Shout out to all my fellow finatics!
Shark season is officially open for business.
We were so back for a second there too before hitting choppy waters on a rough home stretch.
Not quite the catch that was promised but I had my fun and that's all that matters.
A tasty bite to snack on before some bigger splashes later this summer if the tides are with us.
Happy hunting, chums.
Unfortunately insufferable.
Points for presentation of course but little else to ire here, as Wes painfully overplays the signature quirks which compliment his best work, while neglecting the heart and soul that makes those classics shine.
This cold and empty shadow is Anderson on autopilot, following all of his worst instincts in a sort of bizarre self-kareoke that ultimately amounts to the most precocious, pretentious and downright intolerable project of his career.
Holy fucking shit.
A film I can still feel in the pit of my stomach.
I'm currently processing what I've just seen, but I can say without a shadow of a doubt that was something I've never experienced before in a cinema screen and I almost hope I never will again.
Coralie Fargeat has birthed an excruciatingly visceral and spectacularly grotesque monster.
The Substance is a demented and depraved work of mad genius that resurrects then recontextualizes body horror in…
