The scariest stories are, to me, about 1950s housewives. They don’t have to be intentionally scary; they don’t even have to be about the housewife.
Netflix is saving us again from our isolated, dreary existences with a peppy romantic comedy. You know the kind they churn out: teens, love triangles,
There’s a double-edged sword to the streamers that make them questionable distributors. On the plus side, they give a lot of new filmmakers a chance,
As a culture, we don’t really respect teenage girls. We don’t respect their interests, we don’t respect their bodies, we don’t respect their inner lives.
Recurring throughout Portrait of a Lady on Fire is the image of Héloïse (Adèle Haenel) in a wedding dress, a mirage that haunts her lover
Jane Austen’s work and I have a steady relationship, one where I get drug to one adaptation or another to find out that, yep, they’re