Ava DuVernay's A Wrinkle in Time was slammed by the critics, well, the critics are WRONG. The Filmcast crew really dug it, and we spend this episode talking about that movie and other times the critics got it wrong on this episode of the Drunk Monkeys Radio Filmcast.
An old tagline for the website you’re visiting was “leave you snark at the doorstep”, and I can give you no better advice in approaching Ava DuVernay’s A Wrinkle in Time. DuVernay and Disney give the classic children’s novel a modern polish, and shift the book’s heavily Christian imagery into a more, let’s say, “Oprah-esque” spirituality (it helps to have a 50-foot version of Winfrey hanging around). It’s far from a perfect film, but something does not have to be perfect to be beautiful, which, in case you're not paying attention, is the message the movie is offering you.
If you have ever stood in front of a painting hoping you could step into that world, you now can. The world’s first fully oil - painted movie, Loving Vincent (Van Gogh) allows us to inhabit this world in his chosen medium. Through flashbacks, Van Gogh's contemporaries and painted subjects come to terms with their personal responsibility in his life and somewhat mysterious death. Van Gogh’s life was passionate but distorted both emotionally and by his perception of light and color. At the end, we can ask ourselves if would we have treated Vincent any differently.
I would tell you not to go see this movie, which is a very disappointing and unnecessary sequel to a very amazing original film, but by the time you read this it probably won't be in theaters anymore. The only thing saving it from an F is the pool scene and that's only because of the use of a Jim steinman song. Don't waste your money. Not even worth 100 words to be honest.
Writer/director Cory Finley's impressive debut strikes me as an exploitation film in search of a soul. But that's a good thing. His script and direction perfectly mimic the sociopathic tendencies of his lead characters, who are portrayed precisely by Anya Taylor-Joy and Olivia Cooke, respectively. Anton Yelchin also joins in on the fun in full scene-stealing mode, as he did so often. Thoroughbreds is being compared to other films, but Finley's style doesn't strike me as derivative; especially when it comes to his pitch-black sense of humor and his wonderful use of short-sided cinematography. For better or worse, this 28-year old playwright could be our next Martin McDonagh.
Hannah Cohen’s Bad Anatomy puts its viscera on the table—this is today’s chapbook for punk rock girls, pulling the reader through starlight, road trips, and the gynecologist’s office. Cohen’s concise lyrical precision is a poet wielding a rusty scalpel as she imagines she is a television, finds herself down a gory Google rabbit hole, and menstruates for the loss of the America we’d hoped for. As she says in Sad Girl’s Drinking Ghazal she “[likes] things both false and true.” And such are these poems: Stories that have gathered here to eat you whole and fill you up.
Aharon put down his gun and walked towards her. He put his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes, trying to convince her to carry on. This is justice, he thought, and he wondered how to help Ariel see it as she should.
PODCASTOrdinary GraceAlex Schumacher
A podcast on spirituality & religion, hosted by the Founding Editor of Drunk Monkeys. This episode features an interview with Alex Schumacher, independent comics artist, and creator of the comic strip Mr. Butterchips. Alex speaks about his Jewish upbringing, falling away from the faith, and the spirituality inherent in the creative process.
I am missing you something fierce in these
greenfields & oil fields & fields of scary love I do not like.
I tell Ghost Dad I’m moving out
on him, and he shatters like a saucer
I didn’t quit acting because of a bad director, bad experience, found the career to be useless or self-indulgent. I quit because of an eating disorder.
When I kissed her foot there
in the dark in the tent I never wanted
that feeling to end I wanted nothing more
At its peak I am confident. I’m attractive. I’m funny. I sparkle and dazzle. Everyone likes me at the peak. Everything is possible at the peak.
You’d share your pockets in the cold
when I was too headstrong to go back
inside and grab a jacket, and I’d laugh
Marianne had walked in front of the store every day for years. But only when her husband left her, only when she came home to find his closet empty, did she press her face to the glass.
Any given day I might be on my stomach trying to run an illegal cable line from the roof of a housing complex. And while the tenant holds my legs, he or she might engage me in a conversation about couples counseling or old dog adoption.
I remember what you are—scab, totem,
juniper on the side of this house. do you make me
kind? would you like to reach between my doors—
lurid as a milksnake?
COMICSMr. ButterchipsAlex Schumacher
Mr. Butterchips takes on gun nuts in Alex Schumacher's latest strip.
I catch coldness here, I hold the glitter. can we agree
to forget this? forget last night with my cocktail, my
caring so much for so little in my hand? today, I awaken
how it loves its own silky skin, goes mad
for the taste of its own salt-blood.