feature

“Will haunt you after it’s over . . . makes us think about the role that food plays in our lives—both as social beings and creatures of the earth.” –Vox
Watch Feast of the Epiphany and support Museum of the Moving Image! The first film from Reverse Shot is now available online for a special week-long Thanksgiving run.

interview
By Eric Hynes | November 20, 2020

"There is something going on right now, all over the world. We all feel we are all together in this. We do not really know anymore how societies function. We do not really trust that those in power are really governing in our interests."

feature
By Shonni Enelow | November 17, 2020
American ID

In the end, Jimmie cannot lay claim to the house as he wants to, cannot stabilize and contain his feelings about his family and himself. But the greater loss is that the city has no place for Mont’s theater, no shared spaces in which we might be other to ourselves.

feature
By Chloe Lizotte | November 10, 2020
Event Horizon

“Interact with story” encapsulates how the largest media companies see experimentation as PR gloss, which may be residue of early-net transmedia marketing campaigns.

feature

Every Halloween, we present a week’s worth of perfect holiday programming. This year's lineup: Pulse, Host, Brain Damage, Let's Scare Jessica to Death, The Velvet Vampire, Deathdream, and The Devil and Daniel Webster.

review
By Jeff Reichert | October 30, 2020

Fire Will Come, with its single location and small cast, is a more focused work than Mimosas, but maintains a similar sense of possibility as the earlier film, of things unknowable to the viewer. What’s really important may be happening somewhere outside of the frame.

interview
By Conor Williams | October 30, 2020

I think there is a mystery that happens between an image and the spectator. The temple of cinema is an experience that you cannot exchange with another, or by watching films at home. The images can’t penetrate the spectator and be there for a long time.

feature
By Kelli Weston | October 30, 2020
American ID

The American Gothic, particularly as practiced by literary forebears Nathaniel Hawthorne and Washington Irving, who clearly shaped Eggers’s vision, tends to orbit around concepts of evil, madness, and the supernatural. But ultimately no monster ever compares to humans driven by fear.

feature
By Nick Pinkerton | October 22, 2020
At the Museum

The drive-in is inextricable from the history of censorship in big-budget American cinema, and is also inextricable from the history of the automobile in the U.S., which is in turn inextricable from the history of suburbanization, white flight, and other phenomenon.

feature
By Nick Pinkerton | October 20, 2020
At the Museum

The drive-in would become, in the postwar period, a national phenomenon, a symbol of untethered, ever-expanding, pedal-to-the-medal America, both a communal living room for Baby Boom parents and a prowling ground for a generation of teenagers.

review
By Devika Girish | October 19, 2020

The Calming consists of tableaux as elegant and precise as blocks of ice, fixing Lin in the solitude of hotel rooms, cars, trains, and parks, or in moments of hushed chitchat with a curator in Tokyo, a colleague in Beijing, a friend in Hong Kong.

review
By Lawrence Garcia | October 16, 2020

In adapting London’s novel, Marcello and his screenwriting partner Maurizio Braucci have transposed Eden’s story from turn-of-the-century Oakland to the coast of Naples, but they’ve also left the question of when intentionally unresolved, indeterminate.

review
By Nicholas Russell | October 15, 2020

Tragic Jungle is best approached with fairy-tale logic in mind. Olaizola hints at the possibly supernatural nature of the transformation of Agnes by vacillating between the perspectives of the chicleros and their leader.

feature

Contemporary political realities leaving our most vulnerable citizens in the dust inspires two writers recall the work of great filmmakers from Senegal and Japan.

review
By Beatrice Loayza | October 12, 2020

Funded by a Kickstarter campaign and shot sporadically over a period of two to three weeks on 16mm, Slow Machine has all the features of the rough-and-tumble New York indie, and it wears this vintage shabbiness as a badge of pride.