Wednesday, January 11, 2017

Best of 2016, Part 1: Top 10, Zen Awards

I find myself in a strange position this year. Simply put: movies have been something of an afterthought of late.

If you've known me for any amount of time, or, hell, spoken to me for more than 6 1/2 minutes, you know that's not something I'd be bound to say. Just the fact that I've got a movie blog and have been posting lists like this in form or another for 11 years now (sweet kettle of corn I am ancient and horrible) is a relatively sizable hint that I toss myself at movies with a bit more enthusiasm and (dare I say) pizazz than the joe-average moviegoer.

And yet that's just not worked out for me this year. Rather than listing the veritable cornucopia (cornucopiae?) of responsibilities, stresses, woes, etc. that have followed me around this year like love-sick puppies, suffice to say that this past year--and the last six-ish months in particular--have been pretty definitively the busiest of my short and silly life thus far. Which, unfortunately, means that I haven't been able to dedicate the time to movies that I normally ought. Even in the context of writing this--I imagine these posts will be somewhat rushed and truncated, because I'm leaving for a 4-month, 3 continent extravaganza in 5 days, and shockingly a whole big bucket of my mental processing space is stuck on that.

So, for the first time since high school, I'm going to offer some kind of New Years resolution: this year I will be better at movies. Even if I have to work all day, I am going to not be the kind of lazy sad-sack who just stares into space when I get home; I'm going to stare into space at movies, and it will be delightful. I don't care if I don't finish my work until 3.00 and have to wake up at 7.00--that will be the perfect time to watch that three hour long Hungarian epic about potatoes I've been meaning to see.
(Note: this resolution is going to have to wait a few months though, because see above, re: trip, extravaganza, etc.)

The point of this rant? This year I've only seen 50 movies. I know, I know, 50 movies from one calendar year seems like a giddy luxury to people who only went to the theater twice this year, but for me it's a jaw-dropping, legitimately embarrassing tally. Note that my record for one calendar year is 98, and my average is easily in the 80s. Oh well. Part of this is no doubt due to the wackiness that I previously described, as well as the fact that I'm writing this a full month earlier than usual--there are tons of movies I'd love to see that just haven't expanded to my corner of the world yet. And as usual, I'm horrendously lacking in foreign films, because we just don't deserve them in the middle of the country (every year for 11 years I've had to write that, and every year I roll my eyes just a little harder). So apologies to movies like 20th Century Women, Live by Night, Patriots Day, Florence Foster Jenkins, Toni Erdmann, Land of Mine, Neruda, The Handmaiden, etc., etc., etc.

The other takeaway: I haven't had the time (or willpower) to seek out as many obscure movies that you may have never heard of, which means that my list is a bit more commercial than usual. Not that there's anything wrong with that--it just means that you may have actually seen some of these movies. The horror!

So here's the format: I'll kick things off with a top 20 list (which, admittedly, seems a bit excessive when I've only seen 50 movies, but I'm nothing if not excessive), followed by the annual Zen awards (preceded by the annual 'please someone give me a better title for my awards' award for things Joe says every year without fail). So if you can grit your teeth and wade through the breathtaking abuse of the English language and common decency that I am about to unleash, you'll be rewarded with a bit of silliness at the end (still no common decency though). Oh happy day! Catch it all in breathtaking Cinemascope after the jump.

There's no Cinemascope here. Dreams don't really come true. Sorry.

In interest of transparency, here's a list of all the things I've seen this year. If you loved something and it doesn't show up on my list, check to see if it actually made it in front of my eyeballs--if I haven't recommend it to me!

10 Cloverfield Lane, Arrival, A Bigger Splash, Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk, Captain America: Civil War, Captain Fantastic, The Conjuring 2, Deadpool, Deepwater Horizon, Disorder, Doctor Strange, Don’t Breathe, The Dressmaker, Everybody Wants Some!!, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Fences, Finding Dory, Ghostbusters, Green Room, Hacksaw Ridge, Hail, Caesar!, Hell or High Water, Henry Gamble’s Birthday Party, Hidden Figures, Indignation, Jackie, The Jungle Book, Kubo and the Two Strings, La La Land, Lion, The Little Prince, The Lobster, Love and Friendship, Loving, Manchester by the Sea, Moana, Moonlight, Nocturnal Animals, Other People, Passengers, Queen of Katwe, Rogue One, The Shallows, Silence, Star Trek Beyond, Swiss Army Man, Warcraft, The Witch, X-Men: Apocalypse, Zootopia

So here goes! Because I have a million things to do (and should have done them by yesterday), I'm going to try and limit myself to two sentences per movie. I'm sure I'll end up running over brevity somewhere down the line and will fail at this goal, but it's not a lie if you believe it's true.

