely changed my opinion of Dafoe as a performer. Oh, I could gush forever, just go see it.


You can read my poem about this film here.



I wanted to like this movie. And there were sections in it, particularly the earliest sections with the young deaf actress (and Critics Choice nominee!) Millicent Simmonds journeying to 1920s NYC. I like modern takes on classic film technique, and I think I would have loved to watch just her story as a short film.

Which isn’t to say necessarily that I didn’t like the sections set in the 1970s, because they have their own charm, and I tend to like stories that begin disparate and eventually interweave. But, I think the quiet style of director Todd Haynes (which I’ve liked in the past but never quite understood the critical community’s rapturous ton about) doesn’t lend itself will to a story with this much plot. I but this book is charming, but the film left me confused.


You can read my poem about this film here.

Lady Bird


I don’t even know how to write about this movie. I just…love it. It’s honest and warm, well crafted and witty, with wonderfully grounded performances from everyone. (Especially my girl Saoirse Ronan and Laurie MetcalfLaurie Metcalf. Oh and Timotheé Chalamet and Lucas Hedges…and Tracy Letts, literally everyone in the movie.)

I put this in the “Movies That I Related To So Strongly I Can’t Explain Why Without Oversharing” category. (This category now has 2 entries, this and last year’s Edge of Seventeen no coincidence that they are both written and directed by women.) And in this case its even more so, because its set in 2003, the year I started high school and this protagonist left it. The cultural references, and high school theater nerd subculture is perfectly captured. Greta Gerwig clearly lived this life, as someone who lived a similar one, she totally nails it.

I will talk your ear off in person about its perfection when it comes to religion, female friendship (both its strength and fragility), mother-daughter relationships (in all their maddening-complexity), and class tensions in a culture that does not want to acknowledge that i has a class system*. But for this post I want to end with the fact that this movie has such affection for its characters, sure there’s the hindsight is 20/20 moments about how much Lady Bird has to learn, and some cringing at how dumb high schools are in general, but it never veers into mocking. It takes the life of a teenage girl seriously without making it a tragedy. It’s fantastic.


You can read my poem about this film here.

*Seriously seek me out if you want to have these conversations. 

The Square


I’m not sure I can coherently articulate how much I hate this film. Which was really disappointing because I loved Force Majeure (also written and directed by Ruben Östlund). But this was, to quote my boyfriend “nihilistic trash.” To avoid spiraling into the rant I have by now subjected my friends, family, coworkers, and roommate to I will just say 4 things:

  1. It’s too long. (It have Grand Beauty never ending problems.)
  2. I can’t decide if its making fun of pretentious arty people or is for pretentious arty people, but it’s condescending either way.
  3. It’s borderline exploitative of poor and homeless people.
  4. It portrays casual violence in a way that it doesn’t earn. I understand it’s supposed to be a critique of how bystanders don’t help each other, but then it also ridicules those who try for trying. If I’m going to be subjected to images of women being pulled by their hair onto the ground or children being pushed down staircases you better be making a coherent fucking point.

Or, as I emailed Tim the day after we it: “That piece of trash won the P’alme Dor?!?!? I definitely have an awards season nemesis now.


You can read my poem about this film here.



I had heard people rave about R.J. Palcio’s novel for young people, Wonder, seemingly endlessly since it came out in 2012. But I only got around to reading it when the trailer for this movie was released. I (as so often happens) shouldn’t have held out on the book, but I’m glad this movie exists to introduce the Pullman family to a wider audience.

If you have an issue with earnestness (no judgement a few of my favorite people do) then this tale of children learning to overcome their fear and prejudice of a little boy with a genetically malformed (differently formed? I don’t know what the preferred language is on that. I’m sorry!) face, probably isn’t for you. But if you, like me, sometimes need a well acted tear-jerker on a Friday night, you could do a lot worse than this lovely reminder that we’re all carrying burdens, some of them are just easier to hid. (Plus Broadway nerd bonus points for Mandy Patinkin and Daveed Diggs, shoring up as inspirational educators!)

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You can read my poem about this film here.


Thor: Ragnarok


Not going to lie. I did not think I would have to be writing this for awards time. But it’s fun. And Taika Waititi is a really talented director who brought a unique vision to this silly world.


