Wafflings of a Cozmonaught

Giovanni's Room (1956) written by James Baldwin For some time now, I've told my friends that I don't want book or movie recommendations that deal with identity. Everyone is so goddamn obsessed with "telling their story" and pouring their heart out in the most tedious, cookie-cutter fashion that it, ironically, becomes cliche. We've been treading the same ground with different coats of paint for the last decade now. Preachy. Preachy. Preachy. "Sounds like you've got a chip on your shoulder, Colin." Yeah? Well maybe I do.  There's been something of a perverse trend lately. One where people are compelled to praise media for exploring themes, even if the characters and story are shoddy. And people wonder why no one trusts critic scores. /RantOver Maybe such stories just weren't for me. That's okay, right? I mean, look at the gay media I've reviewed the past month. Most of them were middling. Some were awful. But I had one more chanc...

Rift  (2017) directed by Erlingur Thoroddsen Hah! You thought I was dead and buried after not publishing for a few weeks, didn't you? Well, not so fast buckaroo. I'm here! And I'm...! Well. You know the rest. Let's hit it. I have very mixed feelings about Euro cinema. On the one hand, I appreciate the experimental nature. Europeans are much more likely to be ambiguous and subtle. To play with the surreal and mess with your mind.             Probably has something to do with them not getting that Hollywood money; instead, they often get support from government culture departments. It's a practice that cultivates a unique atmosphere of creativity. One m ore artsy and less flashy compared to American cinema.  However, the line between avant-garde and artsy fartsy is notoriously slim. And, while some European media walk this tightrope well, the vast majority do not. Take today's movie from jolly ol' Iceland, Rift .  Or, as I've taken to call...