As a publication, National Lampoon has generated some of the best comedy writers of the latter half of the 20th century. Spinning out of the Harvard Lampoon , it continued the momentum built by its predecessor by launching the careers of all who touched it. The Vacation film series, in particular, has some of the most lasting legacy today. Forever a part of Freeform/ABC Family’s “25 Days of Christmas,” National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation is absorbed as part of the month long deluge of Christmas content even by people who had no idea what it was. A large part of Christmas culture is formed by these films. Christmas as a holiday is steeped in tradition and nostalgia, and the use of this movie as part of that feeling is instrumental. The kind of family portrayed in Christmas Vacation is one that has permeated white American culture for decades. John Hughes penned the first Vacation movie and based it off of his trip to Disney with his family. While Hughes did not attend Harvard, it cannot be understated how much Harvard and the Ivy League have influenced modern American comedy. Plenty of affluent (usually white) male creators worked for the Lampoon and using their connections, moved on to shape the comedy landscape of the 1970’s and 80’s in such places as Saturday Night Live and The Simpsons . As such, the cyclical nostalgic nature of Christmas keeps regurgitating the classics of a different time. That is not to say that Christmas Vacation isn’t without quality. The performances turned in by everyone involved - from Chevy Chase to Beverly D’Angelo to the late, great, Doris Roberts - prove that everyone was willing to give it their all to make something special. Part of the appeal of the franchise is the Simpsons -esque stasis that the family maintains. The kids are always portrayed by different actors, permanently teens and young adults. The family uses the generic nuclear family template on purpose. They propose to upend these stereotypes, as was the spirit of the times. The Simpsons was also written by a great many Harvard alumni and shows a middle class (quite literally) nuclear family. Post-Vietnam War America struggled with reconciling its identity. The generation of upcoming comedians and writers were from a more traditional time period, and they hoped to rebel by turning old stereotypes on their head. However, their point of references were very narrow. These creators, from mostly small homogenous towns, had universal experiences. What seemed like a new and fresh take to them, now seems to only reinforce the perceived monoculture that their upbringings taught them. Clark Griswold as a leading character is an exercise in male fragility and privilege, endemic to the times. He is expecting a Christmas bonus, and even goes ahead and spends the money without even confirming whether or not he is going to get one. His expectation is portrayed to be clearly shortsighted, and we’re not necessarily supposed to believe that he’s without fault. However, we are made to think that his employers are cheap misers who are stepping on the underdog. This frustration is the genesis for a lot of the movie’s comedy, as Clark becomes more and more unhinged with each increasing slight. He feels entitled to his bonus and to making Christmas special for his family. He feels owed something that was never truly promised to him. This narrow view of the workplace is an indication of the perspective of the creators involved. Most of them had dads who worked at some indiscriminate office and brought home Christmas bonuses. They lived in the kinds of homes that the Griswold's lived in, and they would completely empathize with where Clark is coming from. They would see him as wronged, and they would get why he reacts so violently. It is, after all, Christmas. What kind of job wouldn’t cut their employee some slack? That is, as long as their employee isn’t in the service industry or the medical industry or any other number of jobs in which, Christmas is just another day. For a lot of people, they get cut no breaks due to the fact that it is Christmas. Christmas Vacation turns 40 this year, and while its age shows, its place in the culture is still relevant after all this time. The perspective it represents is very indicative of those who created it. It brings a lot of nostalgia and joy to the people who grew up with it, and can share it with those who didn’t. While all of that is okay, it’s good to keep in mind that new and diverse voices are creating new stories every day. Marco Rummo Marco is a comedian, writer, and under employed New Yorker trying to make it in this damn world. He enjoys fruitlessly pursuing love on dating apps and keeping track of all of the movies he’s seen on Letterboxd. #Newsletter #Articles #ChristmasVacation #ChevyChase #Comedy #MarcoRummo

Avengers: Endgame Ok, yea. I’m a nerd for throwing this in here. I went back and forth about putting it on the list, but seeing this movie on the Thursday night release in IMAX with some of my closest friends was one of my best memories of the year, movie-going or otherwise. I don’t think I’ve ever been in a theater so hyped. Everyone sat at the edge of their seat, cried adult tears, and screamed at the top of their lungs. Regardless of my nerd bias, there has never been a movie made of this magnitude before. Plenty of superhero action movies exist, but no other culminates dozens of sequels and story lines, as well as seamlessly integrating almost a hundred established characters. Nor are they the top grossing movie of all time… Also it’s worth mentioning that this is an action movie that kept us at the edge of our seats while the main villain for the first hour of the film was no “Black Knight,” but rather the acceptance of a tragedy. The writers did use some complicated Sci-Fi to move this story forward but they didn’t stumble for a moment. This was the perfect culmination of Marvel’s Phase One and the best any audience could expect from an epic fantasy amalgam a decade in the making. The Irishman At this point, watching Martin Scorsese make a movie about the mafia is like watching BB King play blues guitar, hearing David Attenborough narrate, or seeing LeBron dunk on somebody’s head. It's as close as we’ll experience to human perfection. I know some viewers who were disappointed with this movie, and a lot I know did it all in one sitting. If you’re trying this movie for the first time be aware that it's over three hours long. I did it in two separate sittings and I absolutely loved it. But it's a looking glass into what was thought to be a long dead mystery. One that endeavors to show the entire story as truthfully as could be in a crime drama. I think it’s one of Pacino’s best performances which is saying a hell of a lot. It’s also Pacino and Scorsese’s first ever collaboration. Certainly worth an extensive run time. Uncut Gems This is a tough one. A complicated and frustrating quest for fulfillment with as many facets as Ratner’s prized opal. I’m not sure I would actually recommend this movie to anyone because it’s guaranteed to induce unresolvable anxiety. It’s also undoubtedly one of the best movies I’ve ever seen, as well as one of the most unique. The soundtrack is unreal, the intensity is unreal, and Adam Sandler is UNREAL! It’s kind of fascinating even in theory because I’ve never seen a period piece so exact and so close to current times. 2012 is captured perfectly, which feels like an odd thing to say just 8 years later in the present. I’m completely biased with this, but I love seeing a movie center around a Jewish main character. It's extremely rare. Especially one whose story revolves around their Jewishness. A Pesach Seder during the movie? Love to see it. Regardless of context. Only these brothers would make this film though. Their own voices shine through their influences. The Coen Brothers would never make this film for better or worse. This story is going to irritate you and it's designed to make it perfect and terrible in my mind. I’ve never seen a movie like it and despite it’s difficulty, I’d absolutely sign up to be tested by a film like this in the future. The Safdie Brothers are really onto something. Their last movie, Good Time , was another phenomenal anxiety-ridden crime adventure with another phenomenal lead performance a la Robert Pattinson. I can completely understand why anyone would dislike this movie, but I have a strong feeling these guys will be unavoidable in the future of movie watching. Parasite It’s Always Sunny in Seoul. An all around great film. Truly flawless. Absurd, surreal, hilarious. How far would you go to give your family the life you think they deserve? Layer upon layer of artifice makes for a whirlwind of a story that manages to remain genuinely funny throughout. Watching one of the characters needlessly feed himself a banana whole while the rest of the major characters argue through one of the most complicated conversations in the movie sealed this as one of my favorite films of all time, not just 2019. The Last Black Man In San Francisco Ah... Wow. Surreal yet completely real. Bleak and beautiful. Poetic and musical. Drenched in symbolism yet based on the truth of actor Jimmie Fails’ own life. Is it a coincidence my favorite movie of the year also featured my favorite score? As far as I know, this was Emile Mosseri’s first movie scoring gig and he killed it beyond belief. I hope to hear so much more from him. Parasite was incredible but this was my favorite film of the year EASILY. No contest. This movie tackles so much with an outrageous degree of style: racism, gentrification, community, violence, ignorance, brotherhood, family, trust, truth, honesty, identity. I went from tearing up at the beauty of a perfect shot, to hysterically laughing at the absurd dialogue at the drop of a hat. Did I mention this movie is beautiful? See it as soon as you can. Talk to me about the ending! Or the whole thing! Pierce Allen Pierce Allen is a local musician and movie enthusiast living in Beacon, NY. His favorite ice cream flavor is chocolate and vanilla mixed together. #Newsletter #PierceAllen #2019 #Bestof2019 #Top5 #Articles

Since its inception in 2011, Black Mirror has had long standing appeal in its bleak lens of the human condition through the pitfalls of technology. The BBC series was a portrayal of paranoia, anxiety and greed, hyperbolized by an extrapolation of social media and technological advancements. Topics have ranged from twisted plays on the capabilities of VR, to near Nostradamus-like predictions of social media’s weaponization of public opinion. Technology has advanced significantly in the short eight years since the show’s start, and it has in many ways illuminated darker shades of humanity than Charlie Booker could have ever imagined. From the rise of white nationalism via social media, to the gamification of amazon warehouses to placate labor, or the rise of pedophiles using youtube’s algorithm to find home videos of children, society’s current relationship with technology feels toxic in many ways. The current socio political landscape seems rife with opportunity for Black Mirror’s biting social commentary. However, Black Mirror’s fifth season, which premiered on Netflix in early June, is disappointingly toothless. Rather than pushing the boundaries of our dark relationship with tech, Season 5 seems content to fall back on relatively familiar ground. The production value remains consistently high, and there are some novel concepts explored here and there, but the majority of this short season is disappointingly stale. Season 5 consists of three episodes of varying quality. By far the weakest of the bunch is “Rachel, Jack, and Ashley Too,” featured most prominently in the season’s marketing likely due to its casting of Miley Cyrus. “Ashley Too” is high in the running for Black Mirror’s worst episode to date, falling back on the well trod territory of “what if your brain was in the computer?” that recent seasons of the show seem completely infatuated with. Cyrus stars as Ashley O, an established pop star who’s career shares many similarities with her own real life story. Ashley’s career is surging, but her creativity is stifled by her greedy Aunt and Manager Catherine, (Susan Pourfar). Ashley’s very freedom eventually becomes jeopardized by her Aunt’s ambition, and her only hope for salvation comes from Rachel, one of her teenage fans (Angourie Rice). The episode has the potential to tell a tale of the music industry dehumanizing and draining a young creative in the pursuit of profit, (with a literal example of a person becoming a product) but instead, it almost completely squanders the opportunity in favor of a mostly cringey teen adventure. The episode seems more akin to a Disney channel original movie than a Black Mirror episode. Cyrus, for what little she’s given, does a serviceable job of portraying a pop star subjugated by her management. However, the episode focuses the majority of its runtime on Rachel, a lonely teen who finds comfort and companionship in an AI version of Ashley Too. Rachel serves as a surrogate for Ashley O’s target audience, and is a potential lens for the realization of the heavy tolls our idols often pay in order to make it big in the music industry. However, this realization is never fully achieved, with Rachel neither growing nor learning very much over the course of the episode. Much of the runtime consists of aimless sideplots that add little to the overall story. The episode culminates in what may be the worst ending of a Black Mirror episode, including a painfully cringey cover and an embarrassing placement of an anarchy sticker. The season’s second episode, “Smithereens,” fairs far better than “Ashley Too,” but still falls short of Black Mirror’s prior heights. Andrew Scott of Sherlock and Fleabag (which I highly, HIGHLY recommend) leads as Chris Gillheney, a rideshare driver clearly at his wit’s end. Chris takes an employee of a high profile tech company hostage in order to settle a vendetta with its CEO, leading to an episode long standoff with UK police. While this episode is inarguably well shot, well acted, and