Fantastic Fungi is also a portrait of a community of mushroom obsessives—who journalist Eugenia Bone beautifully describes as, “bloated pleasure-seekers with a scientific bent.”
The town of Bacurau fights back, they do some damage, and it feels like a victory for its characters and for viewers, a blueprint for imminent direct action and self-defense.
Baltimore filmmaker Marnie Ellen Hertzler’s Crestone feels like a great piece of outré journalism. It found the sweet spot of making you feel as though you’re there watching something happen and commenting on it all only when necessary.
A less cloying way for “mainstream” movies to ponder #MeToo, an encouraging trend in Hollywood movies
What looks like a staid costume drama is more like if Chantal Ackerman got ahold of a Merchant-Ivory movie.
Cotton Comes To Harlem, The Monkey Hustle, and Amazing Grace
If 1917, a video game, is a movie, then Oldenburg's video games, sitting in the back room of the Hamilton Gallery, are movies.
Obinyan ostensibly frames Wax Print around asking the question, “Is wax print African?” It’s a question that is both impossible to answer and has a pretty obvious answer: Yes. You have likely seen wax print and, just as likely, somebody ripping off its style.
Downtown 81, a somewhat fictional, hang-out movie starring Jean-Michel Basquiat and Alla Kovgan's assiduous documentary, Cunningham, screening in Baltimore
This is how one should reckon with sport—an expressive, important, often communal thing that is also big business and ultimately comes down to, well, rules that never entirely make sense.
Baltimoreans in particular might find something familiar in the film Hyenas, where of a town rendered poor by outside forces falls susceptible to corruption.
This was before our president extrajudicially murdered a top leader of the Iranian military so you would be forgiven for forgetting about it already, but right before the end of ...
Shauntee Daniels thought of making a documentary about Baltimore's burgeoning, embattled squeegee-ers more than a year ago—the last time there was a histrionic, public safety panic about the mostly young Black men who grind it out at intersections across the city washing car windows for a few bucks.