The Children Act makes for an imbalanced cinematic stew, with ingredients whose disparate flavors blend into an insipid cinematic concoction.
The Children Act makes for an imbalanced cinematic stew, with ingredients whose disparate flavors blend into an insipid cinematic concoction.
They don’t make ‘em like they used to.
Continue reading “Up in the Dumps”
Immersive theatre is all the rage with the kids these days.
And now, it’s time for yet another piece of art with strong conceptual ideas hamstrung by inferior execution:
Conformist cultural commentators on the interwebs like to boast about how TV’s toppled film in recent years.
With seemingly the entire film industry having contracted the plague of sequelitis, why don’t these endless franchises preface each installment with “previously on” montages, the sort popularized during television’s serialization epoch?
Isn’t it a little too early in the year to be bitching about the Academy Awards?
The Royal Court’s not the only artistic entity that’s recently investigated the devastating consequences wrought from insidious toxic masculinity.
In addition to wrestling with how portions of Permission have lodged themselves in my psyche, inspiring me — through the sheer force of will that is artistic brilliance — to reevaluate my own (if I may say so myself, quite happy) relationship, I’m now also left wondering why the movie didn’t receive a proper theatrical release.