I’ve often joked that nobody loves Ang Lee’s wuxia masterpiece quite as much as I do. But getting to see it again, on no less than a gorgeously worn and scratchy 35mm print, makes me thing I need to start taking my own joke more seriously. A 5-Star rating just doesn’t cut it; if Letterboxd allowed it, I’d steal stars from other movies just so I could give them to this one. It is, and is likely to remain, the…
This movie wrecked me.
It wrecked me because almost no other movie has ever made me feel this connected to my community, to my history, to the notion I am part of a whole.
It wrecked me because it reminded me how far removed I am from a generation that fought for life, when the hardest I've had to fight is to say "I do."
It wrecked me because its emotions hit hard, but never cheap. Because it understands the…
What I love so much about memoir is that the best of them pave narrative avenues for our intimate, profound experiences that might read otherwise to an audience as banal or commonplace.
Steven Spielberg has little in his early biography to characterize as truly novel, beyond that its trajectory results in the career of arguably the most significant pop artist of our lifetime. But it speaks volumes to his impeccable sense of craft that he can turn his camera around,…
I'm just... tired. So very tired.
I'm tired of the notion that Marvel Studios has somehow planted its flag upon the summit of mainstream popcorn entertainment, when the only summit it's touched is that of the interminably tasteful time-killer.
I'm tired the emptiness I feel each time I finish one of these things, of exiting the theater each time feeling like the only thought I was ever meant to fancy was how much I'd better be looking forward to the…