sexuality
Whether we like it or not, technology is becoming a larger part of our everyday lives, from the cell phones we carry to the laptops we work on. However, this trend has been ever-present in film, as long as science fiction has been on screen. Technological advances generally start as a method to improve human life but as soon as we design technology with a consciousness, that is when all hell breaks loose.
I recently had the pleasure of sitting down (via Skype) with director Deborah Kampmeier after a special preview screening of her newest film, SPLit. The film is premiering at the Sarasota Film Festival this year, so if you can go see it, get yourself down. Until you get the chance, check the trailer out here.
In 1971 a particularly interesting film bestowed with an X rating made its way to a limited release in New York City and Los Angeles. This film was not a commercial success. It was a film that was so “out there” some reviewers refused to even see it.
There has been a historical frequency in film for older men to be depicted in romantic relationships with younger, sometimes much younger, women. This article seeks to examine whether this propensity for older men to be paired with younger women on-screen can reveal something of mainstream cinema’s and, by extension, western culture’s attitudes towards older women, sex and romance. Might more contemporary examples featuring fresh approaches to the age gap be leading us down a new path, featuring a wider range of romantic perspectives?
A remake of the 1969 Italian-French film La Piscine and partly inspired by David Hockney’s ‘Swimming Pool’ painting, A Bigger Splash is the fourth feature film from Luca Guadagnino, and has already made significant waves with critics and audiences alike (sorry for the absolutely appropriate pun). Starring Tilda Swinton as rockstar Marianne recovering from throat surgery, and Matthias Schoenaerts as her ever-loving albeit boring boyfriend Paul, the two of them aim to escape life to an idyllic Italian island in the middle of the Mediterranean. No phones, no work, no interruptions.
Screwball comedy is a predominantly American film genre popularised during the Great Depression. The golden era of screwball comedy was the 1930s and early 1940s, with hundreds of films being produced and the genre fast becoming one of Hollywood’s most popular. However, from the mid 1940s, evolving circumstances saw it becoming increasingly obsolete, with true screwball comedies beyond the 1960s being few and far between.
Much attention has been drawn to Hollywood of late, and several condemnations of its practises issued. While the recent #OscarsSoWhite kerfuffle is certainly indicative of a problem, I think the real issue stretches beyond race only. As a colleague here has pointed out in a recent article, we aren’t all fooled.
Entering the world of an Agnès Varda film requires coming to terms with who she is as a filmmaker. She understood and explored the ways in which documentary and fiction are inextricably linked while generally eschewing linear narratives, working instead to show her own complex relationship with her films as she made them. Films like Jane B.
There aren’t many people who can claim that the woman they watched larking about on children’s morning television when they were a toddler also became of one of their favourite film directors as an adult. But that’s exactly what Andrea Arnold turned out to be, for me. For those of you who have never heard of her I can guarantee that you’ll be impressed.
We currently live in an age where the classic rom-com has become taboo. Jerry Maguire and When Harry Met Sally have been traded out for Trainwreck and now Sleeping with Other People. The problem with this new modern movement is that the emotional heart of the original 80s and 90s films are mostly lost.
In Britain we have only just heard of Amy Schumer. But even having seen none of her work and only the rare interview I knew I would love this lady, and when I spotted Trainwreck on the horizon I got very excited. Then, I backtracked.
I’m not now, nor have I ever been, a teenage girl. I’m not even a teenager anymore, and chances are if you’re in the UK and tried to see The Diary of a Teenage Girl, you won’t be either. Thanks, BBFC.
When Vêra Chytilová sadly passed away in March of last year, cinephiles across the world mourned the loss of a truly passionate and original filmmaker. Chytilová was the dangerous iconoclast of the Czech New Wave. Both the BFI and Second Run DVD decided that the world must know of her work outside of her nihilistic masterpiece Sedmikrasky (Daisies, 1966), and as such the BFI ran a series showing many of her films at their Southbank cinema, and Second Run released two of her films, Pasti, Pasti, Pasticky (Traps, 1998) and Fruit of Paradise (1970), on their excellent DVD line.
At the start of Andrew Bujalski’s latest film, Results, Danny (Kevin Corrigan) entreats his wife, Christine (Elizabeth Berridge), from the street below the open window of their New York apartment to let him back into the marital home. She closes the window, so he grabs its ledge in an attempt to pull himself up to and through the plate glass barrier. Danny, who carries Corrigan’s rosaceous, wan features, brittle hair, and generous paunch (sorry, Kevin), quickly drops to the ground.
Alex Garland’s Ex Machina reminds us that we are all just line workers in a baby-making factory. Mankind has evolved over time to have a very strong sex drive; a drive that reveals itself during the most seemingly insignificant events of our lives. At the grocery store buying yogurt?