A Seattle moviegoing lifestyle magazine
The old adage that the original is always better than the sequel certainly applies here. It wouldn’t be hyperbole to say that Joker: Folie à Deux is the most unpleasant experience I’ve had in a movie theater since SIFF decided to screen the (almost literally) nauseating The Greasy Strangler for press and passholders.
Tomorrow begins one of my favorite mini-festivals in Seattle: SIFF’s annual DocFest. It’s a week-long festival celebrating some of the best new-ish documentaries out there (and in true Seattle fashion, this week goes from Thursday to Thursday, so it is actually eight days long).
Sweetheart Deal is 98 minutes of tragedy and heartbreak but it also felt so vital and important to tell the stories of these women who suffer from so much abuse and marginalization. “Sex work is work” and “my body, my choice” are good, rhetorical, platitudes (that I believe) but they are also too vague to meaningfully represent anyone whose choice and autonomy are often taken out of the equation, often by situations far beyond their control.
I loved the expansive world-building Burton and his team put together. There were some cool visual effects and some running gags that were quite funny. I laughed hard whenever the late Charles Deetz was on screen. I also really liked the storyline between Winona Ryder and Jenna Ortega. Still, Beetlejuice Beetlejuice throws a lot of proverbial spaghetti at the proverbial wall and quite a bit of it sticks because a lot of it was thrown.
Deadpool & Wolverine is something else. It’s a big mess of a movie, much of it entertaining, much of it tiresome. It throws so much at the wall, some of it sticks. It probably will delight a lot of Marvel fans. And even by my standards, it contains a lot of dick jokes.
As I’m watching Fly Me to the Moon, the new ScarJo/Channing Tatum romcom, I imagined a bunch of hack-ish critics simultaneously thinking of how they’re going to fit “failure to launch” in their reviews. My prophecy was actualized. Still, the movie, while far from perfect, I quite enjoyed, much to my surprise.
There’s something remarkable about the opening scene of Copa 71. Brandi Chastain, hero of the winning American team of the 1991 Women’s World Cup, is given a tablet and shown footage of the 1971 Copa tournament, a massive women’s soccer competition in Mexico City two decades earlier than the first official FIFA Women’s World Cup. She had no idea it even existed. I suspect many other diehard women’s sports fans didn’t either (I certainly didn’t).
Part of the routine when attending preview screenings as a press member requires us to give a brief opinion after the movie to one of the PR representatives. The answer I gave after Argylle was “dumb but harmless.” A couple of days later, I still can’t think of anything better.
Cord Jefferson’s wildly entertaining, and biting, satire American Fiction will probably make any white person who has ever taken a selfie with a Toni Morrison or bell hooks book at least a little squeamish. This movie deals with race, identity, agency, who has control over their own stories. It’s an absorbing movie that never feels heavy handed and has one of the most memorable lead characters I’ve seen in quite a while.
When Seattle indie filmmaker Rose Kreider asked me to check out her 2022 debut film The Woman, I was thoroughly impressed. It …
