Netflix and Beyond

“Revenge is best served cold”; two prime protagonists, serving vigilante reparation after the death of loved ones; Mads Mikkelsen stars as “Markus” a frigid, calculating Afghani soldier, returning to Denmark to avenge the death of his wife, killed in a horrific train accident; Mikkelsen’s deliciously terrifying performance anchors this sublimely well-written (writer/director Anders Thomas Jensen) scintillating scenario; beautifully balanced, “Riders ... Read More »

Explosively staggering, Philip Glass’s brilliant exegesis of Mahatma Gandhi’s (1869-1948) flowering as a pacifist, exponent of truth and non-violence is profoundly depicted by the Metropolitan Opera (original, premiered in 1980); Glass infuses “Satyagraha” with a blend of historical impacts on Mahatma’s (“great-souled”) youth, commencing with Russian author Leo Tolstoy (1828-1910), his philosophy of “Bread Labour”, and the value of “simplicity ... Read More »

“Limbo” in Catholicism, is a bubble where souls of the unbaptized, hibernate until permission is granted to enter the celestial realm; in this scenario, it is a young Syrian refugee longing for permanent asylum on a sparsely populated Scottish island, where he, amongst other exiled, is waiting for the metaphorical gates to open. Director Ben Sharrock with irony and humor ... Read More »

Artists are perpetually striving to portray the innovative within their own discipline: paint, marble, bronze have been substituted, traded for contemporary mediums: digitalization, interactive technology ignites unprecedented techniques; parameters of “what is art” are swelling; “The Man Who Sold His Skin” with remarkable depth focuses on Syrian refugee “Sam Ali” (spunky Yahya Mahayni) escaping to Beirut and selling his back ... Read More »

There was a strange spirituality, almost a reckoning, comparable to exiting a bomb shelter and checking the remains, revealing the hereafter; a ghostly specter of another era permeated the evening; a staged, glitzy Gotham, populated by ideal mannequins, a purified zone of equality and perfection.  Gone were the “hosts” with their self-deprecating, stale schtick, guffaws and unintended slights; winners, given ... Read More »

With a plethora of options I have become cavalier when investing time in front of my mini movie screen; if it doesn’t look good or kidnap my attention within the first ten minutes, I make a speedy exit, with no regrets. Here are a few that kept me binging well into the wee hours: “Shtisel” (Hebrew: English Subtitles) (Netflix). The ... Read More »

During the Pandemic Plague filmic buffs have had to improvise in their investment and outlook as to viewing options: gone is the sanctity of the silenced, darkened, behemoth movie house, programed timing between features, bathroom and refueling stations; most missed, is the intimacy of the experience: “date nights”, secretive squeezes, muffled comments, irritated shushes; welcome laceration, cauterization, from monotonous minutiae of daily regimens, in other words the prestige, eminence, partnership with the theatre is erased. No longer lusting, anticipating Friday ... Read More »

Ernest Hemmingway (1899-1961) was a man, a writer who has informed all who seek edification, beauty, comfort, solace in the written word; binging on his every published manuscript, shedding rivers of tears, shattered by the poignancy of brutality, destructiveness of emotional stability; his soul splayed upon the page, without bias, pretense, he sought from an unfathomable depth the meaning of ... Read More »

Unless it’s a classic, movies made before 2000, rarely tweak my interest, or a revisit; “The Ice House” directed by Tim Fywell, starring a youthful, heavily-accented Daniel Craig, was a worthy exception; Craig, as “Detective McLoughlin”, cynically sour, cagily perceptive, tries to solve a marvelous mystery of a withered corpse (found in a dilapidated, long disregarded ice house) a missing, ... Read More »

In spite of Rapunzel tresses, Michelle Pfeiffer is a remarkably gorgeous woman and credible actor; that is the single most redeeming factor in director Azazel Jacobs’s feckless film; aimlessly transparent: “Frances” (Pfeiffer) whose only attribute is that she married well and with nary a speck of fiduciary acumen, flagrantly, sans accountability, has spent every cent, regardless of widowhood; after disbursement ... Read More »