In Catching Fire, the normally unflappable Effie Trinket seems increasingly dismayed at her role as media handler.
The Hunger Games series is about a lot of things—growing up, violence, a boy with the same name as a delicious bread—but the new film, Catching Fire, has the feel of a political thriller.
While the first film the now-four-part (ugh) series focused a lot of its story on the action of the Hunger Games themselves and the life-and-death choices of each character, Catching Fire frames its story from beginning to end as a bigger, meatier critique of how governments use media to keep control.
Guinevere Turner first made a name for herself with her debut film, Go Fish, cowritten with director and then-girlfriend (although they broke up mid-shooting) Rose Troche. Turner went on to direct many short films, wrote for The L Word (and played the elusive heartbreaker Gabby Deveaux), not to mention cowriting the scripts of American Psychoand The Notorious Bettie Page.
Turner is now working on her feature length directorial debut with Creeps, a film about a chosen family of somewhat aimless twenty and thirty-something friends living in L.A. in the nineties. I had the privilege of interviewing Turner about Creeps, and the ongoing Indiegogo campaign to crowd-fund the project—it's over in four days!
The Hunger Games: Catching Fire, the second film from the Hunger Games adaptation, hits theaters nationwide this month. Given the film’s aggressive and elaborate marketing campaign, it’s pretty hard to miss.
So, when I saw the giant banner featuring Jennifer Lawrence as Katniss Everdeen plastered in a Hot Topic’s storefront, it didn’t surprise me one bit.
By the time it won the Palme d'Or at the Cannes Film Festival earlier this year, the French film Blue is the Warmest Color was well on its way to being one of the most highly praised—and most controversial—films of the year.
“I rarely meet people who tell me what they’re doing.”
When I was 13 years old, I received an award from my eighth grade teacher, in which she predicted my future career as a “comedy screenwriter.” At that time, I had no idea what a screenwriter was. I, of course knew it had to do with filmmaking, but that’s it. Growing up, I had no conception of writing or directing films. It was not a career that people around me talked about or pursued. Soon, that would all change.
Director Kim Peirce and the blood-soaked poster for her new film, the Carrie remake.
Filmmaker Kimberly Peirce is a crusader. Like the protagonist of her latest film, Carrie, Hollywood has failed to bully her around. She’s kept at the business and art she loves, despite being passed her over for major projects and has carved out her own success, taking the helm of unconventional films like Boys Don’t Cry and Stop Loss. During her long career, she’s also been an outspoken voice against censorship—as best seen in This Film is not yet Rated—and, in her free time, directed an episode of The L Word.
Peirce spoke with Bitch about her history with Carrie White, the appeal of revenge stories, mother-daughter relationships, and filmmaking while female.
For many kids of the nineties, Halloween film Hocus Pocus is a favorite: there are ghosts, black cats, Bette Midler, and a whole lot of virgin jokes. What more could you want? This year is Hocus Pocus’s 20th anniversary (yes you’re that old) and I rewatched the film, wondering how the movie I loved as a kid would hold up.
Slumber Party Massacre comes off as yet another sensationalistic and gory ‘80s slasher. I picked it up recently mainly due to its ridiculous title and the fact that most of the characters were female. Upon viewing it, what shocked me was not so much the gore and violence, but the film’s clever humor, the funny characters, and most of all the incredibly veiled feminist satire.
There's a scene in the original Carrie that made me tear up the first time I saw it, at age 12 or so. It's not one of the movie's famous scare scenes—not the ones at the prom, not the pants-peeingly unexpected shock ending, not even the senseless murder of a pig—but it's one that resonated for being profoundly upsetting in an entirely different way.