Over the weekend, David Ayer, director of the upcoming Suicide Squad film, debuted the first image of Jared Leto as the Joker. The look garnered a great deal of response – both passionate hatred and accepting optimism. But the vocal and emotional reaction is unsurprising. The Joker has been around for 75 years, and he means a lot of things to a lot of people. With this new Joker in our midst, it has inspired me to reminisce about some of my favorite looks of the Clown Prince of Crime.
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Furious 7 opened over the weekend with the largest box office debut in the 14-year-old series. The upward trajectory of the franchise has been astonishing especially when it seemed all but exhausted after The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift in 2006. The appeal of this big, loud, and silly series is undeniable. Wesley Morris, film critic for the Boston Globe, summed it up perfectly when he called the franchise “the most progressive force in Hollywood.” Short of a LGBTQ character or two, the series reflects today’s world better than most.
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One of the highlights of last year’s Fantastic Fest was Jodorowsky’s Dune, a documentary about a film that never got made. It’s fitting that a stand out from this year’s festival is a documentary on a studio that perhaps made too many movies. The studio was Cannon, and the crowd-pleasing documentary is Electric Boogaloo: The Wild, Untold Story of Cannon Films.
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Danny Peary’s Cult Movies series has been loved for decades. Before the dawn of the internet, his books were many film lover’s gateway into the odd corners of cinema. Recently I was given the opportunity to edit a series of ebooks culling the material from these books, repackaging them in genre-specific collections, starting with Cult Horror Movies. The strength of his writing left little room for revision, though the new releases afforded Peary the opportunity for minor updates and tweaks (think of it as an Author’s Cut), as well as adding HUGE checklists for additional cult movies in each genre. These lists bring so much joy to my geek heart.
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Ah, it’s that magical time of year when all the scary things in the dark can finally show their face. A celebrated season of spooky fun and gruesome delights, where kids can dress up like monsters and their parents have full permission to scare the shit out of them.
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What to say about The Tribe? Let’s start with this: it’s a very difficult film to watch in every respect. It’s a Ukrainian film entirely cast with deaf-mutes, most of them non-actors. There is no speaking in the film and no soundtrack, only ambient noise, and no subtitles, only sign language. It’s also terribly grim and brutal, and it’s unlike any movie you will ever see.
First time Ukrainian feature writer-director Myroslav Slaboshpytskiy’s film seems daunting from description, a 2-hour and ten minute movie featuring only deaf-mutes with no names. However, the movie is transfixing from the opening scene, and somehow through actions and reactions, you know what is unfolding before you. After a few moments you’re so engrossed you don’t even miss what’s not there.
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Micro budget films often have a great charm. They’re under lit, gritty and really ambitious at times. They’re made for and with love, and it often shows. But then there are those in this genre that are overly ambitious to a fault, and the whole package ends up suffering a great deal. You can’t make a great film without a great script, I don’t care how much money you have, or don’t have.
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Where to begin with Horns? The new movie has quite the pedigree: It’s directed by Alexandre Aja (of The Hills Have Eyes remake fame), based on a novel by Joe Hill (the famed author and son of horror titan Stephen King), and stars Daniel Radcliffe (the Harry Potter dude) in a performance removed from his acting legacy.
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There are few things as satisfying as a fresh and exciting new horror film. It’s rare these days to find one with a story that stands on its own, one that honors its influences without falling back on post-modern meta genre commentary, and one that genuinely gives you the creeps. With David Robert Mitchell‘s new indie horror flick, It Follows, we find such a rarity, with well-placed, jump-from-your-seat scares and bona fide unsettling chills that sink in and stay with you long after the credits have ended.
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Welcome back, Kevin Smith.
We just finished the Tusk screening at this year’s Fantastic Fest, and I’m filled with the warmth I can only liken to a lapsed Catholic being moved by mass. Once a die hard Kevin Smith fan (and, as such, a Kevin Smith apologist), I enthusiastically wore Jay and Silent Bob t-shirts every day, tracked down every international Chasing Amy movie poster I could find, attended every Vulgarthon film festival, and many, many other nerdy endeavors. Over the past decade that enthusiasm waned as Smith’s output declined in quality. When I heard he was retiring from filmmaking, my reaction was little more than a shrug.
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