Hello, everyone! Let me start this post by saying I have a bone to pick with critics. Why can’t everyone like what I like? But seriously, sometimes I watch a movie, mostly in the horror genre, and I’m bewildered by the critical reviews. They watch It Follows and say it’s one of the best horror movies of the decade, I say it’s a pretty yawnfest. They watch The Visit and praise the film for its “satisfying blend of thrills and laughs” (Rotten Tomatoes) and I collapse to the ground, decrying a world that deems a lukewarm found footage movie with a stupid twist to be acceptable, or even worse, scary. What confuses me the most, however, is the reaction from critics to a movie like Don’t Breathe. How can a group who can find the sudden appearance of a tall man terrifying somehow stomach a movie as disturbing and morally ambiguous as this one? Spoilers Ahead (you’ve been warned!)
Hello, everyone! For my 100th blog post, I’m reviewing Revolutionary Road, a phenomenal book and a keystone in the suburban disillusionment genre, which includes icons like American Beauty and Mad Men. Chances are, if you’ve viewed either of these works, the fundamental themes and character beats in Richard Yate’s Revolutionary Road won’t be, well, revolutionary, but their timeliness and sincerity is what makes the novel a must-read. Looking back on the Fifties from our lofty pedestals, it’s clear to see the stifling role that traditional society played in the lives of young Americans, but writing this novel in the wave of traditionalism, Yates’ novel was an urgent voice against the dangers of complacency.
Hello, everyone! I want to start by apologizing for the massive screw up with gifs on my blog over the past 2 weeks. I didn’t realize that if I deleted gifs from my media library, they would also be deleted from the posts. That seems like something that shouldn’t need to happen, but anyway, PSA: do not delete images from your media library! Don’t do it! It took me five hours to fix everything. Again, I repeat, don’t do it! This has been a PSA.
Hello, everyone! Today I finally get around to writing a review about I Am The Pretty Thing That Lives in the House, a movie that is more or less a painting stretched out into 87 tedious minutes. With a title that unique and descriptive, I was expecting something a bit more interesting than the minimalist set of tableaux that director Oz Perkins believes makes a movie. Yes, Oz Perkins, as in the son of Anthony Perkins, the iconic actor who played Norman Bates in Psycho. The only thing that IATPTTLITH (even the acronym is too long!) has in common with the genius of Psycho is that they are both technically horror movies. I guess in this day and age with an orange buffoon as president-elect, anything can be anything.
Hello, everyone! This is a blog meant to be entertaining and fluffy, but unfortunately, in these dark times, it’s impossible to be apolitical. So before I write a post about I Am The Pretty Thing That Lives In The House, I want to take a brief moment to talk about the results of the election.
Whatever you may think of Donald Trump, the fact is that he is going to president. He won more electoral college votes than Hillary, which I guess means that the majority of American technically wanted this. This is my first election I’ve ever voted in and it honestly makes me never want to vote again. My friends and I spent the night alternately crying, shouting, pacing, and staring at disbelief at CNN. When I woke up, and saw that Obama had formally congratulated Trump on his “victory,” I started to cry again. My feelings were echoed by my teachers and almost every student in my classes. Red eyes and long silences abounded.
I don’t understand why a country like ours has repudiated its values in such an extreme manner. We’re so smug, so superior with our knight in shining armor American philosophy, yet our actions show that it’s nothing more than a facade. We claim to be progressive, a country of immigrants, of inclusion, of liberty and choice. We claim to value equality. Yet last night, 49 percent of the American electorate voted for a man who gleefully rejects all of those values. We rejected a supposedly “crooked” politician for a man who is literally embroiled in civil and criminal lawsuits. And in doing so, we showed the world that America may say that it cares about the rights of minorities, the dignity of women, and freedom of religion, but those words are worthless. As a women, I’m ashamed, but I’m also immensely hurt. I see how half the country views me. I, and every women like me, am nothing more than an object to be groped, to be shamed, to be insulted, and eventually, to be thrown away. The fact that 42 percent of American women, 42 PERCENT, voted for a man who views them as trash, is incomprehensible. It makes me sick.
