New Yorker film critic Pauline Kael "wants you to unashamedly enjoy blood-spilling, cum-spraying, unapologetic trash," insists Ryan Suckling. "Not some dull, obscurely philosophical art film at Luna on SX."
When the first limp noodle appeared in the pocket of Charles’ trousers, he chose not to dwell on it, and said nothing. He was with friends and they were sitti...
When I was little I thought John Cole was some kind of alien. A large head on a long body, like in vintage comics. His thin yellow skin contrasted with his larg...
There is a particular solemn beauty about fleetingly meeting someone, and farewelling them, and realising that you will very likely never see each other again. ...
