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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 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…
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. Not those obligatory mundane exchanges,…