You glance up at a third-floor window over a drug store where shadows play against a drawn blind. Looks like some guy stabbing a woman. But what can you know?…
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Happy birthday to the great, and still active and vital, Mr. Coleman, seen above with his son Denardo in Shirley Clarke's wonderful (and criminally ill-available) 1985 Ornette: Made In America.
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...and what I might post, if I did...RT@pajiba: People who complain that real film criticism is dead just don't read enough Nick Schager or @ranylt or @ericsnider or @KarinaLongworth #pleasegougemyeyesoutwitharedhotpokerHmm,…
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For some reason I haven't gotten any of the e-mails that I'm told are circulating around the "community," asking film critics to stand in solidarity with Armond White. I can't…
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A peculiarly transportive cinematic experience that was "pure torture" for at least one member of its ostensible target audience: ladies and gentlemen, Sally Potter's The Gold Diggers, her knottily beautiful…
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Holy crap, Variety canned Todd McCarthy. Boy, I'm glad I didn't spring for a subscription after they put up the pay wall. Not that McCarthy was the only reason to…
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