When planetary disaster strikes the planet, one turns to country-music for solace. The song in question was written by Grammy-nominated country music singer Sturgill Simpson and keeps making a comeback throughout “The Dead Don’t Die,” the new Jim Jarmusch film which opened the 2019 Cannes Film Festival. The song, which shows up repeatedly in dialogues, on a CD that changes hands, is a mantra, something for
THIS JUST IN: “The Dead Don’t Die” will open this year’s Cannes Festival (April 10th, 2019). After the dead rise from their graves, the tranquil town of Centerville has no choice but to battle the hordes of zombies come threaten their way of life. "The dead don't die" was written and directed by Jim Jarmusch, produced by Joshua Astrachan and Carter Logan and produced by Animal Kingdom (they produced Jarmusch's previous film, 2016's "Patterson").
It was just announced that Bill Murray will reunite with […]
Wes Anderson’s "The Grand Budapest Hotel" is the cinematic equivalent of a pastry: beautiful, exquisitely-crafted and so immensely enjoyable that it seems too good to be real. Part-homage to pre-World War II Europe, part-tribute to memory and the passage of time and part-ridiculous slapstick, "The Grand Budapest"'s greatest achievement is not in its visual perfection but its literary sensibility. It’s what would
“Hyde Park on Hudson” wastes no time in letting us know it’s a prestige project. This is a film that takes place in a beautiful location (the New York estate of Franklin Roosevelt’s mother with its sunny view of nature, including a driving path among the flowers), has Laura Linney, as Roosevelt’s cousin Daisy, constantly butt into the film with a pretentious voiceover narration letting us know how important everything is, and has
Wes Anderson’s "Moonrise Kingdom" is not only a story of the power of first love but also the way that children create the mythology of adulthood through the fabric of stories. The world approaches us first wrapped as tales, and we handle its mysteries with imagination. The largest part of reality, even as we age, remains a contradictory act of abstraction. This has been a quietly placed theme in the films of Terrence Malick, including
Francis Ford Coppola and his daughter Sofia at the Cannes […]
In "Delirium," one of the shorts in Jim Jarmush’s “Coffee and Cigarettes” (2003) GZA and RZA, two members from the rap group Wu-Tang are sitting at a table in a diner, presumably late at night in some place urbanized and dreary—the entire film, in fact, seems to exist against a similar backdrop. GZA proclaims the benefits of drinking tea and avoidance of coffee and goes into an edifying rant about virtuous living, in a way-of-the-samurai-style lingo. For those who know a little about Staten-Island-based Wu-Tang, a spiritually-rich existence plied with copious amounts of martial arts is the sort of life they seek. Director Jarmush, who’s had close associations with Wu-Tang (he previously wrote and directed Ghost Dog (1999) with RZA on soundtrack duties; the narrative of Ghost Dog is peppered with references to Wu-Tang trivia, in fact) gives both men the leeway to contend for themselves.