well produced by all accounts, it still feels a bit thin by Black Mirror’s standards. “Smithereens,” portrays a near omnipotent social media company, who’s all seeing eye is able to profile Chris’s emotional and social state, far faster than the combined efforts of the British police and the FBI. The limitless access this company has to Chris’s private information, and the tactical ruthlessness it wields in order to leverage this data against him, is right in line with Black Mirror’s brand of social satire. The episode’s ultimate twist and revelation for Chris’s motivation to take a hostage, falls back on relatively obvious and mild territory. At the risk of continuing to make reductive comparisons, the episode is more akin to a very expensive episode of Criminal Minds than the best of Black Mirror . It’s entertaining enough, and is carried largely by the charming yet disturbed performance of Scott. It also features a great cameo by Topher Grace, doing his best approximation of Jack Dorsey by way of Jared Leto. This makes the episode worth a watch, but far short of groundbreaking. By far the season’s strongest offering is “Striking Vipers,” an episode that expands on the VR tech introduced in season 3’s “Playtest.” Anthony Mackie plays Danny, a married father who reconnects with an old friend, Karl, at his 40th birthday party. Karl (Yahya Abdul-Mateen II) gifts Danny a copy of the newest iteration of a fighting game that the two played back in the day, as well as an accompanying VR headset. Danny and Karl, who have grown apart as they’ve gotten older, play the game online together as a way to reconnect in new and surprising ways. What follows is a Black Mirror style exploration of identity, sexuality, and commitment. This episode introduces by far the freshest ideas found in Season 5. The VR tech, which allows for “the full range of human sensation,” explores sexual fluidity that blurs the lines of heteronormativity and homosexuality. “Striking Vipers” is by no means the most insightful or boundary pushing examination of masculinity and sexuality, but it explores ideas that are mostly foreign to mainstream media. By extrapolating the possibilities of virtual reality and its ability to exceed physical limitations, “Striking Vipers” poses questions of how we regard ourselves when the constraints of gender and orientation loosen. It also explores ideas of commitment, and how mental cheating within the digital space can be just as damaging to a relationship as a physical affair. The strength of this episode rests largely on the strong chemistry between Danny, Karl, and Danny’s wife, Theo (Nikki Beharie). There is dynamic tension between the three old friends as their relationships collide and interrupt each other. Beharie especially shines in a scene where she confronts her husband about his recently distant behavior. This episode is on its surface, a rather absurd concept that is treated with a respectful amount of humor. The absurdity works, however, by the dramatic weight that the three actors lend to it. The characters acknowledge the inherent strangeness of the situation, while struggling with the dramatic ramifications of it. “Striking Vipers” may not reach the same heights of episodes such as “San Junipero,” but it presents a unique story that is well written and strongly acted. To its credit, “Striking Vipers” also features a completely passable render of a Street Fighter 5 clone, which breaks the mold of typically embarrassing onscreen representations of video games in television. It also shows a little of 2018’s “Tetris Effect,” which doesn’t really add anything to the episode, but is cool nonetheless. Overall, Season 5 of Black Mirror is a relatively disappointing entry in the series. It’s not completely without merit, as “Striking Vipers” is certainly a memorable episode and “Smithereens” is entertaining enough, if not somewhat shallow. “Rachel, Jack, and Ashley Too” is pretty unforgivable in my opinion, but your own Mileyage may vary. The dark lens with which Black Mirror has previously portrayed the bleakest parts of culture, once so sharp and witty, may have become clouded. With the current social and political landscape as twisted as it is, this is especially disappointing. Perhaps when real life consistently outpaces parody, satire can no longer keep up. Jack Kolodziejski Co-Head of Podcasting Jack makes drugs for a living, but not necessarily the fun kind. He enjoys international travel and discussing music, movies, and games in excruciating detail. #Newsletter #Review #July2019 #JackKolodziejski #BlackMirror #Netflix #Technology #Season

By 1969, John Wayne had already been in well over a hundred movies. He was past the highest point of his career, but he had become one of the biggest stars of his day, and possibly of all time. Wayne was willingly typecast for decades into essentially playing himself in a different era: a conservative man tough on criminals and most others during the height of Hollywood’s love affair with the old west. After being in pictures for over 40 years, he discovered the screenplay adaptation for True Grit and the role of Rooster Cogburn. That role would win him his only Oscar, and showed that even in a classic western movie, he could do something unexpected. Christopher Portis’ 1968 novel, True Grit , was adapted by Marguerite Roberts, and Wayne immediately began lobbying for the part of Rooster even saying that her script was “the best [he] had ever read.” He knew at this point in his life and career, this would be the best opportunity he would have to do such a great character and story justice. Most movies starring Wayne follow him and his character’s perspective throughout the story. What initially sets the character of Rooster Cogburn apart from most of his other performances is that the story is told through the eyes of someone else. The voice of young women is so rarely heard in western tales, especially those of the day. This story is made that much more intriguing by the main character we do follow. A young woman of only fourteen named Mattie Ross, played by Kim Darby, guides us through the tale, and her and Wayne are supported by Glen Campbell as the Texas Ranger LeBoeuf who was a Grammy winning country singer of the day and former member of the famous Los Angeles studio recording group “The Wrecking Crew.” A choice for the role that always surprised me due to his fame as a musician until I learned that Elvis Presley was originally considered for the same role until he asked for top billing over everyone else in the cast. The three of them together are able to explore dynamics usually unseen in westerns of the time such as ageless friendship, major character conflict over individual definitions of justice, the potential for any person to be tough regardless of gender or background, and the use of monetary and personal debt to navigate the chaos of a lawless land. After Glen Campbell finishes singing the Oscar nominated theme music, we’re brought into an opening scene at a wealthy westerner’s ranch. This wealthy man is Mattie’s father, Frank Ross, and this is her home in Yell County, Arkansas. We see Frank preparing to leave the ranch to make a deal in Fort Smith but before he leaves he stops inside the house to say goodbye to his daughter. The audience can see in only a few minutes that their relationship is not only one of familial adoration but of mutual respect. He calls her his “little bookkeeper” but asks her how much she’ll allow him to take to buy horses. She’s shown immediately to be a shrewd businesswoman, but we’ve yet to see even half of her tenacity and determination. Although Mattie’s skeptical of the deal, Frank is convinced she’ll come around to his plan. He clearly trusts and appreciates her advice. It would seem that though she is young, Mattie has helped him avoid bad moves in the past. He saddles up, and rides off with a man boarding on their ranch. As they ride away, Mattie remarks on the man, “Tom Cheyne, now there’s trash for you.” She doesn’t trust him and detests a perceived lack of appreciation for her father’s generosity despite him riding to Fort Smith with Frank. Mattie would prefer he stayed behind and watched their property, being that it's “his job” after her father gave him a “house” to live in. We see her almost comically severe business sense yet again when her mother points out that the “house” is only an old tool shed with a large hole in the south wall and Mattie’s response is “it's got a good a roof.” Mattie’s calculation of debt and attention to give and take, is her primary tool in making sense of this wild west. Her mistrust of Cheyne is proven to be well founded and hardly severe, once we see what happens at Fort Smith. Her father attempts to stop Cheyne from getting drunkenly violent during a card game and he ends up catching the heat himself. Cheyne angrily shoots him instead of the men he believes are cheating him, and he takes the leftover money from the deal, as well as Frank’s two lucky gold pieces. He flees into the night and the story truly begins. We cut directly to Mattie’s arrival in Fort Smith. She travels there to secure the last deal Frank made, as well as confirm his identity to the undertaker. Another stop is made upon arriving, however. The majority of the townspeople, men, women, and children, are all gathered at the town center to watch three men be hanged (a bit of a dark scene to see children playing happily on a swing with the backdrop of an imminent execution). It was certainly rare for western stories of the day to show any of the barbarism of the era, but this was one of people’s few forms of entertainment at the time. The ranch hand accompanying Mattie clearly is distracted and she can tell he wants to go. We also learn later that the boarding house where Mattie is staying is overbooked solely because of the event. Mattie decides to go as well and does not let her eyes be shielded to the execution. When the feet of the hanged men go still, Mattie is clearly shocked but more so intrigued. “That’s not a faint hearted judge,” she says assuredly as she walks away. “Cheyne would get his due before such a judge.” It seems this moment solidifies Mattie’s yearning for violent retribution. Her intensity goes well beyond meticulous bookkeeping. Upon identifying her father’s corpse, both the undertaker and the ranch hand are surprised by Mattie’s cold reaction. “Put the lid on it,” she says quietly, with little feeling. She says nothing else with not so much as a goodbye. It is not until later, when she’s alone with her father’s effects, specifically his watch, that she lets her emotions come to the surface. This feels like a genuine reaction when compared to many of the family losses that characters experience in Westerns. She doesn’t fall to her knees and scream to the heavens upon seeing her father lifeless body. She cries quietly, alone, pressing his watch to her face, knowing that the material things left to her are all she will ever know of him again. The material will never match the intangible and it makes her reaction seem true. It also gives us a new example of Mattie’s strength and desire to show little weakness. Young people thrust into a position of responsibility have their guard up at all times. Especially a young woman like Mattie in this male dominated environment. She gives almost no opportunity for anyone to take advantage of her, and is constantly using her sharp mind to set up defenses against the possibility of such attempts. Once Mattie has seen her father, she immediately goes to the Sheriff to see what’s being done. The Sheriff reveals that Tom Cheyne has fled into Indian Territory and is out of his jurisdiction. Only a US Marshall would have the authority to track him there. Mattie asks who the best Marshalls are and is given three choices. Two of the men are described as competent and one of those two is described as the “straightest” for bringing his men in alive. Mattie is not interested in these men. She is most intrigued by the man described as the meanest, Rooster Cogburn. “A pitiless man, double tough. Fear don’t enter into his thinking.” She begins asking just about everyone she meets in town about him. Even after she’s met him she’s still curious. Most say he’s a delinquent drunk and a killer, but they all concede that he has “true grit.” This only furthers her fixation and certainty that he’s the man for the job. Mattie wants to see Cheyne dead and Rooster Cogburn seems to be the one to deliver. We meet Cogburn when he takes the stand in a criminal trial to defend his use of lethal force. Upon first meeting this character, we can tell he is hardly debilitated by his missing eye, but it causes him to jerk about wildly and tick strangely. He’s aging and he has a difficult time expressing himself. It's also clear that he's been hindered by years of hard drinking. It's fascinating to see John Wayne play a character who is unsure of himself. Nervous even. A violent man thrust into an uncomfortable, bureaucratic situation. The cross examination reveals he’s killed twenty three men in four years and the unspoken suggestion is that he enjoys it. That he never hopes to bring in any man alive. This does everything but dissuade Mattie. She chases after him when he leaves the courthouse and continues chasing even after he tries to walk away. Mattie notices Rooster struggling to roll a cigarette and without asking takes it from him. She quickly works at it and plops a perfect roll between his lips. He is dumbfounded by this and it hilariously sets the tone of their relationship for the rest of the story. Though he tries to ignore her, Mattie has the plan laid out already. “You can get a fugitive warrant for Tom Cheyne and the government will give you two dollars for bringing him in, plus ten cents a mile for each of you, and on top of that I’ll give you a fifty dollar reward.” This stops Rooster in his tracks. “Well you’ve looked into this right smart,” he exclaims. Eventually Mattie admits she thinks “nothing will be done about Cheyne unless I do it myself.” This is the truth and she’s already taking the matter into her own hands. Even in the