I know that there are many people in America who voted for Trump because they were in pain, and he was the only one who was “listening.” I understand that, I empathize, and it’s clear that the result of this election shows a systemic problem in the way that political parties reach out to the impoverished and disillusioned white men in our country. But may I just say that for those other Trump supporters, the ones who voted merely because they would rather have Trump in the White House than Hillary, you should be ashamed. You may not agree with Trump’s beliefs, but you condone them nonetheless. If anything, that’s worse.
I guess the worst part of it is the embarrassment. I’m embarrassed for Clinton, who had to concede in a humiliating fashion to a man who didn’t deserve to be on the same stage as her, let alone beat her in the presidential election. I’m embarrassed for Obama, who had to congratulate Trump, even though everything Obama has said thus far in the campaign has displayed his belief in the former’s idiocy. I’m embarrassed for Romney, for Bush, for every Republican who justly opposed him and now has to reconcile. Most of all, I’m embarrassed for other countries and the fact that they have to embrace a president like Trump for the sake of alliances.
As a young voter, I wasn’t expecting a miracle in this election. I know that our country is deeply divided and that no democracy is perfect. I guess by expecting our country to elect a just, honest, ethical, inclusive president, I revealed my naivete. So I’ll be naive a little longer and hope, against all evidence, that everything will be okay.
Hello, everyone! It’s been almost a month since I’ve posted on this blog, but do not despair, for I’ve returned. Today I watched a uniquely chilly film called We Are What We Are, directed by Jim Mickle, who also directed Cold in July and Stakeland. We Are What We Are is a family psychological drama with horror elements that has the aesthetics of a refined backwoods western and the suspense of a thrilling mystery. A movie influenced by too many genres can turn out muddled, but Mickle’s clear, cold direction keeps the film focused and compelling from start to finish.
Hello, everyone! I hope you’ve enjoyed your last few weeks of summer and are ready to dive into fall! Today I wanted to take a break from reviewing horror movies and talk about my favorite subject: crazy fairytales. I’ve read my “King Thrushbeards” and “The Goose Girl” and even “The Three Little Men in the Wood,” but while all of them are twisted, none quite hold a candle to the special act of cruelty embodied in the Grimm Brother’s tale “The Girl Without Hands.” Even the title is a doozy.
Hello, everyone! My last review of Creep was fairly negative, so I promised to write a positive review to balance that out. The first horror movie I watched last week was a chilly little horror called Last Shift, directed by Anthony DiBlasi, who has directed a bunch of other horror movies and was the executive producer for Midnight Meat Train, which I haven’t seen but heard was a great film. The film is small and contained in atmosphere, but nonetheless quite ambitious. It’s the type of movie that scared me in such a way that I would track my cursor across the progression bar at the bottom of the screen to see the next image before it played, just so I could prepare myself.
Hello, everyone! I watched two horror movies this week, one that was surprisingly awesome, and one that was not-surprisingly un-awesome. Since I watched the un-awesome one tonight, I’ll review that one first. Here’s the lesson I learned from watching Creep: if you think Mark Duplass would make a bad horror movie, trust your gut. Don’t listen to Reddit. Even they have bad taste.
Hello, everyone! Welcome to my first real post in over twenty days. I’ve been adjusting to college lately, so I haven’t had time to watch anything new. If anything, I’ve regressed into re-watching nostalgic favorites (my friends and I had a binge watching session of Glee this weekend), including Tangled. I’ve always been a fan of this movie, but it’s not until I watched it last night that I realized that it’s a tour de force. From its dazzling animation style, to its gorgeous original soundtrack, to its detailed look at an abusive maternal relationship, Tangled earns its place asDisney’s best princess movie, and even, if I dare say myself, one of Disney’s best movies overall.