Honorable mentions: they didn't make it into the top 20, but I'm still grateful for the claustrophobic silliness of Don't Breathe, the uneasy silences in Disorder, and the go-get-'em spirit of Hidden Figures.

20. Love and Friendship (dir. Whit Stillman)

A whirling little confectionary full of 19th century shade, foppish stupidity, and impossibly constructed poofy dresses. Bonus points for Kate Beckinsale's side-eye shade and the good-natured stupidity of all the men around her.

19. Hail, Caesar! (dir. Joel and Ethan Coen)

If every element of this movie were as on fire as its strongest parts (Alden Ehrenreich's clueless cowboy heartthrob! A new record in homoerotic subtext in a tapdance scene! Scarlet Johannson is a mermaid!)--this movie would be one for the ages. Still, despite its wooly plot, Hail, Caesar! is wall-to-wall joy and zaniness.

18. The Dressmaker (dir. Jocelyn Moorehouse)

What a zany, ridiculous exercise in throwing everything at the wall and seeing what sticks--a comedy of manners and fashion in the Australian outback that takes a hard right into Kill Bill territory in its last act. The Dressmaker is camp extravaganza--the costumes are outlandish, the (melo)drama would make a soap opera blush, and someone gets their Achilles tendon slashed by a kitchen knife--why not?

17. 10 Cloverfield Lane (dir. Dan Trachtenberg)

What a precise little chamber piece of a movie--there's not one element out of place, and not one ounce of fat, until the last 15 minutes throw caution to the winds and remind us that there are worse things than sitting in a bunker with a sociopath.

16. Zootopia (dir. Byron Howard, Rich Moore, Jared Bush)

Dazzlingly designed, clever to a fault, and kind of shockingly aggressive in its politics, Zootopia is Disney out-Pixar-ing Pixar. Plus we get Shakira as a politically activated bubble gum pop gazelle surrounded by a cadre of fey back-up dancing tigers--if that's not all you need from the movies, then I can't help you.

15. Henry Gamble's Birthday Party (dir. Stephen Cone)

Cone continues the low-key examination of queer identity in Christian communities of the American South that he started with The Wise Kids (one of the best films of 2011), and we're all better for it. Henry Gamble... is a sprawling ensemble piece, presenting ten different ways to look at one problem that, at its core, shouldn't be a problem at all.

14. A Bigger Splash (dir. Luca Guadagnino)

A tactile, vibrant and violent panorama as only Guadagnino delivers, acted to perfection by the fierce foursome of Tilda Swinton, Ralph Fiennes, Matthias Schoenaerts, and Dakota Johnson (can it get better?) (also, I don't care what you say, Dakota Johnson is a mammoth talent and all of you are wrong). Like no other director working, Guadagnino makes movies that feel like you can touch them--all rough limestone walls and billowing fabrics and a sun so hot you can taste your own sweat.

13. Kubo and the Two Strings (dir. Travis Knight)

Let's all just agree that Laika studios comes out with the loveliest animated movies this side of Studio Ghibli and leave it at that. But Kubo is more than it's heart-stopping animation and modeling (guys, stop motion is the best)--its gently beating heart is one of grief, the power of storytelling, and the possibility of redemption.

12. Hell or High Water (dir. David Mackenzie)

Sure, some have called it Coen Brothers lite (and it's a fair claim), but Hell or High Water is nevertheless a bracing portrait of the kinds of down-on-their-luck rural communities often ignored in movies, as well as an examination of the kinds of violence that come from desperation and a desire to be heard. It's a grimly relevant film for 2016, and it manages to paint both sides of its equation--criminals vs. cops--with an empathetic eye.

11. The Lobster (dir. Yorgos Lanthimos)

I have no idea how Yorgos Lanthimos (the director of Dogtooth) perceives the world, nor why, but I'm glad he's decided he's going to inflict his alien gaze on the rest of us. The strangest but somehow logical plot of the year (single people get turned into animals unless they an find a partner at a vacation resort!) writhes in its own skin, morphing seamlessly from unbelievably black comedy to improbably compelling romance and back to a scathing critique of said romance and back again in one quick breath.