old west, bureaucracy and cost prevent anyone from willingly doing anything about the crime. She will have to make things happen on her own. Mattie joins Rooster for dinner that night to “make medicine” and talk over the deal. On noting her persistence and determination he begins to affectionately call her “Baby Sister.” They sit together and Mattie watches as Rooster eats like an animal and drinks like a fish. He is a product of the old west and she is the future, though they seem directly connected. He drunkenly shoots a rat eating from the cornmeal stores of the Chinese grocery he’s living in stating “you can’t serve a rat papers. You gotta kill him or let him be.” Rooster doesn’t see much good in bringing “rats” in alive. Mattie isn’t very put off with this and is more indignant with the cat for not doing its job, again applying the order of give and take to the violence and insanity of human behavior in this environment. Upon returning to the boarding house, a man staying there named LeBoeuf reveals his purpose in Fort Smith to Mattie. He had tried conversing with her casually before, but this time he directly engages her about Tom Cheyne. Cheyne is actually a man named Theron Chelmsford who shot a politician in Texas. LeBoeuf is a Sergeant with the Texas Rangers and has been hunting this man for almost four months. This creates some issues for Mattie’s plans. She cares little for a Texas politician or LeBoeuf’s plans for advancement. She not only wants to see Cheyne hang here in Fort Smith for killing her father, but have him know that that is why he is being punished. LeBoeuf attempts to make her see his side by appealing to her desire to avenge her father. He explains that he’s working for the politician’s family who would also want to see him hanged and that Cheyne will certainly be punished wherever he ends up. Even after Mattie explains she’s hired Rooster Cogburn and doesn’t want his help, LeBoeuf makes a fair point. “He knows the land and I know Cheyne. It’s at least a two man job to take him alive.” Though this is true, he then ruins his chances of convincing Mattie by being something of a fool. He admits he mostly wants to bring Cheyne back to Texas because there’s a “well-placed” young lady there who will “look favorably” on him if he can complete this task. Then adding, that he initially wanted to “steal a kiss” from Mattie but would now like to belt her for her perceived insolence. She leaves the conversation furious, letting LeBoeuf know that he will not be part of their hunt for Cheyne. Before Mattie and Rooster can depart on their mission, however, she must secure his payment. This scene proves crucial in solidifying Mattie’s character and is our first time seeing her own “true grit.” Her father had come to Fort Smith to buy ponies for breeding but the salesmen sold them only geldings, neutered horses. After much condescending and arguing from the salesman, Mattie refuses to concede, of course. She threatens him with action from her Lawyer Daggett and backs him into a corner of giving her no less than the three-hundred dollars she asks for. LeBoeuf will later claim of Mattie and her Lawyer that “she draws him like a gun.” Debt is the discipline she has studied, her weapon of choice, and her tool to define boundaries to the harsh situation she’s been thrust into. She only dives in deeper the harsher it gets, however. Before she leaves, she asks the disgruntled salesman if he knows of a Rooster Cogburn. His response is quite interesting. “Most people around here have heard of Rooster Cogburn and some have lived to regret it. I would not be surprised to learn that he’s a relative of yours.” Though he’s known as a murderous drunk, Mattie and he seem to share a recognizable trait. It is not until she brings Rooster the money that Mattie reveals her plan to come along for the manhunt. “I’m not paying for talk.” She needs to be sure her investment is sound and the debt is paid, but riding sixty miles into Indian territory will be dangerous even for Rooster, despite who he is and what he’s capable of. He cannot imagine what it will be like for Mattie. She, of course, does not concede and it is only LeBoeuf who can convince Rooster to leave her behind. He entices Rooster with the large payout promised by the Texas state government for bringing Cheyne back to them. They decide they will leave Mattie behind and hunt him together despite a bit of mutual distaste for each other. When they attempt to ditch Mattie at a river crossing, they watch as she doubles back and rides her horse through the water with pure determination. “By God! She reminds me of me,” Rooster exclaims with a glow in his eye. Her “grit” is now shown to extend well beyond a business mind or monetary ruthlessness. Rooster knows she can make it with them. In this moment he truly begins to see her as a baby sister. LeBoeuf tries to get his wish of punishing her for her insolence as she chases their party of two down. He jumps her from behind a rock and pulls her from her horse, beating her with a switch. It's not long before Rooster pulls a gun on him. After commanding him to stop, LeBoeuf claims that he finishes what he starts. “You do and it’ll be the biggest mistake you ever made you Texas brushpopper!” LeBoeuf can see that Rooster is very serious. They set off uneasily from here on their manhunt for Cheyne, but time only proves that despite obvious differences and motivations, each of them are capable of doing right by one another and giving each other aid when they need it most. Throughout their travels, Mattie proves she doesn’t need much protection from even the most dangerous situations the frontier has to offer, but it doesn’t stop Rooster Cogburn from being there for his “sis.” Mattie and Rooster develop a friendship beyond respect during their mission. Even LeBoeuf, despite their many cracks about Texans, considers the two of them friends and allies worth dying for by the film’s end. Because Mattie knows that Rooster has no family, she goes as far as inviting him to have his final resting place laid beside her if he wishes. The trait they share is their “grit” and though the toughness of their nature brings them together, it’s the empathy and compassion they thought the world had taken from them that keeps them fighting for one another. Pierce Allen Pierce Allen is a local musician and movie enthusiast living in Beacon, NY. His favorite ice cream flavor is chocolate and vanilla mixed together. #NEWSLETTER #PierceAllen #TrueGrit #Theme #Article #Western #JohnWayne

Star Trek , in all its many forms, has always been about optimism, diversity, unity, science, culture, all of the cool things every growing child needs to turn into an anti-social, panic-obsessed (and yet highly polite and perhaps a little woke) individual. The psychology is prominent. The musings of philosophy are enlightening. Hell, if you were into science (as many of its fans were) you might even get an idea or two for inventing something 40 years later that popped up on a show from the '60s. It happened a lot (not a day goes by that I don't look at my phone and think of the tablets containing briefings and manifests from Star Trek: The Next Generation ). For a show that is mostly remembered as majorly cheesy Dad-nonsense with lasers, the show (again, in all of its multiple incarnations over the past 60 years) is also heavily revered for its unique way of delivering commentary and reflection on issues such as social status, current and past wars, racism, sexism, and other things you don't talk about with your parents. Star Trek communicated that any purely isolated thought in any singular philosophy is often not a very good idea, typically resulting in the negative intended effect of attributing such thought to begin with. The show not only presents intriguing and thematically well-executed philosophical contemplations, but it almost always presents these thoughts in tandem with a mirrored ideology or belief, whether from an opposing force, a subject-related occurrence to keep that episodic plot going, or just a casual talk with the ship’s bartender or cook. Star Trek rules and it makes you a better person. Facts. I've watched every episode (and film) of every Trek series; I own a Klingon dictionary for the Galactic Traveler, and a Star Trek sticker has adorned every vehicle I've ever owned. I served as an Engineman aboard the real USS Enterprise (CVN-65) and my mom says I sort of remind her of Chris Pine. Any Star Trek is good for me, I'll take all that I can get. I like Star Trek and Star Trek likes me. I even like the things about Star Trek that some of its biggest fans seem to reject, one of which would be “the feminist agenda driven, male-hating, Mary Sue-led abomination” that is Star Trek: Discovery. I muthafuckin' lurve DISCO (as it's called, because of course it is). Discovery has just recently come to an ending of sorts, with its season finale airing last Thursday on CBS All Access. And it completely left the future of its premise up in the air and able to be anything it wishes (it also has birthed rumors of several spin-offs, all of which sound varying degrees of okay to me. Again, I'll take all the Star Trek I can get; I don't have to think I'll like it). Discovery’s two-part send off titled, “Such Sweet Sorrow,” nails everything that is both good and bad about the new show. It hits great character beats that feel earned and inspired, while also falling victim to its biggest flaws. A large one of those being: an inability to take itself too seriously as a sci-fi episodic meditation on what it means to be human, what it means to be different, why we think and feel the way we do, and all the other really good Star Trek stuff we've come to expect. The show really does have some good characters, most of whom change drastically over the course of its initial two season run, and this flair of newly minted episode-to-episode way of ingesting Trek is actually quite charming to watch find its footing. The show is very rarely ever BAD; the most negative attribute I've been able to throw at it is “well, that's just silly,” but this is something I've said while watching some of the most beloved episodes of TNG or DS9 . Discovery is an entry into a series which at one point contained a cat person as a communications officer in an animated spin-off. (Her name was M'Ress. She was a Caitian). But I'll digress for the moment and save my DISCO talk for another time. For now, let's focus on why we're here today: Star Trek '09 (or Star Trek: The Star Trek , IYW) Let's get some of the facts out of the way real quick: Star Trek '09 turns 10 this year (on May 8th actually). It came out three days before the last birthday I would ever spend in the US Navy. It stars Chris Pine, Zachary Quinto, Zoe Saldana (who shares a scene with a green person. COOL!!), Simon Pegg, Anton Yelchin, Karl Urban (in full beast mode), John Chu, Leonard Nimoy, Bruce Greenwood, Eric Bana and Tyler Perry. Its runtime is a lean 2h 7m, it's rated PG-13, was distributed by Paramount Pictures, contains laser guns and is a modern masterpiece of sci-fi action cinema. These are the facts, tribbles. Now let's talk personal, subjective opinion... Michael Giacchino's Trek score is quite easily one of the very best of his ENORMOUSLY impressive career. This is the guy that cemented how The Incredibles sound when we remember it. This is where I'd normally start to go off on a tangent, cherry pick some damn awesome flicks with damn awesome scores by this damn awesome man, come up with some cheeky synonyms for “sensational” and try to get back to the article. Instead, I will respect your internet savvy skills (such as they are) and simply say look at this IMDb and just agree with me that this guy slaps quite vigorously. Put that up against how he took one of the most iconic themes of all time and created another that works in tandem with it. Mixing them throughout the film in a whirling opus of character and location themes, I believe we can close the book titled, “Giacchino is the Heir Apparent to John Williams” and move on. Here, listen to this for the rest of this article. The film also happens to contain one of the all time bangers (IMHO) of movie openings. A fantastic overture leads into a thrillingly executed setting of stakes, tone, plot points, theme, world building and character. It looks great, it sounds great, and what it's doing is immensely entertaining (plus Chris Hemsworth!). The attitude of the film bleeds through every corner of this prologue of sorts. “This is something new and fresh being respectively built from something old and beloved. You like Star Trek ? Fuck yeah, dude. Us, too. Let's go for a ride.” I've always liked the term “reconsideration” when it comes to the things this film chooses to embolden and maximize in this new take on Star Trek . It had to be separate. It had to be its own. Not only to be critically successful and not hated by fans, but there was also a legal reason for all of this which is very interesting. To keep it short, Paramount lost the rights to the shows, and CBS retained all merchandise authority. Paramount eventually struck a deal to make a separate timeline-based story where everything could be the same, (only slightly off) as to avoid confusion between the two entities operating their own versions of Trek : one boldly pushing forward to try new things (whether they worked or not), and the other merely releasing newer formats of the original 5+ series, (CBS All Access is worth the monthly service fee for this complete catalogue alone, just saying), and continuing to crank out the numbers annually through merchandise and licensing rights. This “reconsideration” was, first and foremost, executed with flying colors by a cast of actors tasked with taking on these similar interpretations of some of the most iconic characters in sci-fi history, as well as their performing counterparts who are just as idolized as the characters themselves. There is plotting and character work at play here that is just, well, the only way you can make this kind of Star Trek movie work. You can give Karl Urban an Academy Award for Acting every year from