You can read my poem about this film here.


mudbound-posters-00I’m having trouble putting my feelings about this one down on paper. Director and co-writer Dee Rees has created a layered and visually stunning epic of the mid-century American South that brought to mind early Terrance Malick (in the best way.) And not only because she loves a voice over. The acting is a universally stunning. Mary J. Blige is a particular surprise.

The story itself makes for a rough sit. It’s about the mid-century American South after all, but despite its realism about the violence that hung in the air around these characters, Rees never allows her main characters to be anything less than human. That, of course, doesn’t mean that those who aren’t poisoned to a greater and lesser extents by hatred. I’m not going to write a treatise about the original sin of American racism, others have done that better than I ever could, but I think this film does a remarkable job of showing the brutal ways that power, particularly white supremacist, patriarchal power, reasserts itself. (Often by punishing those white people (or men) who refuse to participate in the status quo. It’s a brutal watch, but a vital and important one. And it’s one Netflix, so you don’t even have to ugly cry in public like I did.

Mudbound - Still 4

You can read my poem about this film here.

Call Me By Your Name

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Based on the trailer for this I went out and the book to fill the time before I could see the beauty that is Timothée Chalamet pining after Armie Hammer. It’s a great book, but – and I almost never say this, like I think I can think of maybe 3 other times – this movie matches and maybe even surpasses it.

A lot of its brilliance is stylistic, it’s beautifully shot and edited to make everything on screen seem sumptuous, like if you could just reach out and touch the screen then you would be able to feel everything. This sensuality was present in director, Luca Guadagnino‘s previous work, but I always felt a certain distance from his sharacters. Which is where the richness of author André Aciman and screenwriter James Ivory‘s script come in. Every person here, even those we meet only for a scene, is a fully drawn human being. Even Hammer, how I’ve always liked but often found a bit icy, melts into this world.

I won’t get started on how Chalamet’s raw desire is palpable and gorgeous because I don’t want to cry at my desk. But, speaking of crying, Michael Stuhlbarg (as Chalamet’s father) delivers a monologue at the end of this film that should go down in history as one of the great tear jerker moments in acting history. So glad he’s getting recognition for it.


You can read my poem about this film here.

The Disaster Artist


I should start with 2 facts:

  1. I’ve seen The Room once, 10ish years ago and I wasn’t sober. I saw that appeal, but re-watching something just because its awful isn’t that interesting to me.
  2. I love James Franco. I hear your reasons that you find him insufferable, and I hear you and love him more because of them. Dude goes for things. I admire that, (Hell, he’s sort of the reason I have a blog.)

OK, not that all of that has been disclosed, I…liked this fine. I appreciated that it didn’t feel like one long joke at Tommy Wiseau, when the first trailed made it seem it might be. But, despite good performances from both Franco brothersbrothers and surrounding cast I couldn’t quite get on the level of love for him (and Greg Sestero) the movie clearly has. Instead of being appreciative of the commitment these two had to their dreams (and the Francoian drive to do the thing you want to do, no matter how unlikely or strange) I came away mostly sad. Not for Wiseau, I’m not convinced that he’s not an alien, at the very least he doesn’t seem to take in others’ criticism of his work. But for Sestero who, as far as I can tell has basically been trapped by Wiseau into a very strange life. I’m overthink this I know, but while parts are very  funny, the movie just left me a bit deflated.


You can read my poem about this film here.

5 Songs from Julia

Hello every one! I know I’ve been a negligent blogger this year. But Critic’s Choice nominations come out tomorrow so awards season posts will ramp up very soon!

In the meantime, here is a mini-playlist frequent-adventure-costar Julia sent me in a text last week:

One Foot – Walk the Moon

Surround Me – LÉON 

So I Met Someone –  VHS Collection 

Love You Like That – Dagny

Desire Lines – Deerhunter 

(This one we both discovered through watching Busy Phillips’s Instagram story, which I cannot recommend highly enough. As I said to Jules a few weeks ago, she’s the best virtual friend to have.)

Also bonus – Julia and I may try to learn the HAIM girl walking based choreography at some point, all are welcome to audition for the role of third fake sister.

Thanks for the free blog content Jules! Here’s a picture of us when it was warm out and we were in the same city: