Far left: once puked out the door of Steven Kramer's parents' station wagonWhat do The Waitresses, the delightful '80s band whose bizarre history would have made a dynamite episode of…
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Sorry for the light posting—I've got to watch fifteen films for the New York Asian Film Festival. And one of them is four hours long! Judging isn't until July 5,…
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For the past couple of weeks I've been contributing a new column, a sort of that-was-the-week-that-was (in miniature) in film and blogging, in the interest of fostering discourse. Not, I…
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Walk seven hours in their shoes: Tarr's SatantangoWherein I admit that I both cheated and dropped the ball. As some of you may recall, the provisions of my plan as…
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The chronicle concerning how I have been most sorely used (I won't link) continues over at The Auteurs'. It's still funny. I hope.
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I profile my Girlfriend Experience, erm, co-star, Sasha Grey over at The Daily Beast, here. As almost every writer I've ever met likes to say, the headline's not mine. Also,…
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