now until 2258 for his performance as Leonard “Bones” McCoy. But some of the best choices in character treatment and updates, come from the writing of these interpretations. The humbling, not only of Kirk, but Spock as well, (who comes off as a little priggish, however rightfully so) is such a strong foundation to build these relationships on, not only of these fictional characters in this world, but also our own relationship (as an audience) with this new, much different Trek . However, not all of the choices - whether they be fresh ideas or fan serving winks - work out for the best (the unsettling existence of the “reimagining” of Uhura's mini-skirt is not fine, no, no, nope it’s not). And while Eric Bana's legendary weird delivery of certain lines during the movie are exactly what this freakshow of a writer is looking for, (I love Alien: Covenant and Glass , FTW) I blame no one for laughing out loud at the “Hello Christopher, I'm Nero,” scene. Oh, Eric. Come back to us. We need you now more than ever, you Time Travelin' Spouse. The film’s writers are fucking weird, (like, very weird , if you're not familiar) and JJ Abrams’ direction probably only worked out because of the EXACT placement of this film in his filmography. I mean, shit, it'll probably go down as his best Star Wars movie, if not at least his best remake of A New Hope . But the pacing of the film (which can easily be credited to the performances and effects, and both rightfully so) is a stunning work of balancing tight action tropes, complete with set piece set-up and execution, as well as finding just the right moments for character building, world explaining and just straight up having a good, adventurous time. It's a pretty good example of what can be done when you have a good idea yet very little talent, and everybody else around you is remarkably good at their jobs. While the movie is most definitely bombastic in tone, its basic premise (like most great Trek stories) are relatively simple themes, and that's a good thing. There is something to be said about plainly and simply trying to explain a plain and simple humanist philosophy and story of friendship, fear, growth, revenge, and loss (all the good stuff), while maintaining at all times (sometimes to its own detriment) a fast and steady ride filled with excitement and cool beats that keeps you consistently engaged (pun). An obvious example in my mind of this kind of cool simplicity is using the big stick mentality of having a crude mining ship be able to beat out an ENTIRE FLEET of highly advanced militaristic spaceships, simply because it has advanced technology and “weaponry” from the future. This is just a neat sci-fi idea. Is it half as deep and chin scratching as some of the even lesser interesting concepts Trek has dealt with? No, but it does go boom when you'd like it to, and that's fun, and something that only the best of the Star Trek movies has taken advantage of (dune buggy racing aside). At this point, the obvious work-around that these writers found to produce something (mostly) original, while also adhering to the recently installed limitations by CBS and maintaining the fanbase's precious canon and continuity, was simply to take incredible advantage of one of Star Trek's most widely used tropes: time travel and alternate dimensions. This was always the path most traveled for these types of events, even if said tropes are more often than not side-eyed within the previous mentioned fanbase's community. This allowed them to simultaneously create their own thing while respecting the franchise, and still make it work for just about everyone. Notorious stick-in-the-mud, Roger Ebert, who was typically not quite into this type of action affair, referred to the loop around as “sort of brilliant,” which can definitely be read as high praise if you’re closely familiar with the critic’s tight use of certain terminology. But of course, this has become such a normal consideration these days when rebooting a heavily known franchise, and we are getting so many of them at such a fast (read: perverse) rate, that it can be easy to forget how refreshing such a unique take on such a large franchise was at the time of the film’s release. The film’s chosen path displays its nostalgic roots (which, let's not fool anyone, is the only reason you spend this amount of money on rebooting a franchise). We've all heard of Star Trek ! But as the saying goes, “This is not your Daddy's Star Trek .” The film deals with nostalgia in a manner that works for both newcomers AND fans of the series (more on nostalgia being used for good here ). Sure, there's some suuuuuuuuuuper stupid shit in there too. ( “I'll I got left is my bones” ) but it's all done in good fun, performed well, and typically tends to service something in the story, whether it be a complicated scientific explanation to dramatize the current stakes of the situation, or just a way to show us that these people are gonna be pretty good pals and we'll like hanging out with them for an adventure or two. These are all inspired gambles that could've cut the game before it even got the chance to begin, but for one reason or another, they all work out in the end. There really was no better way to do what they had initially set out to do. You may not like it, but what they are doing is at once inspired, thought out, loving, clever and really fucking cool and exciting. The film by its end, ultimately serves as a way to set the table for the next wild adventure (the disastrous Into Darkness , followed by the fun-enough and , admittedly, super-bold Beyond ). Our characters like each other now, so let's go have some more fun with them in space!! While I'm not privy to revisiting the latter two installments, it's a real testament to the power of the original Trek that I would be at a fourth installment's opening night premiere with a huge smile and an eager heart (which could also just be my being disgustingly obsessed with anything and everything Star Trek ). These actors work, the fresh tone works, the score works, and we've been shown now that the cheekiness of the original series can be transferred in varying ways depending on the mood of the director. Give us more of this Trek . But also more of every other Trek . And new Trek . Continue to allow us to “boldly go” at any and every opportunity, with those we know, those we just met, or someone in between. Mike Burdge Editor-in-chief Founder of and programmer for Story Screen. Lover of stories and pizza in the dark. When he isn't watching movies, you can find him reading things about people watching movies. He lives in Beacon, NY with his cat who is named after Kevin Bacon's character from Friday the 13th. #Newsletter #StarTrek #Discovery #MikeBurdge #Article #JJAbrams #BoldyGo #SciFi #Space

This isn’t the Sabrina Spellman I grew up knowing, what with her sparkler-like pointer finger, stuffed familiar, and light-hearted (albeit quirky) plot lines. In fact, that Sabrina Spellman may as well have been sacrificed to appease the Dark Lord, allowing this new iteration to be birthed from hell fire. Hail Satan, am I right? The Netflix developed series, Chilling Adventures of Sabrina allows all of us 30-somethings a chance to relish in the guilty pleasure that is witnessing a re-envisioned, hard core feminist, progressive and morally ambiguous version of an all too familiar witch. While I am all about this new horrific ‘Brina, as a self-practicing witch, (for those of you who didn’t know, surprise) I still have a few hang-ups regarding the antiquated perpetuation that witchcraft itself is inherently evil and something to fear. The first half of Sabrina , depicts a headstrong teen in the swell of her high school years who is attempting to straddle both her mortal life and her dark calling. We watch as Sabrina, in all of her well-intended naivety, clings to the notion that she will prevail in avoiding the final steps of accepting her fate and submitting her soul to Satan. This. This right here, is the anchor of my discord with the overall appeal of the show. This new adaptation of Sabrina sensationalizes a practice that is already shrouded in fear, often misunderstood, and by extreme measure, was unsuccessfully abolished. Regarding my own personal experiences in attempting to be completely transparent with friends, I have been met with shocked looks and exclamations of “you’re crazy.” I can attest to the deep societal ingraining that the word “witch” is synonymous with “evil” (or at the very least, “lunacy”). Sabrina’s rejection, and constant battle with the darkness is what I root for, though the show unabashedly presents a kinship between witches and the devil, leading to the inevitability of Sabrina signing the “book of the beast,” in blood no less. So, okay. For the sake of entertainment, the Chilling Adventures of Sabrina plunges head first into the caverns of hell and high school, and don’t get me wrong, I’m along for the ride.Though I would be remiss in neglecting to state that the God-fearing, ill-advised tropes of yesteryear are nothing more than theatrical devices to pull ratings. In truth, Sabrina’s trials represent a rather cliché coming of age story that tickles us to pieces with its macabre wrappings and mystical frills. In the second half of the first season, we watch our witch waver in her reluctance to embrace her darkness, an adolescent’s innate prerogative. Though we are never let down by Spellman, who continues to fight for the greater good in spite of fate, in spite of her birth right, and in spite of the Dark Lord. Nothing quite like a tiny framed blonde raising the dead and exorcising demons to get the cauldron boiling, eh? Why do I keep watching? Vastly different from the Sabrina Spellman of my youth, this fresh take is the reintroduction that audiences crave. Dark, dramatic, sexy, and politically correct, we notice a major modern movement touching on social dialogues we are currently immersed in. With initiatives such as W.I.C.C.A. (Women’s Intersectional Cultural and Creative Association) enacted at Baxter High, the representation of non-binary gender roles, pansexuality, the act of bringing witchcraft back into the mainstream, and the fall of the ultimate dictator/patriarchy, (in this particular political climate) what’s not to love? It doesn’t hurt that ‘Brina turns into a badass, armed with a seemingly endless well of hell-raising power. So, despite my gripes regarding the absolutes of the craft that the show has presented, it’s the compelling type of culturally relevant guilty pleasure that we need and deserve. No shame in my game when I admit to others that I devoured a show geared towards adolescents – there’s really mature content, alright? Having binged the entirety of the second half of the first season within a week and a half, I perhaps did not allow the enormity of where the show was going to grow organically. Needless to say, I am reeling, and left wondering where can they possibly go next? I suppose there will always be another way in which hell can consume earth, or another high school dance allotting for long, lingering looks across the punch bowl. Exploitation of fear aside, happy news abounds in the confirmation that the Chilling Adventures of Sabrina has been renewed for another season consisting of 16 episodes, also broken into two parts. Hold tight my fellow horror/supernatural fanatics, and let us fully digest this first course of deliciousness. Oh, and be kind to your local witches, or you might grow to regret it! Yeah, that’s right; they might not gift you with the essential oil infused moisturizer they batch-made with natural ingredients! Or, you won’t get to try their homemade berry pies baked to perfection containing fresh-picked fruits! You would only have yourself to blame. Stamper A Beacon transplant having moved to town a few years ago. With a background in photography, literature, and a fondness of nature she does well in keeping busy in this bustling little community. #Newsletter #Review #KatelynStamper #Sabrina #Witch #Netflix #TV #Representation #Stamper

