Issue 8

This was supposed to be an essay about Elaine May. A clean, reverent ode – something tidy and declarative about innate genius and legacy and all that jazz. But somewhere along the way, in crept self-awareness – how can I make this about me? , my subconscious uttered – and it became something much larger than a discussion of May’s body of work. It stopped being just about her and became about the strange, crowded village of people I’ve built inside my head; about what it means

Much could be said about 1974’s Chinatown, and there is, in fact, already a large collection of fantastic videos, special features, books, etc., covering every aspect of this LA Noir Classic. I try to consume as much of this collection as I can, as Chinatown  has long been a favorite film of mine and the one I hold responsible for causing a major change in the lens through which I saw (and see) films. At 16 years old, I was aware of Chinatown ’s existence but knew little abou

(Cover by Malia Varela) Fingers slightly clasped, like a restrained princess wave. When you gesture toward a table, the arm lifts gently and lowers the same way - controlled, deliberate. You linger for a moment, just in case someone asks about their coat or the restroom. I was eighteen, going into my second year at NYU Tisch for Acting, when I started working at a Michelin-starred Brasserie in Williamsburg. The restaurant branded itself as the “laid-back Michelin” - the kind

In Sunset Boulevard , Billy Wilder's dark love letter to Hollywood, the fading silent film star Norma Desmond confronts the industry that has moved on without her. In a tense exchange that captures the fracture between silent cinema and the sound era, screenwriter Joe Gillis challenges her legacy: Joe Gillis: "You used to be in silent pictures. You used to be big." Norma Desmond: "I am big. It's the pictures that got small." This poignant moment reflects how the invention of

Spoilers ahead for La Chimera by Alice Rohrwacher I saw La Chimera, directed by Alice Rohrwacher, on a scalding July day in 2024. I was grateful for the air conditioning in the IFC theater, where I sat for 2 hours, transported to 1980s Northern Italy. The other times I’ve seen media related to that time and place are when I watch Call Me By Your Name  every few months. Elio and Oliver’s idyllic summer fantasy soothes in me what the New York winter chill disrupts. La Chimera  

*Spoilers Ahead for Blue Moon “You ever meet someone, and know instantly that both your lives are going to be irretrievably altered?”  I don’t feel compelled to write film reviews much. As the editor of this column, I like to fix your prose and talk about films in the privacy of my own home.  But some films pull me out of hiding; they make me want to scream my praise.  This is me screaming said praise:  I grew up in New York City with Ashkenazi Jewish grandparents who live an