‘Never Rarely Sometimes Always’ review: visually sublime abortion drama is one of 2020’s most compelling movies
The debate around reproductive rights in America has raged for decades. Last year, several US states passed new laws which human rights watchdog Amnesty International claims “effectively ban abortion”. As a result, writer-director Eliza Hittman’s Never Rarely Sometimes Always, which follows a 17-year-old’s harrowing, soul-sapping attempt to terminate a pregnancy in New York City, feels even m...
The history of queer activism is entwined with the history of queer identities and lives. Those within the queer community have been born into opposition against the heterosexual mainstream: to live openly as a queer person in itself has historically constituted a revolutionary act.
There’s one particular scene which springs to mind when I think of William Friedkin’s Cruising. It has nothing to do with scandalous, psychosexual murder; there’s a whole lot of blood rising, but it’s not being spilled. The sense evoked isn’t one of excruciation, but of ecstasy.
In February 2017, authorities in Chechnya -- a republic of Russia located in the North Caucasus -- arrested a man they suspected to be under the influence of a controlled substance. As is procedure, they searched his phone. According to a report from the Human Rights Watch, they found “explicit material” (most likely shared nude photos and gay pornography), and the contact details of dozens of gay men. This triggered the most vicious example of a direct, state-sanctioned anti-gay genocide since the Second World War.
With streaming figures for 'Contagion' and Netflix's 'Pandemic' going through the roof, we asked experts to unpack the reasons why we're flocking to films that mirror our own potential fate.
When it comes to the recent on-screen documentation of queer politics and activism, no one has established their credentials better than David France, the former editor of Newsweek who segued into filmmaking after decades of work as an investigative journalist.
Berlin Review: ‘First Cow,’ Kelly Reichardt returns to Oregon for a ruminative tale of the American Frontier
“The bird a nest, the spider a web, man friendship”: A famous proverb from the pen of Romanticist poet William Blake. His philosophical implication here, broadly speaking, is that friendship is as vital to man as basic shelter is to beasts and bugs. Houses may be formed of bricks and mortar, and shelter of sticks and silk; but ‘home’ is a uniquely human principle, denoted by brotherhood and mutual love.
Trying to give camp a straightforward definition defies the entire point of what camp is. Camp is bent. It can be self-aware, and not self-aware in the slightest; it is both Drag Race’s Sharon Needles and Sharon Watts from EastEnders. What unites all cultures of camp is their relationship to ridiculous and the overtly theatrical, an active rejection of tastefulness. As Susan Sontag put it in her seminal, heavily cited essay Notes on ‘Camp’, “the essence of Camp is its love of the unnatural: of artifice and exaggeration.”
Cruising, the controversial Al Pacino film about New York's leather scene, is 40 years old this week. But, thanks to an incensed group of queer people, it was almost never made.
On May 9th 1988, at an ACT UP demonstration in Albany, New York, queer film critic and AIDS activist Vito Russo delivered his "Why We Fight" speech – an explosive statement of defiance on behalf of the AIDS-affected community; an insistence that they would not stop fighting for their lives.
Norman René’s compassionate opus remains the only theatrically released film to accurately reflect the epidemic’s impact.
‘My Salinger Year’: Margaret Qualley & Sigourney Weaver Delight In This Twee, Feel-Good Drama [Berlin Review]
All creatives, at one point or another, have been confronted with a particularly frustrating nuisance: The need to survive. The unique frustration spurred from this is predominantly born, of course, out of the fact that the creative passions—poetry, storytelling, filmmaking—seem almost impossible to monetize until one makes it to the glittering heights stardom and success.
Anticipation for “Undine” has been palpable on the lead-in to the 70th Berlinale, being Christian Petzold’s sixth feature to be seen at the festival—particularly off the back of last year’s acclaimed “Transit,” which competed for the Golden Bear. And it appears this anticipation has broadly been justified. While “Undine” is initially rather languid, it soon becomes a fascinating and very gorgeously realized thing to behold.
Abel Ferrara attempts to understand the complexities of man with “Siberia,” a study of interweaving dualities—some complex and challenging, some less so—such as day and night, the tundra and the desert, and, at an astonishingly superficial level, the difference between right and wrong. His philosophical conversations maunder, varying wildly in complexity—yet some moments of “Siberia” capture authentic tragedy, grief, and pathos.
‘Last And First Men’: Jóhann Jóhannsson’s Directorial Debut Is An Awe-Inspiring Experience [Berlin Review]
There are few shots in the pantheon of cinema as iconic as that of the Monolith in “2001: A Space Odyssey.” It’s a haunting image that, combined with its shrill score—a whirlwind of strings and wails, tearing away at your very soul—breaks you into vulnerability. In the Monolith lies the universe: To look at it is to witness both the swathing cosmos and the birth of humankind.