With his first two movies director Robert Eggers has more than proved himself as a young artist. His work brings a unique style and fresh perspective to a genre typically overlooked, while in spirit, retaining a connection to the “B Movie” nature of our favorite classic horror films. Eggers said when interviewed by Bloody-Disgusting that “...both [ The VVitch and The Lighthouse ] are me trying to commune with the folk culture of my past and are me and my brother’s take on New England folk tales. So they’re certainly companion pieces.” After watching The Lighthouse , I wanted to dive deeper into a few of the parallels that I noticed that might make these films companions, and to explore some of the techniques the Eggers brothers used in writing and directing that adds new depth to the ghost story. DIALECTS The first thing that stands out to me from both of these movies is a commitment to outdated ways of speaking. Whether it be in dialogue, accents, or expressions, this commitment anchors the characters and audience to the setting, and creates a more complete sense of realism in stories fraught with absurd, supernatural events. Using old forms of a familiar language help suspend disbelief and add to the feeling that we’re seeing something we weren’t meant to see. For The VVitch , great lengths were taken to authentically recreate everything they could about the period, but reproducing true, Colonial English would make the dialogue virtually incomprehensible to audiences. According to Robert Eggers, what is used in the film is based upon today’s Yorkshire accent, combined with language taken from folkloric and historical accounts of witchcraft. This isn’t always easy to understand, but their dedication to dialects in script and performance immediately set both of these movies apart as different. The same approach was used for The Lighthouse , but they benefited from the story being from a more recent time period. The authentic accents of the time are more recognizable when compared to present day English, and both Willem Dafoe and Robert Pattinson did extensive work watching lighthouse keepers speak to get their accents perfect. Dafoe says that though they tried out several accents, they stuck with what they thought the character was originally written for. His character Wake’s accent is a combination of West Country English and “the Robert Newton kind of classic pirate,” which absolutely has a certain rhythm and intent to its enunciation. If the writing was intended for that, it would be quite hard to let go of the accent. Pattinson’s Winslow, claims to be well traveled, so his Maine fisherman accent serves as a basis while hinting at a Canadian and possibly New York influence which comes out sounding a little like Daniel Day Lewis’ New Amsterdam accent from Gangs of New York . Pattinson said this accent rooted his character and performance in an interview with Vox, “When I first read the script and was figuring out something to connect to, I was listening to all these different Maine lobster fisherman accents. It sounded like a contorted accent, and you had to contort yourself to get the accent right, like in your face. Then it translated over to your body.” Pattinson has joked around with the idea that Dafoe’s pirate accent has been an influence on his Batman voice for the upcoming movie. I hope he goes through with it and plays him as a full on pirate but regardless, I can’t wait to see what he does. I have a sneaking suspicion he’s going to be my favorite Batman of all time but that’s a discussion for another day... SCORE Both of these films were scored by Mark Korven. If you’re listening to the dialogue, you’re undoubtedly noticing the sound design as well. To describe score and sound as eerie or haunting really doesn’t do it justice. It’s beautifully written and completely upsetting, even when the music is tonal and not purposely serving to put the audience on edge. Korven says the much of the score for The VVitch was played on nyckelharpa and waterphone, which are medieval and 20th century instruments respectively. They’re used to evoke something that sounds like it could be from that time period. These instruments alone certainly give a sense of being lonely or lost, while the orchestration of extensive layering can leave you feeling genuinely disoriented. In an interview about the score with Bloody Disgusting, Korven said that he and Eggers went through efforts to capture the lives of the characters and the world they live in. “We both wanted to keep things quite minimal, and keep any human imperfections in the score. The score is tense and dissonant, but there’s also a certain fragility there, which reflects these people living on the edge of existence.” Korven’s relationship with Eggers has evolved around creating music specifically for the characters. He later said of his experience scoring The Lighthouse , “Robert [Eggers] and I were rather like the two wickies that went insane in ‘The Lighthouse,’ musically speaking. We travelled to some very dark harmonic and textural places. We both enjoy not just breaking the rules, but blowing them to smithereens. The spirit of experimentation was always present.” Where the score of The VVitch evokes feelings of being lonely or lost in the woods, the score of The Lighthouse evokes that of being lost at sea. Screaming strings sound like something between flocks of gulls and sea monsters. Whether certain sounds are part of the story or a part of the score, they quickly become indiscernible as tension ramps up in both films. The moaning, chanting voices in The VVitch make you feel like someone or something is constantly right behind you, and the foghorn in The Lighthouse has gained new meaning through repetition, seeming much more like a “bell [tolling] for thee” than a signal to keep travelers in check. The sounds and score reinforce the character's fear that they are alone in facing something they can’t understand. LONELINESS Both stories follow characters who willingly agree with an outside party to leave their home with the hope of finding a fresh start and bettering their lives. This takes them further out than they’ve ever been into an unfamiliar territory. The family in The VVitch and Robert Pattinson’s “Winslow” both start on unsure footing, and they are left almost completely alone to their own devices. The terror and desperation that comes with this loneliness is the first stage of our characters’ unraveling, and it influences our doubt of what we know to be real as an audience. Both stories have characters that fall prey to supernatural forces simply by being an ordinary person, sexual in nature and starved of all human contact. In these pre-electricity, New England settings, taking care of even basic necessities is shown as grueling hard work. To survive out there alone takes everything these people have. A modern audience comfortably viewing these movies is forced to contemplate these very acts as technological marvels as well as pity these characters before anything supernatural has begun to work against them. The constant strain on the family and these men, to survive at the bare minimum, serves as a reminder of how vulnerable people of this era were to all things, not just witches and mer-people and devils. Sickness, hunger, cold, wild animals, and other people are all constantly referenced as potential sources of danger and death. The possibility of something worse traps our characters in a place where they’re constantly fighting to live in a terrible existence, yet remain stuck between a past that haunts them and an imminent, inescapable doom. Sucks. LEGENDS & MYTHS Early American folklore makes up the basis for both of these tales. We enter into them knowing these legends as the fantasies that they are. These movies are two of the most effective at using their settings to convince audiences of something unbelievable. We know so little of these bygone times, that when we really consider them, and when they’re shown to us in such exquisite detail, we’re forced to reconsider what we think we know. All characters in both pieces are sure of their world, either by age, experience, or religion. The mythical beasts and supernatural events in these tales are more “cosmic” than those of a typical horror film; they exist to show our characters how limited their concept of reality and knowledge of the world really are. Though the folk legends they know may be true, these things are Lovecraftian in a sense from somewhere beyond human understanding. The characters’ only choice is surrendering to these horrible creatures and curses. In an environment where human beings can barely survive on their own, they have utterly no hope against something that thrives by feeding on their pain and constant struggle. These tales both end with an eventual acceptance of these greater powers despite their obviously sinister nature. ….. A few quick differences in these movies I felt were worth noting! The Lighthouse might genuinely make you laugh where The VVitch never felt remotely funny though at times, is equally absurd. The Lighthouse does feel less like a ghost story though, equally steeped in folklore and myth. The VVitch felt like a nightmare where The Lighthouse felt like a fever dream. Less a difference, but worth mentioning that Jarin Blaschke shot both as Director of Cinematography and both look fantastic but The Lighthouse is one of the most beautiful looking movies I’ve ever seen. Go watch both next time you’re in the mood to be deeply unnerved and see what connections you find! Pierce Allen Pierce Allen is a local musician and movie enthusiast living in Beacon, NY. His favorite ice cream flavor is chocolate and vanilla mixed together. #Newsletter #Articles #PierceAllen #TheWitch #TheVVitch #TheLighthouse #A24 #Horror #RobertEggers

Hey, you! Thanks for clicking on my Best of 2019 article. As per usual, I've used the last two digits of the year in question to raise (limit?) my top movies of the year list to a more acceptable size. Good for me AND you! While I sadly did not have the time to consume my normal monstrous fare of cinema throughout the year, (partly due to my existential drive to change the American movie theater going experience with the help of my trusty co-cinephiles in crime) I did make a rushed attempt at the final hour to pick up the pieces of the many films that flew by me in a seemingly rushed daze. 2019 brought another round of phenomenal films from all genres, budgets, people and places, once again affirming my stance that we are living in a true golden age of movies - from landscape changing blockbusters to the arrival of some soon-to-be (if not already) legendary talent both behind and in front of the cameras. So, if you'll continue to indulge me for a bit longer, I'd like to share some musings I've had on some of my new favorite stories. And with that... let's punch it. 19. Burning Cane A staggering debut from then 17 year old Phillip Youmans, whose name is so all over this thing, simply referring to him as the writer/director should be legally disrespectful. Poetic, poignant, and as sharp and sweet as a sip of cheap booze after a long week, it's movies like this that remind us why cameras were invented. 18. The Last Black Man in San Francisco Gentle people, immortalized in a fable fitting for the 21st century. A studied enchantment of a film, utilizing all the tools and excesses its moderate beliefs can sustain, resulting in a dreamlike euphoria I so long for every time the lights go down. 17. Her Smell There's a familiar feeling of distance between the viewer and Elizabeth Moss' Becky Something, anchored by an inspired decision to not give us any context in which to relate to (or care about) her from the very first frame. We are thrown into the deep end of moments of her life sporadically, some more degenerate than others, and left to serve as witness to the devolution of a monumental figure, watching the phoenix burn up again and again, unsure if a rise is warranted or even possible. 16. Long Day's Journey Into Night A sumptuous repast to all five senses, LDJIN is one of those unique movie experiences that must be just that to a person in order to be appreciated: an experience. This is the type of movie that demands attention at every moment, earning the tantalization of our brains with a sexy noir mystery and slick cinematic design, only to lasso us in with a 55-minute long shot (no editing tricks here, fellas) that would spellbind any soul passionate enough to care. 15. The Lighthouse An absurdly good time, Robert Eggers' second film almost feels like a balancing of the scales he tilted with 2017's The VVitch , a movie so in absence with any form of humor that I really can't blame a particular brand of filmaholic for hating it. But Eggers' ironically light moments, along with the Pattinson-Dafoe bromance we never knew we deserved, shine an enjoyable luster on an already clever and thoughtful tale of resentment and madness. 14. Waves Trey Edward Shults does it again. The director has utilized his seemingly natural gift for invoking and sustaining dread throughout his brief career in multiple genres, and no where else is it more cruelly used than in these real life, tender situations with people you genuinely care about. 13. Knives Out I'm always down for a good ol' murder mystery. Rian Johnson's latest contribution to the genre mixes the social metaphors and implications of some of Agatha Christie's best, with the sly humor and mischievousness of 1985's Clue . It is unsurprising, yet thrilling all the same; the future looks bright for more stories of the famed Detective Benoit Blanc, and I can't wait to see what kind of dang freak Oscar Isaac plays in the next one. 12. Marriage Story Marriage Story is an assessment of a relationship, and its most intriguing approach is how the questions the characters ask themselves are far more telling to the outside world than any answers they can get. It is a staggeringly dramatic series of equalizing effects, repeatedly culminating in bouts of misdirected grasps at things our characters would probably not even know what to do with should they actually grab hold. 11. Little Women Sometimes we can only sink into the recesses of our own palms and sulk, fantasizing about what it would be like to receive pure, unadulterated visions from filmmakers of unique voices and infinite talent. And other times, you get a movie like Little Women . Greta Gerwig's energetic and playful adaptation of the classic literary work is everything you would want from a film that is tied to such a cultural and generational artifact: new ideas, great actors, beautiful sets and costumes, a self-aware and witty script, and Chris Cooper. 10. The Nightingale Sure, your mileage may vary of what you can and should take in when handing yourself over to a film, but throughout my viewing of The Nightingale , I often reminded myself that I was in good hands; Jennifer Kent knows what she is doing, and if I stick it out I'll be the better for it. And that was true, because after all of its horrors and violent acts, The Nightingale revealed itself, not only to be a vicious example of exploitative cinema, but a movie with a kind soul contemplating the very existence of these violences and what they mean to all those involved. 9. Pain and Glory (Dolor y gloria) While my dear, sweet The Souvenir wasn't able to crack this big list, its brother film most certainly did. Both movies have their own separate and distinctive plots, of course, but both are also about the beauty of having an intimate relationship with film, and the sacrifices we inflict on our lives (both physically and emotionally) to keep as close to that passion as we can. Antonio Banderas has given, in my opinion, the very best performance of his entire career, and I longingly await the next chance I have to be in Salvador Mallo's world. 8. Wild Rose As honky-tonkin' as an introspective character study can get, Wild Rose also has the big ol' bonus of having one helluva breakout performance. Jessie Buckley is stimulating as Rose, a down on her luck and understandably immature young mother of two, with such a big chip on her shoulder she should come with a side of Texas toast flavored dip. There's nothing quite like seeing an actor dig so deep into a character so interesting, and Buckley's ability to make you root for Rose, even in the face of some truly terrible actions, makes all her highs and lows feel all the more powerful. 