(I've yet to break my 2 sentences rule--mainly due to a dubiously deployed army of colons and em dashes, but hey. I do what I can.)

10. The Witch (dir. Robert Eggers)

A movie whose soul is black to its core:a brutal deconstruction of faith, family, and the American dream, gleefully interspersed with images of babies being ground into stew, birds eating nipples, demonic goats, and the most joyfully wicked children this side of The White Ribbon. The Witch looks at all of the values on which America was allegedly founded, and decides it would rather go dance naked in the woods with the devil instead. 

9. Manchester by the Sea (dir. Kenneth Lonergan)

Just as upbeat as The Witch, with less graphic violence but a higher body count nonetheless (hooray!)--Manchester acknowledges that some things simply can't be undone. Manchester gathers an array of various pieces pertaining to its main character in the process of grieving--his past, present, and future--and the people around him, but refuses to assemble them, because returning to the moment before is fundamentally impossible. 

8. Fences (dir. Denzel Washington)

Sure, it's not particularly cinematic, but when you've got source material like August Wilson's play, sometimes its better to leave well enough alone. Fences offers a dizzying array of top-notch performances portraying characters whose stories are all too frequently left untold.

7. Loving (dir. Jeff Nichols)

Rather than sensationalizing, Nichols' approach to the landmark court case on interracial marriage constantly choose the path of more resistance--attempting to evoke, the woozy stares and half-remembered silence at the heart of its core relationship. The film could go big, but it never does--and that's where it gets its power.

6. Moonlight (dir. Barry Jenkins)

An aching triptych of love, loss, and the struggle to be--Moonlight investigates intersectional identities with a light hand: the ways in which poor, black, and gay cause friction when pressed together. Jenkins' empathetic and roving eye catches the things we didn't know we weren't seeing--the whole film is significant glances, pregnant silences, and little gestures that add up to a lifetime of searching and yearning.

5. Arrival (dir. Denis Villeneuve)

A profoundly important film in 2016--one that suggests communication is our most potent and dangerous weapon, that suggests that the future is only possible in a context of empathy and collaboration, that suggests the lush lives that can be found after finding a way approach the world with new eyes. Arrival's theses on love and time may not be hugely complex (love is no function of the amount of time it's given, and time is fluid), but I still found them prescient and moving. And it doesn't hurt that the movie's gorgeous to look at and listen to.

(Dammit I got so far with my 2 sentence rule, but now that I've broken it, I've got no reason to hold onto it, so gird your loins for some profound abuses of your and my time.)

4. Jackie (dir. Pablo Lorrain)
Lorrain takes a worn genre--the biopic--and mercilessly turns it on its head, refusing to romanticize its subject or claim any kind of insight into the thoughts of its enigmatic lead character. Rather lionizing Jackie Kennedy or attempting to codify her legacy, Jackie instead contents itself with considering the walls the woman built around her and the inherent performativity that comes with a public persona. Jackie is all about pomp and circumstance--both thematically and stylistically, dissecting Kennedy's drive to make her husband's legacy manifest itself in tangible flourishes with the film's own sense of Grand Guignol staging. Bonus points to Mica Levi's slippery, subversive score that constantly denies the audience the chance for easy emotional catharsis.

3. Green Room (dir. Jeremy Saulnier)
It's been a very long time since I've wanted to leave a movie theater--not because the movie was bad, but because it was so tense and ugly that I figured I couldn't take much more. Green Room is just such a film: using the simplest of formulae (punk band trapped in a room, surrounded by neo nazis, add weapons, increase heat, let simmer, have nightmares), Saulnier crafts a thriller of such piano wire tension and ticking perfection that pushes a paring knife into the fleshy spot under your rib, and then does it again and again until literally film's last minute. Green Room is a queasy, vomit-drenched look at America gone wrong--a group of youths literally trapped by their own apathy for a world looking to consume them. This movie sears like a flashbulb in all the right ways--moments of shocking and sudden gore, as well as intricately and ridiculously structured dialog (I'll never forget the main character's reaction after one particular bout of violence "Flabbergasted that motherfucker!" Straight manic genius, that.).

