they never could tell what was drawn from the well
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Picnic at Hanging Rock 1975
How did I not see it until now.
Albert and Sara are satellites orbiting the rock, a cosmic collision to pray for, a meeting without which the ending is made so much more tragic. I fucking hate it sometimes.
This whole world is a rock in my shoe.
We are all bound together in spite. Craggy crevices and voids that emanate and divide. All that is broken is irremediable. Orphanages are the saddest game of musical chairs. Hanging Rock’s titular…
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Stalker 1979
Since my first watch a few years ago, Stalker has become one of my favorite films. Before and since that first watch, I’ve had several life changes that included moving, getting a full time job, falling out with friends, among others, all in time with ideas that’ve been on my mind for years, making those events seem epochal or at least reconfigured by inner and outer circumstances. I was “in the zone,” both ostracized and stubbornly focused by circumstance. At…
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Stump the Guesser 2020
not his best but after rumours this is like a breath of fresh water. good ol' maddening kinetic shit and icky topics made funny. my prize is the wind-up moon.🌑
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Primal 2019
vital. take masashi tanaka's wordless lizard brained comic gon and split it between tartakovsky's previous love samurai jack's emotional nadirs and the maxx's slow burnt superflat painted introspection and you have this. the first season was and is something special, with the second introducing the worst episode of the season (it just has to involve british trophy hunters) before upswinging into a somewhat satisfying conclusion. the storytelling and creature creation is so good in s1 its hard to see why…
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Les Rallizes Dénudés 1992
Doing nothing to demystify the band, Ethan's "doc" gives no dates, titles or even personnel until the very end (only 9 of some thousand bass players were credited). Its mostly a trichromatic palette of varying grays, blacks and off-blues, with nauseating (OK by me) camera work, framing a lonesome stage, sometimes in front, sometimes behind, with very little audience interaction or reverence. The halogen fingerprints left by the myopic agenda of a single strobe are mostly what your eye follows…
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