7. 1917 PSA: Roger Deakins can shoot a fuckin' movie. And while we're at, my boy Thomas Newman? Uhh, yeah, the dude can score the hell out of a film. These two powerhouses, working in tandem with an increasingly interesting Sam Mendes, have produced a film so singular in its approach, that I found myself often forgetting that it operates within a genre that feels like we've seen it all. 1917 works as a sort of greatest hits mix of some of the truly great war movie moments, ripping from classics like: Saving Private Ryan, Dunkirk, Paths of Glory , and even Enemy at the Gates . The movie is an absolute stunner, a rock and roll ride through hell. It also has probably my favorite moment from a film in 2019: a 30 second piece of a much larger whole where you can feel all of the artistry and work of thousands that goes into making a movie harmonizing instantly and becoming something else that has only ever been described as movie magic. 6. Uncut Gems The Safdie Brothers have made a career out of highlighting dirtbags as their protagonists. It's a very 70’s thing, and these boys love the cinema schlock of that well-defined era, grit and all. Adam Sandler turns in prooooobably his best performance to date, and the fact that his recognizable face and voice lend themselves to the character of Howard, is testament alone to his continued superstardom. Uncut Gems is a tense ride of a movie, released in a season that seemed to be overflowing with movies being pitched as tense rides. But where those films earnestly construct technical wizardry, or just straight up rip-off Taxi Driver like it's not a big deal, Uncut Gems achieves and sustains its tension through performance and unbelievable pacing, tightening its dirty grip around the viewer in a seemingly endless squeeze of doom. 5. Transit Transit is a great movie, full stop. I am in love with this movie. Don't watch any trailers, don't read anything about it. It's on Amazon Prime currently, and you should just watch it as soon as you possibly can. It’s a breathtaking display of direction and character work, and it’s stacked top to bottom with dazzling performances and riveting moments that sing to you from the screen. Similarly to 1917's previously mentioned moment of magic, Transit easily has my favorite final shot of any movie this year. If it wasn't for the fact that we had four masterpieces of film swimming around the ocean of 2019, this one probably would've landed as my number one. Seriously, go watch it. 4. The Farewell This is a lovely film filled with so many beautiful and heartbreaking moments, it's almost hard to reduce into a few short sentences just how much this movie means to me. The Farewell was the big buzz movie of the year, and I had been tracking its distribution and release for some time after its initial premiere and swift pick up by A24 (long may They reign). So it was no surprise that when I finally sat down to enjoy my own private screening, (perks of the movie theater biz) that I was immediately snug in the warm embrace of this delightfully sad and playfully electric dramedy. And Awkwafina is my Queen now (long may She reign). 3. Once Upon a Time... in Hollywood The most mature and best written effort from one of the most talented and ingenuitive artists working in the cinema landscape for the past three decades. OUATIH is all the things that everyone has already adored about it: a love letter to Hollywood and the generation that populated its time period, Tarantino's reconsideration of himself and his place in the canon of the La La Land history books, and the continued rise of middle-aged Brad Pitt. It can't be understated just how well all of these moving parts work, from the absolutely perfect execution of the “Meanwhile, back on the ranch...” multi-linear storytelling trope, to the spot on in more ways than you can comprehend, existence of Margot Robbie's Sharon Tate. The ninth film from Quentin Tarantino is even greater than any of us could have possibly dreamt he could make it. 2. Parasite The movie of the year! Parasite is the type of flick that makes you excited to be alive during its release, to see how the platforms shift, and what the veils expose on their lifting, both surrounding the movie and within the movie itself. Easily the best ensemble cast of the year, (in a year with a lot of stellar ensemble casts from various genres) Parasite is Bong Joon-ho's main event, seemingly reframing his entire filmography from a load of good movies to a series of increasingly audacious choices leading to the big one. A wry thriller that would make Hitchcock's palms sweaty, it was a delight to experience, and even more delightful to see it be embraced by the pop culture stratosphere in such a heavy way. 1. Midsommar When we grieve, we grieve alone. Always. The luckiest of us will always have those closest to us to give support, to get us through it, and of course, we would be lost without them. But ultimately, our grief is something that no one else can truly feel, at least not in the specific way we feel it. Even shared traumas, rooted from the same event, have various implications on each individual. So when we grieve, our grief is an isolated experience that rarely fully translates to the world around us, and it certainly never leaves us fully. It is ours to cope with, and we do our best to manage it with the resources that we have afforded ourselves, unknowingly, in simply living our day to day lives. Midsommar asks the question: What if you had no one to support you in your grief, not even yourself? Florence Pugh's Dani, is in a constant spiral from the film’s phenomenally executed opening scenes. They lead her to make choices that she doesn't feel fully comfortable with, all in an attempt to regain some stability. In a world where she has been literally orphaned, she then (sort of) intentionally disconnects herself, retreating on a “boys trip,” with her fart-head boyfriend, Christian, and his college buddies. Midsommar is a lot of things: an eerily bright folk-horror and an examination of toxic relationships and the allure of codependency. But most interestingly, it is a story about a woman who has lost everything, maybe even herself, who is desperately trying to grab hold of the only things she thinks matter, only to have those things abuse and manipulate her into a state of even worse existential crisis. The movie is well-crafted, and contains some of the best jokes and cringe-worthy moments of the year, and it is easily the one movie on this list that I can see myself returning to often, whenever I'm in need of a good movie with a bad mood. (Other cool movies of the year: Glass, The Beach Bum, Avengers: Endgame, John Wick Chapter 3, Booksmart, Rocketman, Godzilla: King of the Monsters, El Camino, Doctor Sleep, Memory, The Two Popes, Climax, The Souvenir, Honey Boy, The Art of Self-Defense, High Life, Luce, A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, I Lost My Body) Mike Burdge Editor-in-chief Founder of and programmer for Story Screen. Lover of stories and pizza in the dark. When he isn't watching movies, you can find him reading things about people watching movies. He currently resides in Poughkeepsie, NY and most assuredly is going through a French Connection phase. #Newsletter #Articles #MikeBurdge #Bestof #2019 #Bestof2019 #Top19

2018 was... well, it sure was another year. These year-end lists will probably get pretty repetitive if I continue to start them off with commentary on how the world at-large behaved. Fortunately, 2018 shared a lot in common with 2017, in that a ton of great art was created in the face of social and political adversity. It was positively jam-packed with a range of films that painted a diverse spectrum of emotion and experience. I saw 51 movies released in 2018, which is a new personal record, and I have a “still to watch” list almost as long. (I’m so, so sorry Mid90s, Wildlife , and Burning . I promise I will get to you soon). In a way, 2018 was a strange year from my own personal movie watching experience. There were a number of flicks that I expected would be entirely my thing and end up on this list. I built up assumptions in my head that only left me disappointed when those movies didn’t connect with me in the way I was hoping. I guess this is my own weird way of citing First Reformed, You Were Never Really Here , and Annihilation as my honorable mentions. I really enjoyed all three of these movies, and I respect the hell out of them. But I was let down when I didn’t fall in love them for reasons I have a hard time putting my finger on. I think the biggest lesson I’ll try to carry with me into 2019 is to avoid letting my expectations get in the way of my enjoyment, and to let movies meet me on their own terms. In that way, most of the movies that resonated with me most deeply this year were the ones that came as complete surprises. Here are my ten favorites. 10. The Night Eats the World Listen, I get it. Zombie fiction is getting pretty tired. But I think this little indie darling proves there’s still some life to be found in the shambling genre. The Night Eats the World imagines how an introvert might spend his time during the apocalypse after being trapped alone in an apartment building. It’s sort of like a cross between 28 Days Later and I Am Legend . More than that though, it’s a pensive look at how an oppressively dark and dangerous world can lead you to build walls up around yourself. Maybe those walls are comfortable at first and solitude feels like a reprieve. Eventually though, those protective measures become a cage, and your isolation does far more damage than the world you’re hiding from. The Night Eats the World is an invigoratingly fresh take on the zombie metaphor that stuck with me more than any other flick in the undead genre ever has. 9. First Man With First Man , Damien Chazelle took what could have just been a very competent historical biopic about the lunar landing and instead made a movie about the human cost of unchecked ambition. I was far more emotionally invested in Armstrong, his family, and his colleagues than I expected to be, thanks in no small part to a huge cast of stellar performances. This connection made it that much more impactful every time one of the characters climbed into, what more or less amounted to, a tin can with a rocket strapped to it. Chokingly claustrophobic cinematography and sound design made every expedition a breathless and traumatic experience. Every failure was that much more heartbreaking, and every victory more triumphant. All of that culminates to a somber, bittersweet finale that’s probably my favorite ending of the year. 8. The Favourite Another year, another Lanthimos movie in Jack’s top list. With The Favourite , Lanthimos moved away from the explicit absurdity and stilted dialogue that I have come to love so deeply. Instead, he delivered a complex tale of personal intrigue and political maneuvering that’s probably his best film yet. Colman, Weisz, and Stone are a fantastic trio of leads whose chemistry is absolutely electric. My own personal bias against a more widely accessible Lanthimos movie almost prevented me from enjoying this one as much as I did, but the sheer craft here is just too good to deny. 7. Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse Sony pulled off a damn miracle with this one. Spider-Man has quickly become the most confusing and complicated superhero property out there, with multiple iterations of the character released by different companies in rapid succession. Then Spider-Verse comes along, based on the premise of multiple Spider-People, and proves to be the best of the bunch. It manages to simultaneously remain completely reverent to the broad comic book fiction, while standing on its own as a unique work. For longtime web head fans, it provides a deep vein of fun winks and nods to the long running character multiverse. For those coming in fresh, it’s a compelling and fun story that doesn’t depend on any prior knowledge to enjoy. On top of all that, it’s got one of the coolest and most gorgeous animation styles of recent memory. Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse swung in from seemingly out of nowhere into my shortlist of favorite superhero movies ever. 6. Eighth Grade It’s funny to see just how far Bo Burnham has come from his YouTube days. His corny but catchy videos were all the rage back when I was in high school over ten years ago. Now he’s written and directed one of my favorite films of the year. Eighth Grade perfectly captures all of the anxieties and hopes of middle school adolescence in a way that transcends generations. Elsie Fischer’s Kayla attends middle school in a much different looking time than I did, with smartphones and social media dominating culture. Yet all of her problems and fears remain instantly relatable to how I felt back then. Burnham directs some of these fears in a way that almost makes Eighth Grade feel like a horror movie, as these moments of social discomfort become visceral through Fisher’s excellent performance. Eighth Grade is a stunning debut for both Burnham and Fischer alike, and I can’t wait to see what they do in the future. 