Tomboy paints that moment, poised on the cusp of adolescence, when make-believe can still be guileless.
To say Optic Antics, the first book devoted entirely to the films of Ken Jacobs, is long overdue would constitute a gross understatement.
Rossellini uses cheating, lying, stealing, and dying — the elements of melodrama — to reveal a new reality defined by surveillance and reconnaissance, occupation and militarism.
His best movies devour their own boundaries and turn ever outward: toward life and the stories by which we try to understand it.
We’d like to get polemical. We want to get argumentative. Film criticism has become toothless.
He scrawls the Hebraic name “Schechina” across the top of a canvas, pencils the digits one through ten on a stiffened white dress, and shouts.