Rock. My. Face. Off.

Some movies you anticipate as though you’re back at sixteen years of age, anticipating a life of collegiate debauchery. I mean, seriously. I mean, for real. I mean, holy fucking shit, “Spaaartaaans!” A lot of my contemporaries are weary of these kinds of films. They deconstruct the gleaming outcroppings of abdominal muscle on the sword-waving/spear-throwingContinue reading “Rock. My. Face. Off.”

Piny and I will have to agree to disagree

About most of Children of Men. The film is not necessarily a paean to parenthood and women’s often twisted role in it (piny’s thoughts regarding the fate of children and mothers in our own world are very spot-on nonetheless, please read them), I don’t think. I saw infertility as a mere catalyst for the monstrositiesContinue reading “Piny and I will have to agree to disagree”