5. Won’t You Be My Neighbor? This documentary was the only movie this year that had me openly crying in a theater. That was partially because of the tenderness and kindness of Fred Rogers and the purity of the life he led. It’s also partially because of the current lack of such a genuinely decent public figure that we so desperately need right now. Won’t You Be My Neighbor? tells the true story of such a man, revealing someone who, despite countless rumors to the contrary, really just wanted to teach people the value of empathy. I think part of what broke my heart about this documentary was the public cynicism that Mr. Rogers faced. Surely someone who presented as so nice must have some kind of dark secret. But the secrets revealed here were only that he dealt with severe self doubt, and that the cruelness of the world weighed down upon him. That makes Won’t You Be My Neighbor? both healing and sad at the same time. 4. Thunder Road Thunder Road is the feature-length version of a short film released by writer, director, and lead actor Jim Cummings in 2016. The film opens with a heartfelt if not unconventional eulogy by Cummings, whose energy and charm is immediately disarming. A lot of what I like about this movie can be directly credited to Cummings' performance. His role as a parent and a police officer going through an exceptionally tough time is perfectly balanced between laugh out loud funny and heartbreakingly tragic. It’s the kind of movie whose small, personal moments add up to far more than the sum of its parts, and one of the most touching films I saw this year. 3. Hereditary A24 proves yet again that they sure do know how to pick ‘em when it comes to modern horror. Writer and director Ari Aster’s debut is an absolute masterclass of tension and dread. This is a movie that slowly seeps in from its very first shot, worming its way under your skin and burrowing into the dark parts of your brain. Toni Collette delivers one of my favorite performances of the year, one that’s surely destined to stand amongst the horror all-time greats. Hereditary is the kind of slow burn art house horror that A24 has made itself known for, and that’s consistently my most anticipated yearly release. Ari Aster has proven himself worthy of the company of Trey Edward Shults and Robert Eggers, and no doubt has an incredibly promising career ahead of him. 2. Sorry to Bother You Sorry to Bother You had pretty much everything I wanted from a movie in 2018. Its combination of bonkers absurdist humor and scathing socioeconomic commentary is perfectly timely and cathartic. It feels like an exclamation point on a year where rising discontent with the political and economic status quo is reaching critical levels. This is the kind of movie that I’ve consistently seen people refer to as, “one of the craziest movies I’ve ever seen!” But really, it’s an insightful and honest film that is only slightly hyperbolizing an increasingly insane world. I’m hesitant to write anything more because it’s one of those movies that deserves to be seen with as little about it spoiled as possible. That said, it’s one of the freshest movies I’ve seen in a long time and I can’t recommend it enough. 1. Mandy Mandy was hands down, my favorite movie-going experience this year. I saw it knowing almost nothing about it besides the presence of Nic Cage and some positive early buzz from the festival circuits. I was completely delighted from start to finish. Mandy is sort of like two completely different short films put together that maintain a cohesive and unique sense of style. It’s partially a dream-like trance of a love story, with ethereal lighting and Johann Johansson’s rumbling ambient score. It’s also a loud, violent, bad hallucinogenic trip of a revenge thriller. Mandy also features Nic Cage in one of his career’s best, with a performance that ranges from quiet and understated to full on Nic Rage. All of these seemingly disparate elements come together to make a movie that’s surprising, beautiful, tragic, funny, and just downright cool in a way that I loved wholeheartedly. Jack Kolodziejski Co-Head of Podcasting Jack makes drugs for a living, but not necessarily the fun kind. He enjoys international travel and discussing music, movies, and games in excruciating detail. #Newsletter #Article #Bestof2018 #JackKolodziejski #TheNightEatstheWorld #FirstMan #TheFavourite #SpiderMan #IntotheSpiderVerse #EighthGrade #WontYouBeMyNeighbor #ThunderRoad #Hereditary #SorrytoBotherYou #Mandy

It has been over a year since I joined the rogue’s gallery of upstate cinephiles known to most as the Story Screen family! In that year, I saw enough terrific movies from a variety of sources to make narrowing down a list of 10 great films an extraordinarily difficult endeavor. There are some films that I would have loved to see before the deadline that may have made the list if I had seen them previously like Widows, Destroyer , or The Favourite , but we can’t always see everything, can we? However, I believe I have successfully catered a list of 10 films, with the same criteria of last year’s, that both were widely impressive on a technical level, as well as strongly affected me on an emotional level. This list will be as spoiler free as possible. I hope, through my list, that you discover films that you may not have heard of previously, and that you will gain an interest in watching them, or that this list will inspire you to finally get around to watching that one film you’ve been meaning to watch for a while. Before jumping straight into the ordered top 10, I would like to give a shout out to 10 other great films that just missed the cut. If this were a less competitive year in film, one or many of these would have definitely made my list. Consider this an unordered “11-20” if I were to expand and make a top 20: BlackKklansman First Man Searching First Reformed Suspiria Mission: Impossible - Fallout The Night Comes For Us Isle of Dogs Mid90s Overlord I would also like to give a special shout-out to Eighth Grade , as the best movie I saw this year that I could not finish. Bo Burnham crafted the awkward and anxious experiences of middle school so goddamn perfectly onto film, that it is just too pain-inducing for me to get through. One day I will power through it. One day. Now, onto the official list! 10. Have A Nice Day A thrilling and darkly funny film, it reminded me of the stylistic cinematography of Wong Kar Wai with the sharp wit of the Coen Brothers. This Chinese animated film by director and animator, Liu Juan, was a late edition, but I was so impressed by it, that it had to put it on my list. Its simple and minimal animation, as well as its slower pace, makes it a grounded and relaxed film, letting its story and atmosphere wash over you as you take it all in. While having a simple premise, the narrative takes enough twists and turns throughout, as well as has a menagerie of memorable characters to make Have a Nice Day an easy recommendation. 9. You Were Never Really Here What an absolutely chilling experience this masterfully crafted film was, and yet it left me in the end with a feeling of hope and optimism. The film is an absorbing and introspective character study as it subverts and humanizes the type of anti-hero we’ve grown to love over many years of cinema, showing the character archetype in a new light. Joaquin Phoenix provides one of my favorite performances of the year, providing equal measures of childlike sympathy and relentlessness. The violence felt similar to that of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre , showing the beginning and end of a violent occurrence, while using clever editing and cinematography to obscure the event itself, leaving the audience to fill in the blanks with their own imagination. 8. The Ballad of Buster Scruggs This is like a high quality buffet of everything I love about the Coen Brothers. Pitch black humor and pitch black themes. Unlike other anthology films I’ve seen in the past, every one of the shorts delivered, and they all highlight just how talented and versatile the Coen Brothers are as filmmakers. If I were to rank the shorts individually, I would rank them: 6. The Mortal Remains 5. Near Algodones 4. The Ballad of Buster Scruggs 3. The Gal Who Got Rattled 2. All Gold Canyon 1. Meal Ticket 7. Spider-Man: Into The Spider-Verse I think a major similarity between both animated films on my list is that their animation styles are so unique and so exclusive to the films the animation shapes. I don’t think I’ve seen anything quite like Into The Spider-Verse and I don’t think I’m going to see animation that knocked me off my ass the way it did for a very long time. Not only is the animation drop-dead gorgeous, it also gave me a feeling of pure sincerity, optimism, and excitement no Spider-Man film has ever come close to since the original Raimi trilogy. What an absolute delight. 6. Sorry to Bother You If there were more comedy-oriented directors as visually inventive and hysterically funny as Boots Riley, the world would be a better place. Merging the breakneck visual gags of an 80’s Zucker Brothers film with a biting social commentary on modern capitalism and race, Sorry to Bother You was an unexpectedly brilliant film that brings what I love about using comedy in a visual medium to the forefront. This film GOES places, as no one with little prior knowledge of this film would ever accurately guess how this film plays out beginning to end accurately. Seriously, if you haven’t checked this one out, go into it blind. You’ll be glad you did. 5. Annihilation Alex Garland continues to prove that he is one of the strongest voices in modern day science fiction film. Annihilation is presented so beautifully and poetically that watching the film feels like a dream. That is, until it feels like a nightmare, with some of the most terrifying creatures I’ve ever seen on film. What carries Annihilation , most of all, is its strong thematic center, as well as its mostly all female cast, as its metaphors and symbolism blossom like a flower the more times I’ve watched the film, making it a wonderful film to return to this year, and I imagine for many years to come. 4. Revenge You can read a more thorough analysis on why I believe Coralie Fargeat’s subversive rape revenge film is one of my favorites of the year here . 3. Bodied I did not expect one of my top three favorites of the year to debut out of YouTube Premium, but hey here we are, and what an unstoppable freight train of a movie this is. I would describe it as Scott Pilgrim meets Battle Rap directed by music video legend Joseph Kahn. It is a brilliantly written and breakneck-paced comedy satirizing our modern media culture, taking no prisoners on commentary. And yet at the same time, it leaves on a morally ambiguous note, hopefully igniting future discussions on the use of language and offensiveness in terms of context, and what we can do to identify context versus actual offense. Of all of the films on my top 10, this is probably the one I’ve revisited the most, showing different groups of people this film not only for their entertainment, but also to gain their perspective on what the film is trying to present. If you haven’t jumped the gun on a YouTube Premium free trial yet, this film is worth doing so. 2. Hereditary If Bodied is the film I went back to the most, Hereditary is one that would be the most difficult for me to revisit. A24 has been distributing and producing quality horror films for quite a few years now. I’ve greatly watched many of them and a few of them have appeared on my top 10 lists of years past, but none of them left me quite as emotionally broken as Hereditary . The film’s portrayal of horror through imagery, writing, suspense, and sound, is so visceral and raw that it almost became too much to handle at points, constantly reminding me to breathe in the theater. But these scares would not be as effective if I didn’t care about the story, and thankfully, Hereditary builds an absorbing family drama with themes of grief, guilt, neglect, and mental deterioration on top, rounding out to an all-time modern horror classic, and it is one that has stuck with me since I’ve seen it, and I guarantee it will not leave my head for a long time. #ToniColetteforOscar. You can hear more detailed thoughts on this film on the Hot Takes episode I’m on here . 1. Mandy Of course it’s Mandy . It had to be Mandy . Mandy is a very special one. I could print out every frame of this film and hang it on a wall it’s so beautiful. How do you make a chainsaw battle so artful? There’s really nothing like Mandy . I could try to make appropriate comparisons, but I always end up coming up short. I guess the closest it would be is 2001: A Space Odyssey meets Hobo with a Shotgun . Otherwise, it’s a truly unique cinematic experience. I was in awe. That’s all I can really say about it without going into spoilers, and you should definitely go into this film knowing as little as possible. Seriously! Go watch it. My list is done. You can go do something else now, preferably watch Mandy . It’s on Shudder! See it on the biggest screen you possibly can and take it all in. It’s just so terrific. Fuck man. I think I’m gonna go watch it again myself. Thank you for reading! Jeremy Kolodziejski Jeremy is younger than he looks, and has passionately studied the art and craft of filmmaking for as long as he can remember. He is currently a freelance wedding videographer, and is also heavily involved in Competitive Fighting Games. IG: jeremyko95 #Newsletter #Article #Bestof2018 #JeremyKolodziejski #HaveaNiceDay #YouWereNeverReallyHere #TheBalladofBusterScruggs #SpiderMan #IntotheSpiderVerse #SorrytoBotherYou #Annihilation #Revenge #Bodied #Hereditary #Mandy

