Tom Cruise plays to type as a vain main who is becoming more and more unhinged.
Penelope Cruz plays to type as a disarmingly pleasant pixie person.
Cameron Diaz plays to type as a manic blonde that takes things too far.
Tilda Swinton plays to type as a conduit between the real and the surreal.
Blossom plays to type as a dog.

Willow passes the Bechdel test. Quite well, actually.
(In case you’re unfamiliar, the test is quite simple. Three criteria. First, there must be two female characters with names. Second, these two must speak to each other. Third, they must speak to each other about something other than a man. Sound easy? It’s not. Apparently! A shocking number of films fail spectacularly at the Bechdel test.)
But here’s my problem. It’s Sorsha. You wouldn’t think it would be Sorsha, but it’s Sorsha. Hear me out. Sorsha is the daughter of the evil Queen Bavmorda. Sorsha is a warrior, an excellent fighter. She dresses in the armor of a man and is not discovered by other characters to be female until she takes off her helmet and lets down that bright red hair. (We get it, Ron Howard, we get it.) It’s predicted at the very start of the film that she will betray her mother. So of course she does.
And what turns her? Well…
Madmartigan, another excellent fighter turned theif, is played by Val Kilmer as a medieval fantasy Indiana Jones. (Don’t believe me? Watch it again. That’s Indiana goddamn Jones right there.) And at one point Madmartigan is smacked in the face with some love dust by a Brownie. (The Brownies are another issue, don’t get me started.) The first lady type he sees while he’s all gakked up on goo-goo potion? Yeah. It’s Shorsha. A women who has, up until this point, fought him (and won), captured him, mocked him, and kicked him in the face. He’s drunk on fairy potion number 5, so he starts confessing an undying love for her. It’s sappy poetry and he can’t even remember it in the morning. She confronts him about it and he admits he can’t remember it. But that’s it. She’s turned. It takes her a little while yet, but all it took to turn a warrior princess away from her all powerful mother was a boy to tell her she’s puuuurdy.
Sure, it’s passes the Bechdel test, but the test paper is smeared in ketchup. Ew.

(I know that was a lot, but I remember this differently from watching it as a small child, and now I’m all worked up about it.)

While it doesn’t stand up as the strongest horror movie of the 80s, and its subsequent sequels would send the franchise further into comedy, Nightmare on Elm Street does two things remarkably well.
Firstly, it makes for the ultimate VHS tape to have at your slumber party. It made you terrified to fall asleep. Of course this made conditions ripe for childhood pandemonium fueled by sugar, pizza, and the threat of having your hand put into a bowl of warm water if you were the first to nod off.
Secondly, it centers on a narrative that scares every child. Adults don’t believe children. Over and over adults are warned, cautioned, pleaded with, begged for help. And they brush off the sheer terror of the main character as hysteria or sleep deprivation. Eventually, I’m sure you’re not surprised, she has to take care of things on her own.
Oh, and it’s Johnny Depp’s first role. He gets eaten by a bed. Eaten. By a bed. He gets eaten by a bed.

In this lovely little sequel you can see Number Five (now Johnny Five):
-deliver granola
-wear a bandana
-steal car stereos
-dig a tunnel
-trash a bookstore
-rob a RadioShack
-hug some people
-hang glide
-insult a cat
-make his own mohawk
-go to confession
-join a street gang, sort of
-very sweetly call a woman ‘crap head’
-and much much much more!

Ever wanted to hear a character’s name repeated over 100 times during the course of a movie? Well, I hope you like the name Michael, because Lost Boys is going to let you hear it approximately 118 times. Plus you get some fun Goonies-type adventures with Coreys, both Feldman and Haim, in their first feature together. And if you’ve ever wanted to see Kiefer Sutherland eat worms, that’s in here too.
A solid 80s horror/teen flick with some heart. It’s a classic of the genre for good reason. And YES the dogs are credited by name at the end. Finally. (I’m looking at you, James Cameron. Pugsley deserved better.)

By now you’ve heard plenty of filmmakers say it, “we wanted to make it look like the comic book.” Warren Beatty directing, and staring in, this movie may have been the first to really pull it off. The colors are fantastic, the angles are dynamic, the roster of actors is killer. Beatty clearly called in a career’s worth of favors to get this thing cast. Unfortunately, the comic book all this was based on had to be Dick Tracy. And Dick Tracy’s extensive cast of mobster villains was, for lack of a better word, grotesque. This film got an Oscar for the makeup effects done to achieve the looks of gangsters like Small Face (who has a head that’s about 3 feet wide), Flat Top (who has a head you could serve drinks off of), and Lips (who is Al Pacino with a giant mouth and a ridiculous chin, screaming about 90% of the time). But if you can look past the caricature prosthetics, and maybe you’d like to see Madonna with her real face again, give Dick Tracy about an hour and 40 of your time.

