Reviews of the Bosch

New York, New York  is a two hour forty minute musical movie largely about a toxic relationship and I understand why it was Martin Scorsese’s first big flop. Some have blamed its poor reception on the kind of movie it was, of a style and tone Scorsese wasn’t known for, but I find that hard to believe. Even after only five films, he’d proven himself an extremely versatile director, and Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore  found an audience. Sure this jazz musical love letter to New York City was following up Taxi Driver and its’ far more cynical take on the city, but then it’s also ‘from the director of Taxi Driver ’ which itself was a big hit. Was it a matter of public appetite for musicals, or mere word of mouth and early critical reception that dissuaded viewers? Irrespective of that, I was stunned to discover this movie was the origin of the titular song, which I’d assumed was much older (it’s definitely got the sound of something that might have come out of the Jazz scene of the

       David Mitchell’s Cloud Atlas  is one of my favourite books. Everything about it, from its’ brilliant structure intertwined with overarching themes, to its grand scope spanning centuries, to just the characters and individual narratives themselves I’m utterly in awe of and compelled by (and just a tad jealous of). If you don’t know it, it’s a historical-sci-fi-dramatic-comedy-thriller novel composed as a Matryoshka Doll: with the first halfs of five individual stories succeeding each other, followed by a sixth in its entirety, and then the conclusive halfs of the previous five in reverse order. Each story is set in a different time period, told in a different style and literary genre, and from the point of view of a different character -yet they are linked by certain themes, narrative parallels, and a peculiar birthmark on five of the six protagonists suggesting a reincarnated soul through time. It’s a masterpiece of postmodern literature. However, unsurprisingly I was in

Early on in All Day and a Night , while Jahkor Lincoln (Ashton Sanders) is standing trial for double homicide his voiceover narration notes that when people ask why he did it they only want easy answers. The truth, it is suggested, is much more complicated. And yet it isn’t really. As the film expands on Jahkor’s life, illustrating his troubled upbringing and the culture of gangs and violence he grew up around, it really isn’t that difficult to answer. Yet Joe Robert Cole, a screenwriter of Black Panther  and The People v. O.J. Simpson , clearly wants to have a conversation about the subject of gang violence in impoverished black neighbourhoods in the U.S., and the repetition of patterns of criminality from one generation to the next. It’s a conversation that should be had, but this is a film that doesn’t do it justice. Beginning with Jahkor’s shocking murder of a young couple in front of their daughter and subsequent life sentence, the film explores his background to try and ac

In arts criticism, being negative is the easiest thing in the world. But negativity sells -which is why it’s also the most popular. Hence why on the internet, the largest platformed outlets and personalities who judge art tend to bask in negativity, often mocking a subject with an unearned level of scorn and with the flimsiest arsenal imaginable. I’m mostly familiar with this approach’s movie commentator adherents, but am aware that the trend is alive and well in the realm of books and music as well. The lattermost is where Beanie Feldstein’s Johanna Morrigan cultivates a niche for herself after failed attempts at sincerity in How to Build a Girl , Caitlin Moran’s adaptation of her own novel, directed by Coky Giedroyc -and for that it feels searingly relevant in spite of its well-worn themes and structure. The story is semi-autobiographical, inspired by the early years of Morans’ career, which began with a job at a music magazine when she was only sixteen. The ease with which he

As bad as it is, Scoob!  deserved a theatrical release. It’s the second major movie of the year to forego its’ cinematic run in a favour of a VOD release after Trolls World Tour  back in April and as much as its’ a calculated decision by Warner Bros. (neither of these movies were going to be major hits at the box office), it still sets an uncomfortable precedent for the future of the theatre industry. Also, while the quality of the storytelling and characters of this film is no better than any number of the Scooby-Doo  franchises’ direct-to-video efforts (much worse than most in fact), it is still cinematic in its energy and animation, which is rich and detailed in a way you can’t quite appreciate as much on the small screen. Weird as it is to say, I didn’t enjoy this film, but I would have rather been disappointed by it in the cinema. Scoob!  is the first attempt in any case to bring the Scooby-Doo  franchise to the big screen again since the live-action Scooby-Doo 2: Monsters

So I’ve been looking for things to do lately, as has everyone. Laid-back, easier projects mainly. And what could be easier than a top ten list, I think to myself foolishly. But hey, it could also be fun. Thinking back to my the best of the decade list for the 2010s had me considering the best movies from other decades, at least of the ones I’ve seen, which is admittedly a far smaller number than these most recent ten years. We’re talking less than a hundred for the 1930s (which I’m starting at because the 1920s was mostly covered by this list ). More than just about any other decade, the 1930s seems to have the highest amount of unsung gems; great movies that slipped under the radar during the pre-Code and early Code days, headlined by some of the most versatile movie stars of the era. Because of this in a way, no single decade compels me more than the 1930s, and its wide assortment of great films includes honourable mentions It Happened One Night  (1934 dir. Frank Capra), Snow