2019 was full of plenty of great movies that I really loved, but none left such a deep impression, such a burning fissure on my brain as the hellish digital nightmare that is Thomas Hooper’s CATS . I truly, deeply disliked watching this movie. I counted down every second until the end of its punishing 110 minutes runtime. I even closed my eyes at one point, desperately trying to force myself to sleep as an escape. And yet, now that I have gazed upon the cosmic horror of this criminal film, I can’t shake it from my mind. When I close my eyes, I’m haunted by the ghastly visage of Macavity’s nude cat body. The yowling siren song of Mister Mistoffelees is seared into my brain through its ceaseless repetition. I’m beginning to concern my wife; as I lay awake babbling on about the Jellicle cats, with their Jellicle lives, their Jellice songs, their Jellicle woes, it’s as if I’ve been infected with toxoplasma gondii, the brain parasite contracted through contact with cat feces that causes its victims to become mentally unwell. Please, please, someone help me. Anyway, here are ten other movies that I really liked in 2019! 10. TIE: Braid/Hagazussa I spent a long time, probably too long (sorry, Bernadette) deliberating between Braid and Hagazussa for the tenth spot on my list. Ultimately, I decided I’d rather represent them both on my list because I think they share a lot in common, and they both deserve more attention. Both are first time features from young writers/directors. Both have striking and unique visual styles. Both are tales that warp and mutate as they go along, leading to ultimately surreal conclusions. Both are among the most fascinating and impressive horror films I’ve seen in recent years. I encourage anyone interested in modern horror to check these two films out. 9. Shadow Shadow features the most striking visuals I’ve seen all year. The film’s palette consists of inky blacks and bright whites, occasionally disrupted by a splatter of crimson. Upon these striking colors are beautifully choreographed fight scenes that are often more akin to ballet than to martial arts. Shadow’s dramatic, slow-motion set pieces use rain in an exceptionally clever way that further accentuates its visual flair. Couple that with a thrilling, twisty story and you’ve got yourself one hell of a great martial arts movie. 8. Midsommar Ari Aster had a lot to prove in his follow up to the excellent Hereditary . With Midsommar , he shows that he has a knack for much more than straightforward horror. I loved Midsommar’s inversion of the traditional horror lighting and palette, trading shows and deep colors for broad daylight and bright pastels. As a thematic piece, Midsommar deftly incorporates its ideas of grief, loneliness, healing and acceptance into the unsettling horrors it portrays. The arcs of its characters are well defined and fully fleshed out, which is too often underutilized in horror. It also manages to portray psychedelics in an accurate and non-embarrassing way, which deserves to be commended. 7. Uncut Gems The Safdie Brothers have an uncanny ability to create frantic, manic energy in film. Uncut Gems has such raw aggression and momentum that I nearly sprinted out of the theater to start a crime spree. Sandler is absolutely on fire throughout the film, expertly carrying the weight of every increasingly anxiety-inducing moment on his shoulders. On paper, this sounds like it would be a deeply unpleasant thing to watch. And while it is certainly abrasive, the Safdie's manage to achieve all of this tension in such a gripping way that the film is infectious and undeniable. 6. Parasite The hype around Parasite feels like it has hit critical mass. The discourse surrounding it has gone on seemingly all year, with even the clueless elites it so blatantly criticizes showering it in praise. Parasite has become so unanimously loved, that it almost came as no surprise when it racked up a ton of Oscar nominations, which is a paradox, really. It’s a miracle that such a fresh, engaging, and truly deserving movie is actually getting the widespread recognition it deserves. The true power of Parasite is that it’s such a nuanced and contemplative exploration of class and capitalism, fully integrated into an endlessly entertaining movie that is simultaneously funny, thrilling, terrifying, and moving. Parasite really does have it all, and it deserves every last bit of recognition it receives. I love every movie on this list, but Parasite is probably the only one I would recommend to just about everyone. 5. The Irishman While I’ve always held a deep respect and appreciation for his work, Martin Scorsese’s movies have never been among my favorites. The mob crime drama genre has never really been my thing. Which is why The Irishman took me by such surprise. Sure, there’s still a healthy amount of super Italian mob gusto at play here, and much of that doesn’t really hit me. What did strike me, though, is how much of The Irishman is a solemn and melancholy reflection on loyalty, friendship, and regret. De Niro’s portrayal of Frank Sheeran, a man whose dedication to following orders ultimately leaves him with nothing but a lonely emptiness, absolutely devastated me. A lifetime of craft is on display here, as Scorsese’s mastery of pacing, lighting, and composition makes for one of the most impeccably well made films of 2019. In a way, The Irishman feels like a culmination of masters at work. 4. The Art of Self-Defense The Art of Self-Defense is no doubt the funniest movie I saw in 2019. Riley Stearns’ bone dry comedy about a mild-mannered man finding confidence through martial arts, had me laughing out loud throughout. It’s a bleak and absurd dark comedy that explores toxic masculinity through a killer lead performance by Jesse Eisenberg, and a surprisingly excellent support lead from Alessandro Nivola. My own time practicing martial arts contributed to a lot of my enjoyment of this one, although it was fortunately a much different experience. Either way, the combo of dark absurdist comedy and the familiar dojo setting hit me in exactly the right nostalgic sweet spot. 3. Honey Boy From Even Stevens to his reckless days in avant-garde art installations, to his recent fascinating interview on Hot Ones , Shia LaBeouf has always felt more like an enigmatic character than a traditional actor. Honey Boy is an unflinchingly earnest movie that instantly made everything about that character click, and revealed the deeply flawed and genuine human underneath. I won’t lie to you, dear reader, this movie left me a bleary-eyed weeping mess. Without any context: Alma Har’el’s Honey Boy is a beautiful movie with knockout performances by Noah Jupe, Lucas Hedges and Shia LaBeouf. With the added knowledge that LaBeouf wrote the script while attending court ordered rehab as a way to work through the trauma of his own childhood, Honey Boy is a fearless and truly special film. 2. The Lighthouse The Lighthouse wins the award for “Most Entirely My Shit” movie of 2019. It’s no secret that I’m borderline obsessed with Robert Egger’s first film, The VVitch , and so it’d be an understatement that I was counting down the days until I could see his follow up. It easily met all of my expectations and more. While I think The VVitch may have been misrepresented by its marketing, The Lighthouse has always worn its weirdo badge right on its sleeve. The simple premise of two men stranded together in a lighthouse is a perfect backdrop for my two favorite performances of the year. As Willem Dafoe and Robert Pattinson’s characters descend deeper into madness, the atmospheric dread Eggers is so adept at achieving congeals and thickens like a dense fog. The production design is likewise expectedly flawless, and Egger’s trademark attention to historic detail creates a setting that feels both textured and distinct, while dreamlike and surreal. This is one film I’ll no doubt be coming back to again and again. 1. High Life It’s not lost on me that my top two favorite movies of 2019 both prominently feature Robert Pattinson ejaculating. I’m pretty sure that’s just a coincidence. My love for The Lighthouse was more or less a given from the start. High Life , on the other hand, totally took me by surprise. I watched this one way back at the start of the year, and it has stuck with me ever since. I distinctly remember the sense of awe I felt as the credits rolled, a sense that lingered on for days. It’s the kind of film that gets under your skin and stays there. Claire Denis has created a brutal, cold take on a sci-fi space thriller. Her vision of a dystopian near future explores the grim and inhuman darkness of the prison-industrial complex. And yet, there is a warmth in the void of this darkness, thanks to Pattinson's role as an unwitting surrogate father. It all culminates in a magical ending that sent me plunging into the deep rabbit hole of black hole Youtube videos and Wikipedia entries. That’s the kind of film that doesn’t come around very often, and it’s why High Life is easily my favorite film of the year. Jack Kolodziejski Co-Head of Podcasting Jack makes drugs for a living, but not necessarily the fun kind. He enjoys international travel and discussing music, movies, and games in excruciating detail. #Newsletter #Bestof #2019 #Bestof2019 #Top10 #JackKolodziejski #Articles

All throughout November and December, Story Screen is giving thanks to those cinematic stories that have always been there for us – whether through film, TV or even specific persons (on, behind or in front of the silver screen). These are the works we cannot help but appreciate, the ones that molded us, guided us, and stuck with us through good times and bad. These are the ones that deserve our personal thanks. Henry: You were ordered to stand down! Hawkeye: I did, but I fell up again. From Ep 29: Dr. Pierce and Mr. Hyde Thank you, M*A*S*H . When the good folks at Story Screen asked their contributors what movies or TV shows we’re thankful for, I knew immediately that you were my first and most important answer. It's your television persona that I'm addressing today, M*A*S*H . Although I'm a great fan of your cinematic side, as well, (in the form of your 1970 war film precursor); however, it's your small-screen incarnation that imprinted on me at a young age in so profound a way, that you feel like part of my DNA to this very day. So, if you'll indulge me, M*A*S*H , I'd like to share a bit about why I'm so thankful for you. “There are certain rules about a war. Rule number one is: young men die. And rule number two is: doctors can't change rule number one.” From Ep. 17: Sometimes You Hear the Bullet M*A*S*H , I don't know exactly how old I was when I first came across you. I do remember my first episode, “The Moon is Not Blue,” an unenthusiastic and lackluster offering from your weary, half-hearted, final season. I must have liked it enough to keep watching, because I quickly became obsessed. And when I say obsessed, I mean really obsessed. I recorded every episode that aired on VHS tapes, experiencing your many distinct eras out of order and without context. I acquired a book listing every episode with synopses, and eventually I determined I'd seen 250 of your 251 episodes. The one I'd missed? “Major Topper,” which never seemed to air. When it was finally released on DVD, I discovered why: it wasn't very good. That tended to happen a lot with you M*A*S*H . I think we both know “Major Topper” was hardly your worst. That's okay, I have always forgiven you; even the best of us have our flaws. Speaking of which, you were never exactly low-key about your opinions, M*A*S*H . You were nothing if not outspoken… sometimes, perhaps a bit too much so. I was a sheltered kid with a difficult upbringing, and I needed some guidance when it came to my own developing belief system. Your reflexive absolutism may have given me naive ideals about right and wrong, but you also planted the seeds of my liberalism, feminism, and compassion. Watching anger, outrage and fear, molded into a stubborn moral code on-screen, gave me a sense of what it meant to be honorable and decent. The residents of the 4077th epitomized respect for life and a wild irreverence in the face of brutality, and I emulated those qualities jealously. An awareness that laughter, decency and beauty can persevere in the darkest of circumstances, very likely saved my life, and that awareness, came at least in part, from you. "Anger turned inwards is depression. Anger turned sideways is Hawkeye." From Ep 7: Dear Sigmund M*A*S*H , your restless iconoclastic discontent with your own narrative form has shaped my tastes in arts and entertainment. Is it any wonder that I am drawn to deconstruction, to subversion of form, when from the beginning, you couldn't tolerate your own mold? From writer Larry Gelbart’s desire to use no laugh track, (“Just like the real Korean War”), to heartbreaking moments of agonizing tragedy, you were never destined to live and die a hijinks-at-the-front sitcom. Your later experimentation with form as in “Dreams,” “Point of View,” “The Interview,” and much more, revolutionized television in ways still felt today. You affected me in oddball ways too, M*A*S*H . My obsessive viewership when I was young, led me to observations about the layout of your set. The arrangement of the tents differed between the soundstage and the exterior location, which again, differed from the aerial footage in the opening credits sequence. I began drawing blueprints based on hours spent squinting at grainy paused VHS frames. Since then, I've loved blueprints, and I habitually seek a spatial understanding of recurring sets on television shows I watch. Strange, I know. It's your fault, M*A*S*H . Much time during the last half-decade of my life has been devoted to the creation (and consumption) of craft cocktails. My first and most enduring love in the world of imbibing? A gin martini. Although I no longer prefer them so, I first drank them the way Hawkeye did: “A very dry, arid, barren, desiccated, veritable dustbowl of a martini.” My tastes may have changed, but as I write this while sipping a drop of Uncle Val’s Botanical, I'm reminded of another quote from that mad wordsmith Hawkeye, “I have lapped, sipped, and taken gin intravenously, but I have never swilled.” Thank you, M*A*S*H , for all of the above, and for more, but for nothing so much as for this: thank you for the late nights, the nights when the soft strums and slow fade-in of your opening sequence promised solace. Through insomnia, loneliness, heartbreak and depression, you have been there for me. In times of great bounty or of devastating loss, I had you. You've always been a good friend to me, M*A*S*H , even with your flaws, (yes, I even forgive you for “Major Fred C. Dobbs”). I would not be the person that I am, (even with my flaws), without you. To quote BJ Hunnicut in your final moments, “I don't know what this place would have been like if I hadn't found you here.” Thank you, M*A*S*H , and Happy Thanksgiving. Edward Gibbons-Brown (Sometimes) a theatrical director/actor/producer and writer, and (mostly) a bartender and New Beaconite often found in semi-aimless wander, Edward is pleased and honored to contribute this piece to the most excellent Story Screen. #Newsletter #Articles #StoryScreenThanks #MASH #TV #EdwardGibbonsBrown #November2017