“It’s an illusion, Michael. A trick is something a whore does for money. Or cocaine!”

Very young, very smart people comically refusing to be tools of the military industrial complex eventually leads to a man swimming in popcorn because he thought he heard the voice of god.

“I’ll share my life with you. But, not my doughnuts.”
—-Crystal Woods

Fisher Stevens’ truly bizarre role in this movie aside, it’s great. (I mean, brownface, really?)
This is the movie that should make everyone want a robot, if somehow you don’t already. Also, Ally Sheedy’s character has a skunk in her kitchen and occasionally just carries around a ferret. Neither of those things are ever really addressed adequately.

William Shatner, before he was William Shatner, plays Richard Spencer, before there was a Richard Spencer.
And of course he gets punched in the face.

This documentary is a well crafted crash course in the cinema of the 1970s. It takes the viewers through the death of the Hollywood studio system of the 1960s, the influence of the of the European New Wave, and how it all led to the revolution of independent and artistic film. Francis Ford Coppola, Robert Altman, Peter Bogdanovich, Dennis Hopper, Martin Scorsese, Paul Schrader, Polly Platt, Julie Christie, Milos Forman, and more give first hand accounts of their experiences in filmmaking. The cast this documentary gathered is unrepeatable and has turned the project into an important historical document as these artists all grow older and pass away. Learn how politics, feminism, new methods of filming, and a breakthrough in subject matter birthed what we think of as cinema today. This includes stories about Taxi Driver, the Godfather, the Exorcist, Easy Rider, the French Connection, They Shoot Horses Don’t They, and the Last Picture Show.
If you’re looking for things to watch, or just want to learn more about the history of modern film and how we got to where we are today, this will provide you with an excellent list of movies, directors, writers, and actors to watch and follow.

The gang behind Horrible Histories delves into the territory of both the Muppets and Monty Python and manages not to drown in a pool that deep. Humor on several levels makes for a great watch for both children and adults who have managed not to become total bores. Made with the genius-level crew at Jim Henson Studios. If you can’t find genuine joy in this show, lose my number.

Sorry to everyone who likes this program, but I have to ask is america the only country that has vicious crimes, or is it they love to sensationalize sick people, we don’t see movies or series coming from the subcontinent highlighting their rape culture or child sex trade or the amount of people who just dissapear in russia every year, it’s like how america has the only openings to the hellmouth even though america is a young country for white settlement and how america seems to has the monopoly on haunted houses etc, death cults it’s as if nowhere else on the planet has any fun things to play with, or is it that america is just so self obsessed.

In a classic campy camp movie the campers’ thick New York accents are the campiest thing by far.

The devil is hot.

The iguana isn’t listed in the end credits. Rude, James Cameron. Rude.
His character had a name AND a line. He hissed, that counts. Pugsley deserved better.

Of the three Warhol superstars whose art lay at the edges of gender, Candy Darling was the most magical by far. Candy was trans-gendered at a time when the world had no idea what that meant, let alone how to handle it. So, like any good artist, she set to work on herself. But instead of merely making herself in the woman she wanted to see in the mirror, she made herself into a legend beyond reality.
This documentary follows longtime confidant Jeremiah Newton as he makes arrangements to bury Darilng’s ashes, and finally solidify her legacy. His firsthand accounts of Candy throughout her life in New York are joined to Newton’s personal research into her life before the legend. Revelations about a person assigned male at birth seeking her true identity is both eye-opening in the context of the 1950s and 60s, and heart-shattering as you watch her journey end in her own demise (lymphoma most likely greatly exacerbated by the early versions of female hormones she was taking).
Candy was always too blonde, too femme, too ethereal, too unafraid to last long in a world as bitter and bleak as the middle of the 20th century. She didn’t even make it out of the 1970s. She died before her 30th birthday.

The original “evil child” movie, the Omen is required viewing in the horror genre. Not reliant on cheesy makeup, glowing eyes, or overwrought effects, the Omen saves everything for just the right time.
And just as the sneaking suspicion about a 5 year old child would, everything can be read two ways. Maybe he’s evil. Maybe you’re going crazy. Maybe that nanny is here for nefarious reasons, and maybe the agency really did send her. And where does that dog keep coming from anyway?
But the grey areas only last until it’s too late. The fog clears and we’re all screwed.

Have you got short term memory loss? The Room will remind you of everything. Everything is repeated; names, motivations, exposition, over and over.
But what about that short term memory loss? You should watch The Room, it will remind you of everything. Names, motivations, and exposition are all repeated, over and over.
Living with short term memory loss? May I recommend The Room, as it reminds you of everything. It repeats names, motivations, and exposition. Over and over!

