Much has been said about British Prime Minister Winston Churchill. From his articulate and fiery maxims to his dogged strategies and tortured reluctance during World War II. Giant, voluminous biographies have been written about the man.
Here, the narrative speaks boldly: Without someone giving you adoration, you are without reason. This is sort of regressive belief system plagues the movie’s rather frustrating 110 minute run-time.
With spectral reverb, bleeding dyes, and a baritone inflection, Mike Turi’s project as Dream Joints is an effervescent mystery of lights and rolling smoke.
Breillat’s film is emotionally visceral, deliberately uncomfortable, and cognizant of its frank take on consent and self-identity.
With their latest release, Peach, The Total Bettys — Grabmeier, Bri Barrett, Chris Nolasco, Sami Perez — reinforce their contagious and unaffected fury with a collection of songs emblematic of the band’s saltwater and Pop Rocks sound.
The animation is varied and mesmeric: think Darren Aronofsky’s The Fountainhead as combined with Nickelodeon’s Doug. If that visual cocktail makes you feel disoriented, then you have the right idea.
With the hauntingly layered and chaotically cool release of 9 Bed, No Bath, Megan Hattie has launched the most entrancing and inimitable compilation of the year.
Sweat lacquered, brow furrowing, thirsty dudes are on the hunt to destroy everyone’s careers, even their own, in Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger’s 1948 classic, The Red Shoes.
With last year’s Going Out EP, St. Paul, Minnesota’s Strange Relations created the perfect narrative of faded neon signs and corkscrewed cigarette smoke. Casey Sowa’s lyrics poured over compositions that played like eerie reveries.
Of Ennui’s melodic discord channels My Bloody Valentine’s speaker eviscerating distortion, all while adding layers of viscous dread. There’s a defiant sense of peril, aggression, and intangible comfort throughout the record’s hypnotic running time.