It was a strange choice for a summer blockbuster. A weepy film about a girl dying of thyroid cancer who meets her boyfriend in a support group and then travels to Amsterdam so she can meet the author she idolizes before experiencing the ultimate heartbreak.
“Those are the directors?” This question, delivered as a scoff, came from the man sitting behind me as the directors of the Etheria Film Night shorts program walked to the stage of Hollywood’s Egyptian theater for a Q&A.
If the glossy pages of my elementary school history books had told me stories like that of Grace Lee Boggs, I would have paid more attention. Like me, Boggs is Asian-American who was born to immigrant parents—if I’d learned her story growing up, I might have felt invested in our country’s history instead of feeling disenchanted by it.
When a screenwriter-turned-director snags numerous Oscar nods in one year alone, it’s not surprising that they'll try to sweep the Academy Awards with ambitious films again and again. But when that director is Paul Haggis—the white guy famous for his deeply problematic and dubiously dubbed“progressive” film on racism Crash (2004)—each continued effort is heartily dreaded. Haggis has had plenty more commercial success with films like Casino Royale and Quantum of Solace, but his latest attempt, Third Person, likely won’t even be able say that much.
When we first meet fresh-faced director Kate Logan in new documentary Kidnapped for Christ, she’s a budding Evangelical filmmaker from a Christian college heading to the Dominican Republic to document a school for at-risk American teens.
The new Melissa McCarthy movie has already been panned far and wide: There's a no-star review from the Washington Post ("a misbegotten movie that starts badly and ends worse"), a scathing assessment in Time ("In film schools of the future, professors will teach Tammy as an object lesson in Making Everything Go Wrong"), and a highbrow takedown from the New Yorker ("though I’m honor-bound to report that Tammy is not a very funny comedy, it’s worth adding that, in substance, it’s hardly a comedy at all"), among others.
If NYC single life actually resembled every bad rom-com ever, I’d be telling you about my ultimate meet-cute right now: me, a feminist media critic alone at the Brooklyn Academy of Music to review a movie for Bitch, him a handsome, witty stranger reading Naomi Klein's Shock Doctrine.
New film "Obvious Child" stars Jenny Slate as a 20-something in Brooklyn who gets an abortion.
One in three women in the US have an abortion in their lifetimes, while nearly 40 percent of Americans claim they do not know anyone who has had an abortion.
I left the latter group, not coincidentally, around the same time I joined the former. When I got pregnant as a 20-something in Brooklyn five years ago and started telling people I was getting an abortion, I quickly discovered I actually knew three women who’d had one.