Skinamarink (2023) - Movie Review

A while back, I reviewed David Lowery’s A Ghost Story. It was an odd one to sort out my opinion for, as there was a clear artistic vision to it, one that was ideal for the story being told, and it showed real creativity in unexpected ways. And yet I didn’t like it. For as much credit as I could give it as one of the more daring films I saw that year, that wasn’t enough to cover up how much it bored me silly. If nothing else, I’d at least point to my write-up for it as proof that I am fair with the films I review, even if I didn’t enjoy them personally.

I find myself in a similar position when looking at this film, which went viral late last year and finally made it onto streaming near the start of this one. It is emphatically unlike any other horror film I’ve ever watched before, and likely to stand out from any of them that I watch after. Like A Ghost Story, there is a clear artistic vision here, and a story that suits it perfectly, and it twists cinematic conventions in interesting ways. Also like A Ghost Story, I still struggled to stay engaged for its entirety in spite of all that.

Mad God (2022) - Movie Review

 

Those who don’t follow the names of people attached to films as obsessively as I do may not be familiar with the name Phil Tippett, but chances are you are at least familiar with his work already. Star Wars, Jurassic Park, RoboCop, Willow, Starship Troopers, the birthing scene in Twilight: Breaking Dawn Part 1; when it comes to the art of stop-motion animation and visuals effects in general, he is one of the masters. And over the past thirty years, he has been gradually working on the film that would be his magnum opus. An 83-minute stop-motion film which he would direct, write, produce, and of course, lovingly craft everything on the screen. And in June of this year, this work finally found public release on home of streamed horror Shudder, and holy shit, is this a film that needs to be seen.

Moonage Daydream (2022) - Movie Review

Like with any other genre, documentaries tend to stick to a formula, especially biographical ones: Go through the subject’s life in chronological order, from childhood to the early days to their initial brush with fame to their eventual solidification as someone worth making a documentary about. Include interviews with people revolving around that person, whether they knew them personally or looked up to them as a fan, show some behind-the-scenes footage of the person hard at work in their field of choice, maybe throw in some historical context to bring out the real worth of their efforts in the larger scheme of things; chances are you’ve seen something just like that at least once before.

Moonage Daydream isn’t a typical documentary. Coming from Brett Morgen, the mastermind behind Kurt Cobain: Montage Of Heck, it’d be a shock if it were. In fact, when Morgen offers up is so atypical, I’d almost question if this really qualifies as a ‘documentary’ in the strictest definition. While it most certainly offers a look into the life and works of David Bowie, this is more focused on aesthetics than historical documents. Mood rather than facts. It bends the conventions of film around its subject, rather than cutting the latter up to conform to the former. And in the result of this Technicolor smog cloud, Morgen offers up something that offers a far better understanding of Bowie than a simpler documentary would ever be able to grasp at.