Devotion and desolation are his themes.
His antics are merely the by-product of the tortured mangle that is his mind.
His films came from a planet called Baltimore.
Seventies soul, eloquent monsters, Talmudic etiquette-parsing, Samuel L. Jackson.
“SCHOOL DAZE sets race back 200 years.”
His films are pentagrams for the conjuration of narrative.
His is an unwieldy and rarely screened oeuvre.
“I have no desire to cuddle my audience.”
He was part of the bad old postmodernism, in a good way.
He was disillusioned by the materialism of modern Japan.
“Too much at stake: art, integrity, black power.”
Wondrous things pressing against the seams of the everyday…
Separation, and then the language of separation, were his subjects.
His cartoons ring a very specific important curdled cultural alarm bell.
Brilliance can be mistaken for mere profession-alism.
He unsettled movie genres even as he helped define them.
Visionary, Bolshevist, Paramount Pictures’ newest star.
Nocenti’s work stands out like Longshot’s weirdly glowing eye.
A repeating slideshow from a series of knee-high cameras.
Hurt Locker was very good — not always a prerequisite for Oscar-winners
Jules Verne on laudanum, and four other writers rolled into one.
When trash meets art.
He insisted that he was a poet, no matter what the medium.
German history, anti-normativity, and structuralism.