Isn't there room in the '80s sex-comedy canon for comedies that let girls be just as goofy, hedonistic, and—perhaps most important—consequence-free as their dumb-fun boy counterparts? There is—it's just that it hasn't come out until now.
"Oh, I believe [Martin] played a huge role in his death.[...] When George confronted him, he could have walked away and gone home." —Juror B37, State of Florida vs George Zimmerman
Director Ryan Coogler's new filmFruitvale Station is everywhere. The small-budget drama about the life and death of 22-year-old Bay Area resident Oscar Grant has become a national hit and, while the film is a sensation, its beauty lies in the level of attention it pays to the life and setting that it captures. The film dwells on the details of Hayward, Oakland, the rumble of BART trains, a mother, a daughter, and the frustrations and concerns of a young man named Oscar Grant.
The statistics from the 2011 National Coalition of Anti-Violence Programs are grim. Trans people were almost two times as likely to experience injuries than cis people. Transgender people of color were 28 percent more likely to experience physical violence compared to people who were not transgender people of color. And people under 30 were the most likely to experience sexual and physical violence.
2011 was also the year that Shelley "Treasure" Hilliard was horrifically murdered in Detroit. Only 19 years old, Hilliard was an active member in Detroit's LGBTQ youth community, and her death shook the activists, family, and friends around her. But TransParent, a new film, is going beyond the statistics to share the story of Shelley, her mother, and the community around them.
Now boarding at Gate 39: director Pedro Almodóvar takes his audience on a giddy ride with a frivolous sex comedy, leveling out at cruising altitude for ecstatic silliness.
Almodovar's new film I'm So Excited! Is a brightly colored 60's style pop art farce set on an airplane that's full of troubled characters and has no way to land. Think Airplane! but with even more sex, drugs, and relationship jokes (yes, it's possible).
A teen girl waits inside a creepy, empty house with a knife. She knows the killer is outside and she knows he's coming to kill her next. Her friends are dead, her clothes have been ripped to shreds, she is covered in blood, and she is all alone in the deserted house. But she is ready. She waits, ready to avenge her friends and save her own life. She is the Final Girl.
I have so many thoughts on this film, and only maybe one of them is good. But I think we need to start off with this: The Lone Ranger is just a bad movie. It's 2.5 hours of a film with an identity crisis, not knowing if it's supposed to be funny, campy, dramatic, "authentic," or what. At points it was very hard to separate the stereotypical and hurtful from the bad script, bad editing, and bad character development of the movie itself.
The reviews of the recently released The Heat, the new film from Paul Feig (of Freaks and Geeks and Bridesmaids fame) about an arrogant New York FBI agent and a foul-mouthed Boston detective who are thrown together in pursuit of a shadowy drug kingpin, has pondered one question: Whither the female buddy comedy?
At one point in Disney's new The Lone Ranger, Tonto turns to his companion and describes a massacre against his people, "The rivers ran red with blood." Well, so will this review, because all I felt for a two hours and 29 minutes was anger.