2. Silence (dir. Martin Scorsese)
A difficult movie if ever there was one--like so many of the movies on the list, Silence's soul is jet-black. Scorsese places his main characters--two Jesuit priests in 17th century Japan--into the most unforgiving conditions and then mercilessly tests their faith and morals until there's nothing left. The title refers to a world without a god: what happens when you are given a choice between renouncing the God you love and watching a friend die--and what happens when it feels like that God isn't watching? Silence is a three-hour exploration of the still, small space in a person of faith's mind between their prayers and the seeming void into which they are cast--and it is a profoundly difficult space to occupy. Scorsese's film offers no easy answers, provides no catharsis, and takes no joy in the trials it portrays. It simply does what I imagine Scorsese himself (a lifelong, embattled Catholic)--it questions, and it questions, and it questions, and then it leans forward, slowly, almost imperceptibly, straining to hear a voice from the void.

1. La La Land (dir. Damien Chazelle)
Here's a quick thought experiment. Think of the three or four most moving, impactful, and important moments of your life. Now--were any of them happy memories, or were they all grim slogs through various levels of depression and pain? If you're like me (and most human beings), at least some of them were joyous, buoyant things that lifted you up--and that's good, and that's right. So here's the question--why do we inherently dismiss films that attempt to evoke these emotions? Most critics (and people) will use 'light' as a way to dismiss a film as being inherently less important than a film filled with heavy drama. But isn't it important--scratch that, isn't it essential to have films that reflect the joyous and the buoyant aspects of the human condition? Why can't a film like Bring it On (an absolute masterpiece of joy) be as important as something like Saving Private Ryan? That's my thought, anyway--I'm 100% in the tank for movies that can convincingly evoke the sense of weightlessness that accompanies the best moments in life. It's arguably the hardest thing a movie can do.
And La La Land does it in spades. This is not a perfect film (man it would be nice if Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling could sing or dance, and the film's racial politics are....misguided/oblivious at best), but it is a joyous, buoyant, weightless one, and I can't think of anything better with which to crown the malignant shit sandwich that was 2016. La La Land is a 2 hour exercise of lifting people up and placing them, however briefly, on a cloud of their own making. The fact that it is stylistically daring and dazzling in every way--the colors! the camera choreography!--is just icing on the cake. And it reveals itself in its final moments to be part of my all-time favorite sub-genre (which I can't actually say without spoiling the ending, so ask if you're curious), as well as being a bit wiser and more world-weary than we can imagine--every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end; this is true and it's lovely and it's sad all at the same time, and La La Land gets that. So there we are--it's not particularly creative of me to pick La La Land for the top spot, but some years require the presence of joy, and this was one of them.

Well there's that. Allow me to take a quick breather (a phrase which here means "I need to go buy pants, and you can't stop me), and then I'll come back and spend a little time being silly. Hooray!

I didn't get pants, but I got gorilla tape and travel-sized toothpaste. Little victories. Moving on to what's important...

The Best Scenes of the Year

10. No Dames-Hail, Caesar!
A faux-big Hollywood musical number about sailors made almost exclusively out of wide-eyed innuendo and choreography so innocently filthy you won't know whether to gasp or break out your tap shoes. Plus--a singing an tap-dancing Channing Tatum.

9. Opening/how big is it?-Henry Gamble's Birthday Party
An opening few minutes that vacillate wildly between teen-fantasy raunch, bashful attempts at closeted flirtation, and the jarring but somehow expected re-introduction of the heavily Christian atmosphere in which the movie takes place. A bold, brazen mix of sensuality world-building, and character work, all accomplished in three minutes of teenagers talking in bed together. 
(no youtube clip, but the movie's on Netflix instant.)

8. First Attack-Green Room
I went back and forth on which of Green Room's cringe-inducing action beats to include, but finally settled on the one without spoilers. Our intrepid band of punk rockers decide to try a novel idea (hey, I know, let's open the door and let the neo nazis in!). It doesn't go super.
(note: don't watch if you don't feel like seeing some gore.)

7. Another Day of Sun-La La Land
Hard to think of a more joyous and (heh) sun-filled opening to any movie in recent memory--a traffic jam morphs into a communal celebration of all the highs and lows that LA has to offer. The moment an extra opens up the back of a truck to reveal a jazz band was the moment when I knew this movie had me sold.
(no clip, but this movie's in theaters, and why haven't you seen it?)

