The ocean is a murky mystery and perhaps the one thing I fear most. While NASA shoots probes and satellites out of Earth’s atmosphere to explore the galaxy and potentially find new planets, our oceans remain mostly unexplored. Miles below the surface lurk alien-like creatures with large eyes, translucent skin, and the ability to live under massive amounts of pressure. It is another world down there, a place full of unknowns. It is almost unfathomable that we know so little about what exists on our own planet! What lies on the bottom of the ocean, miles away from any light? William Eubank proposes a horrifying answer in Underwater.Continue reading “‘Underwater’ Proves That The Ocean Will Always Be Scarier Than Space”
Let’s get this right off the bat: no, Kristen Stewart does not kiss a single girl even though her hair looks like that. It does, however, open with her character Sabina choking a man between her thighs. After that, it veers off the tracks into forgettability, which is especially disappointing because I was rooting for this one. We were all rooting for this one.Continue reading “Review: ‘Charlie’s Angels’ is Just Fine, but Not Gay Enough!”
The human idea of identity is a delicate one, naturally susceptible to fragmentation, fluidity, and misunderstanding. Culture scholars have debated this phenomenon for decades, and JT Leroy engages these issues simply through the nature of its story; if there is a variation between how the outside world views us and how we view ourselves, which of these identities takes precedent? What, morally, do we owe people when we project certain images of ourselves—is it a lie to hide behind a mask, or can our true identity be found in the ways that we present to the outside world? Is our identity internal knowledge, external presentation, or a mix of the two? In JT Leroy, these questions are asked in earnest, but the film never comes to a conclusion, scratching only the surface of a much greater discussion on the queer experience of the self.
An unsolved mystery, especially one as peculiar as the case of the Lizzie Borden murders, should be like gold dust for filmmakers looking to tap into a ready-made audience. The chance to portray a real story that has peaked our communal curiosity for over a hundred years provides an opportunity to update those old tales for a new, fresher audience, and dare to make judgements through the interpretive lens of a camera. With a wealth of grisly information on the aftermath (Mr. Borden was struck 18 times with an axe; his wife 17), here is the perfect circumstance for an artist to create something devastatingly haunting from a story so deeply embedded in American popular culture. Lizzie promises all of this but never delivers, presenting us instead with a bare-bones carcass of a biopic that is stripped of all individuality, charm, or character.