An oversized-suit wearing, slick-haired, sweat-drenched, madly lovable frontman and his equally peppy, fascinating band mates, dancing and singing for a crisp 90 minutes is all it takes to dissolve my stress for the day.

The enthusiasm is infectious, euphoria and joy run high and the only vibes here are good vibes because Jonathan Demme's masterful concert film Stop Making Sense will make you head bob till you get a concussion, your feet tap till it's sore and make you grin,…

Love at first erection.

An essential desert-island movie. Wickedly hilarious, comically violent and profoundly interesting, this is the film equivalent of a 900 episode manga condensed into a 4 hour epic saga. Tonal shifts and genre conventions can take a hike because Sion Sono keeps jumping around storylines and tones with no fucks to give, prompting an exhilarating ride that never seems to lose steam. Part drama, part satire, part comedy, part action but wholly original, it's got everything you…

i thought 'ending things' was a gaudy way of saying suicide. but, to my surprise, it meant more. much more.

there's a certain weight to it's meaning, a universality that connects the most mundane with the most extreme. it slips so easily from the tongue but a realisation suffuses the more it remains in your mind.

'ending things'

i've thought about ending things. so have you.

ending relationships
ending loneliness
ending pain
ending the past
ending connections
ending yourself.

things…

A village elder warning children to not dig up the earth.

An FW 189 fighter, ominously watching over the Belorussian fields.

A boy and girl frolicking in the rain amongst towering trees.

The severed foot of a soldier blown off by a mine.

The twitching eyeball of a slaughtered cow.

Bullets whizzing over a barren field, red-hot and relentless, mowing anything in it's path.

Burning buildings

Screaming men, women, children

Soldiers
Blood.
Mud.
Gasoline.
Corpses.

The face of a boy…