#cult-film

#cult-film

West Wind Drive-In theaters in San Jose and Concord offer a nostalgic drive-in movie experience. The Solano Drive-In is located at 1611 Solano Way, Concord, while the Capitol Drive-In is at 3630 Hillcap Ave., San Jose.

April O'Neil comes down out of City Hall as the ace reporter and then walks into the Hoyt-Schermerhorn station. That secret, that the Downtown Brooklyn station is subbing in for City Hall, is at the heart of an upcoming film series at BAM.

A time jump resets this show's character dynamics with Rue (Zendaya) working off her debt to a drug dealer and seemingly nearly all the series' other female characters engaged in sex work of some kind. Sam Levinson's vision of a woman's life is pretty depressing.

Forbidden Fruits is part of a burgeoning subgenre of horror movies that engage specifically with femininity and feminine aesthetics, dubbed 'girl horror' in a recent article in Rue Morgue magazine.

Under her leadership, Jackson said, 'The most important thing is to make sure that Film Forum continues its mission.' This reflects her commitment to the organization and its role in independent cinema.

I knew he was a legendary director and he was giving me a list of his movies like Raging Bull, Taxi Driver. Then he was like, 'You probably can't watch any of those quite yet, but there is this one movie I directed called Hugo.' A couple days later, in the mail, I received a copy of Hugo on Blu-ray from his office, which is really crazy.

"Cinematic Immunity" offers a workers'-eye view of Hollywood on the Hudson, revealing the intricate dynamics of filmmaking in New York City from 1954 to 9/11.

'Forbidden Fruits' has been widely hailed as a 'cult classic' by critics and fans, but labeling it as such too soon risks undermining the process that establishes a film's cultural significance over time.

Melling plays a shy young man, Colin, who meets a hot biker, Ray (Skarsgård); the two sweetly and awkwardly develop a BDSM relationship as Colin starts to grasp on to what he really wants from his life.

During a junket interview with OutNow, Gyllenhaal explained that the punctuation mark was included to represent the "whole lot of energy" that comes out when the historically muted Bride of Frankenstein is finally allowed to speak. That's all well and good, but to viewers the titular exclamation point is less of a metaphor and more of a golden arrow saying, "This movie is going to be crazy."

Even in an era of CGI and AI, nothing is more vivid than the intimacy and imagination of radio or more direct than the connection radio has with listeners. I remember when the legendary Stan Freberg drained Lake Michigan and filled it with hot chocolate, a 700-foot mountain of whipped cream, and a 10-ton maraschino cherry. We didn't have to see it. We heard it on the radio. It was Freberg's demonstration of what radio can do better than television.

The only way to watch today is either a little bit sleepy, a little bit hungover, a tiny bit high, or all three. It was a provocative, pseudo tongue-in-cheek movie in 1996 when it was released on January 18, and 30 years later, it feels like a surreal fever dream. In some ways, you could say is the most patient B-movie of all time, waiting for nearly an hour to actually reveal its supernatural, bloodthirsty premise.