6. Panic Attack-Manchester by the Sea
A tough scene in a movie full of them--having handled his father's death relatively well, Patrick (Lucas Hedges) loses it on a dime at the reminder that his father's body can't be buried until spring--his resulting meltdown is as effecting and natural as just about anything else in theaters this year.
(still no clip, but this movie's also in theaters, so you know what you have to do.)

5. Montage-Swiss Army Man
Everything that's good about this by turns fantastic and horrendously bad farting corpse movie: whimsy and giddy insanity as a boy and his magic corpse learn all the different things said magic corpse can do in the woods while happily singing along to their own theme music.

4. Entering the city-Zootopia
Pay attention, future sci-fi movies: this is how you do world-building--a quick and kinetic introduction to the world of the film, ingeniously realized, set to the stentorian and inevitable roars of a Shakira power ballad.

3. What about my life?-Fences
An acting showcase for Denzel Washington and Viola Davis in particular--and the moment where Fences subverts the expectations I'd had for it. Davis' character--a working class housewife--had generally served the supportive wife trope until now, but here her character turns everything on its head and reminds her husband that her interior life is as rich as his, and her goals and dreams are no less valid--and from this point on it becomes her movie. 
(It's only 30 seconds, but oh well:)

2. Dream Ballet-La La Land
I don't want to say too much for fear of spoiling the movie, but the last 10 minutes of this movie grab your heart and toss it in the gutter, reminding you that love is super and all, but sometimes it's not enough.
(see above, re: clip, none, go to the theater.)

1. Would that it were so simple-Hail, Caesar!
Would also probably be my favorite short film of the year if I saw enough short films. The gist: someone in Hollywood thinks it's a good idea for notorious cowboy actor Hobie Doyle to play the romantic lead in a period piece about British people. It's not. What ensues is the best fish-out-of-water comedy and well-intentioned violation of the English language in years. This thing has me belly-laughing like an idiot.

The "You're Not This Gay, but Dammit, You're Trying" Award for Excellence in Homoeroticism
Can we all take a second to recognize and appreciate the way Bucky and the Falcon fight over Captain America like they're both bitchy ex-boyfriends? Because it's spectacular. Extra brownie points for Cap having infinity times more chemistry with Bucky than with his pseudo love interest (side bar--who the sweet hell thought it would be good to have Cap romance his dead ex-girlfriend's niece? Because no, stop that.)

Moment Most Likely to Make You Pee with Pure Pleasure
La La Land, obviously--specifically, during the "Someone in the Crowd" musical number--itself a perfect little contraption of joy color--the music builds to a head, the camera circling to the second level of an outdoor terrace, and then for a moment the music drops out and a dancer flips two stories down into a pool and the camera follows him straight in. From there the number accelerates into an abstract whirl of color that culminates in literal fireworks--it's heady, heart in your throat stuff, and it turned my eyes into stars.

Movie Most Obviously Designed to Pander to my every Whim
Arrival: seriously, a sci-fi movie about trying to learn a new language? Montages of mapping and translating written characters? Amy Adams gets to publish a book called "Learning to Speak Heptapod?" Be still my heart.

Most Accurate Representation of every Garage Band You've Seen or Heard
There's a special level of good-willed terrible reached by every high school band, and god bless Manchester by the Sea for letting its onscreen high school band 'Stentorian' be just as high-energy and abysmal as they should be.

Can We Talk About The Lobster?
Seriously, this movie is crackers. Someone fakes their death in a hot-tub and then proposes. There are slow-motion montages of hunting single people in the woods with tranquilizers. The main characters invent their own sign language so they can flirt. Their primary bond is that they're both near-sighted. Man I love this movie.

Special Award: the "If You Must Blink, Do it Now" Award for hey, wow, Laika sure makes pretty movies
I can never turn down a good stop-motion animation movie, and Kubo and the Two Strings pushes the envelope in every way possible. Seriously, go look at it and just luxuriate.

Best Third Act Twist That We All Probably Should Have Seen Coming
The Dressmaker--seriously, a movie about (you guessed it) making dresses morphs into a bloody revenge thriller that rivals anything by Tarantino for blood and mean-spirited wit.

