justin anastasio

justin anastasio


Favorite films

  • The Texas Chain Saw Massacre
  • Eraserhead
  • Braindead
  • The Wailing

Recent activity

  • Arachnophobia


  • Scooby-Doo! and the Legend of the Vampire


  • Quantum of Solace


  • Spiral: From the Book of Saw


Recent reviews

  • Last Year at Marienbad

    Last Year at Marienbad


    in “Against Interpretation”, Susan Sontag posits that contemporary interpretation — specifically of content over form — only serves to degrade the visceral experience of art, aptly referencing this film in particular as one that combats this inclination. it’s a film that seemingly flees from interpretation, tossing breadcrumbs over its shoulder at the viewer with abandon, ultimately crystallizing in pure cinematic form. the film looms over the viewer like the palatial hotel therein, sidestepping conventional categorization, rejecting concise explanation of potential themes or symbols, demanding to exist as no more or less than exactly what it is.

  • The Holy Mountain

    The Holy Mountain


    4th annual Holy Mountain Day! and on the Sabbath too! praise be to the death of money and the meaninglessness of meaninglessness 🙏 💩 ⚱️

    (I urge everyone to create silly pseudo-religious holidays around their favorite films, and to consider celebrating Holy Mountain Day (8/8) in your own household next year)

Popular reviews

  • Burning



    quiet devastation at the hands of a metaphor. a mystery drifts in on a warm breeze from Africa, rustling the leaves as sunset slowly burns the day to ashen black. Miles Davis dances with North Korean propaganda in the cool twilight.

    poetic, existentialist ambiguity gives way to bracing tension with the gradual subtlety of light creeping into the morning. Mowg’s score bestows a soft menace on everything. a beguiling swell of cloistered emotional heft, and what a rousing coda! my heart aches for the greenhouse: hopeful, promising, ephemeral, lost in a puff of smoke.

  • Swiss Army Man

    Swiss Army Man


    “A24 could put out a necrophilia-tinged island romance where a farting Harry Potter corpse with super powers plays second fiddle to a mentally unraveling Paul Dano, color it as a requiem for missed opportunities and an ode to queer thought, and you know I’d still slurp that shit right up I tell you what.”
    — somebody, at some point, probably

    it works. you won’t believe it till you see it, but it works. a strange, risky, surprisingly touching debut. the Daniels have my attention now.

    “if you don’t know Jurassic Park,
    you don’t know shit.”