The intersection of Verhoeven and Eszterhas must also be the location of a failed nuclear power plant. The two films in this precise location are Showgirls and Basic Instinct. All of the characters are uncontrollably emotional, comically sexual, occasionally homicidal, and absolutely hilarious.
When Sharon Stone is actually wearing clothes in this movie she only wears white and beige. So, at a distance, she’s nude all the time. Michael Douglas spends about 90% of his time on screen in some kind of spitting rage. And all of the dialogue is ludicrous. The phrase “f*ck of the century” is used, without irony, three times.
But am I going to watch it again? Yeah, probably.

The last in the series to feature Steve Guttenberg. Also the last to feature a quick visit to a leather bar. Coincidence? Hm.

Absolutely incredible documentary about the portrayal of native people in film, and how those portrayals affect native viewers. Humorous, heart breaking, eye opening, everything it should be. Also functions as a fabulous to-watch list of movies, for good and bad reasons.

A pivotal and unquestionably beautiful documentary about gay and lesbian representation in media, this film also functions as a great to-watch list.
The most important part of this project for me was to see so many different people talk about representation. Some saw themselves in screen at a very young age, some had to wait. Some saw only negative portrayals, some were lucky enough to see a glimpse of something positive. (This was made in the mid 90s, so a lot of positive representation was yet to come.) But every time each of these people saw themselves on screen it was important. There is something uniquely human about a craving to see yourself reflected back in stories. Everyone should get to see a story with someone who looks like themselves, thinks like themselves, loves like themselves, lives like themselves.
This documentary was made almost 25 years ago, so it doesn’t include as wide a spectrum of the LGBTQ+ as it would today. For a great pairing to this doc that covers trans representation in film and television please see Disclosure. Please.

Watching an invisible Kevin Bacon lazily shove Twinkies into the hole where his mouth would be while wearing a wrinkly, flesh colored latex mask is only a fraction as gross as watching him commit all those sexual assaults and a violent rape. Characters are one dimensional and (I can’t believe I’m going to say this) hollow. If, at any point during this movie, you find yourself identifying with Bacon’s character, I urge you to seek counseling.

A sociopathic sex worker hitchhikes her way to Las Vegas. She pulls a knife on the first person she meets, angrily eats some french fries, and then accepts an offer to live with the second person she meets. Sound like an insane first night? Yeah, and it’s only up from here.
Within a two hour span you can also see this woman aggressively dance nude, simulate sex with people she likes and hates, somehow get (and keep) a job without “remembering” her social security number, scream at people a whole lot, roundhouse kick a rapist in the face, have seizure-like sex in a pool, and maybe attempt murder. This is a camp classic for good reason. It’s truly as bright, as naked, as outlandish, and as absurd as you’ve heard. Maybe even more so.
And if you want to have a decent conversation with a drag queen over the age of 30, you’re going to need to know a lot of references from this movie. Study up.

A sociopathic sex worker hitchhikes her way to Las Vegas. She pulls a knife on the first person she meets, angrily eats some french fries, and then accepts an offer to live with the second person she meets. Sound like an insane first night? Yeah, and it’s only up from here.
Within a two hour span you can also see this woman aggressively dance nude, simulate sex with people she likes and hates, somehow get (and keep) a job without “remembering” her social security number, scream at people a whole lot, roundhouse kick a rapist in the face, have seizure-like sex in a pool, and maybe attempt murder. This is a camp classic for good reason. It’s truly as bright, as naked, as outlandish, and as absurd as you’ve heard. Maybe even more so.
And if you want to have a decent conversation with a drag queen over the age of 30, you’re going to need to know a lot of references from this movie. Study up.

If you only know one Lou Reed song it’s probably “Walk on the Wild Side.” It’s essentially a song about characters surrounding the scene at Andy Warhol’s Factory. Little Joe (Dallesandro) is real, the Sugar Plum Fairy is only partially so. But the big three are Holly, Candy, and Jackie. Holly Woodlawn was the funny one. Candy Darling was the pretty one. And Jackie Curtis? Well, Jackie was the SMART one.
In this documentary, Jackie’s friend Craig Highberger crafts a comprehensive portrait of a person beyond any single discipline, beyond gender, beyond time. If you’re into 1970s music, art, avant guarde theater, drag, culture, poetry, chaos, quips, or glitter you WILL recognize famous faces in this doc. Poet Taylor Mead, raconteur and Bowie manager (my favorite) Leee Black Childers, drag pioneer Holly Woodlawn, trans trailblazer Jayne County, beacon of gay theater Harvey Fierstein, indie darling Sylvia Miles, director Paul Morrissey, general treasure of a human Lily Tomlin, and on and on and on.

At the time I write this there is no link here for this film. But I’ll write about it anyway, I love it THAT much.