Best Teenaged Drag Routine that Makes No Sense, but hey, Sure, You Do You, Kid
Other People--already exemplary as a movie for its refreshing eye toward queer friendships--and for allowing more than one kind of gay person in the movie--Other People gets extra points for its gonzo drag routine put on by a pre-teen for a simultaneously flabbergasted and strangely appreciated crowd of family and friends.
(the scene isn't on Youtube. Bummer.)

Your Bi-Annual Reminder that I Love Captain America More than Life Itself
Here it is.

Four for Marvel! Good for you Marvel! You go Marvel!
I kind of hate the superhero bandwagon (there are so many kinds of movies to see, but so many people only get out to the theater for franchises and sequels involving various comic properties which are fine on their own, but still, they really shouldn't be the only kind of movie we're seeing), but I have to go credit where credit is due with the inventiveness on display in Doctor Strange--time and space-bending magic, sassy smoke eye on the villains, poofy sentient cloaks--it's fun stuff.

The "Are you serious? The plot of your entire movie is a blowjob? It's JUST A BLOWJOB" Award for the Most Easily Avoided Plot Crisis
Indignation. Heck of a lot of good things and great performances happening around the edges of this movie, but I just can't look away from the fact that the summary of this movie is "a backseat blowjob leads to THE KOREAN WAR AND INSTITUTIONALIZATION." Everyone take a deep breath now.

Best Part of a Terrible Movie
In Everybody Wants Some!!, two of its dopey frat bro protagonists accidentally wander into a punk concert and end up loving it--this scene catches the 'sure, why the hell not' experimental air of college that the whole movie desperately wants to evoke (but mostly just ends up staring at butts instead).

Worst Part of a Good Movie
I loved the first 87 minutes of Swiss Army Man, but the last 10 minutes are so toxic and stupid that they undermine everything that came before them. Weepy indie masculinity wins out and suddenly the movie demands that we take the farting corpse movie very, very seriously. Boooooo.

And finally...

The Worst Films of the Year!

One of the beautiful silver linings of not seeing very many movies this year is that I just didn't have time for all the garbage. And granted, I saw plenty of garbage anyway, but I am somehow lacking the vitriol with which I normally approach this section. In fact, I don't even know what I'm going to put as the very worst. It'll be an adventure!

(Fun fact--I was going to have Warcraft on here, because I acknowledge that it's objectively terrible, but if we're being totally honest I absolutely loved that movie. It's garbage, but it's my garbage and I'll do what I want with it.)

5. Finding Dory
Maybe a controversial choice--and I don't necessarily thing it's objectively or empirically worse than, say, X-Men: Apocalypse, but I've got it on here because, despite its various charms, it is the most bold-faced and lazy cash grab I saw this year; and coming from Pixar, no less! It has joys and wit, but they're dead-eyed and mindless, designed specifically so you can talk about how funny ________ was on the way to the car before never thinking about it again. You can do better, Pixar.

4. Ghostbusters
God I wish this movie weren't awful. I've no idea how it happened--Kevin Feig is super, and Melissa McCarthy and Kristen Wiig together have never made me less than thrilled, but everything in this movie was DOA. Not even a hunked-out tragically slow-witted Chris Hemsworth could save it. And weird racial politics to boot. Oh well.

3. Everybody Wants Some!!
This one earns points for ideology alone--you can't make a realistic movie about a group of profoundly misogynistic horn-dogs without becoming a movie with the same spirit. I can only watch so many minutes of perpetually tipsy nineteen year olds taking off bras before I start asking what I'm doing with my life.

2. The Little Prince
What an atrocious dumpster fire of a movie. Shoe-horning a poorly thought out and conceived modern framing device around an assumed love for the original text, The Little Prince accomplishes nothing but making me wish I were reading the book instead.

1. The Conjuring 2
All the first film's best instincts--of which there were quite a few--curbstomped and thrown in the river, to be replaced with silly CGI gumby men and crazy-eyed ridiculousness (and not the good kind). I'll admit that the entire world is better for having Patrick Wilson crooning "Fools Rush In" at the camera, but that's the only silver lining--watch that scene on youtube, and bury the rest of the footage in a sarcophagus so it can curse some foolhardy film archeologist in 100 years. 

1 comment:

  1. I might give The Lobster a try, I think it's on Amazon Prime. I'm not ready for The Green Room, it's my new Apt Pupil. Thank you for your reviews. Super excited to watch these movies.
    The Little Prince is so so horrible. If I would of read your review before I watched it, it would of saved me from this just not cool movie.