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Maybe the best series of impressions I've ever seen.

(What? Me, bitter?)

Forty-four days, babyyyyy

Goes without saying but the level of technical advancement in this thing is insane. Closest a game has ever gotten to photoreal people.

"This trend of slow, melancholy covers of upbeat hits really needs to die."

*stumbles upon this Phoebe Bridgers video*

" . . . some points were made."

Stunningly lovely animation and music elevate what's already an extremely solid period melodrama/ode to the working class. I wanted to live in every single frame of this movie—the things it does with light and color made me vocally go "This is so fucking pretty" under my breath over and over for a good chunk of the ninety-minute runtime. I don't like much anime, but when I do I like it a lot.

Streaming on Netflix! It's technically a feature-length spinoff of a show, but I watched it sans any context and followed along just fine.

I continue to get an (probably narcissistic) absolute kick out of you reading this.

Most welcome! Whole record is definitely worth checkin' out—if you like Frisell's vibe, his fellow ECM guitarists Pat Metheny and John Abercrombie are also very much worth listening to.

Jesus fucking Christ. Fucking . . . Jesus fucking Christ.

The whimper after the bang. ABSOLUTELY the wrong quarantine viewing, which of course means it's the perfect quarantine viewing. Two hours of complete and utter hell on earth.

And then you read the Wiki article and discover that Ronald Reagan watched it and realize that art is pointless, we're never going to get rid of nuclear weapons and the atrocities depicted here could still happen at any time. Wheeeeeeeee

This is available on Mubi for the next four days. Sign up for a free trial and watch it.

Also TPM was shot on 35mm, so that one comes by it honestly.

[rewatch]

A great becoming. Community born from the ashes of life under capitalism, masquerading as romance born from the ashes of our former selves. As meticulously constructed as Primer, but abandoning that film's cold cerebralism for an elliptical sea of pure emotion and association. A masterpiece now more than ever, and definitive pandemic cinema.

(Give Shane Carruth money you fucking fucks.)

On my end, a triptych of triptychs for y'all tonight:

Rilo Kiley (Pictures of Success, Glendora, The Good That Won't Come Out)
Anaïs Mitchell (Out of Pawn, Cosmic American, Wedding Song)
Gillian Welch (Elvis Presley Blues, Caleb Meyer, One More Dollar)

Ladies, gentlemen, and other beings, may I present a Moulin Rouge! commentary! Your hosts are myself, Teague, Alice, and BDA.

IT'S ABOUT CAPITALISM