a seemingly random journey through cinema's heart of darkness. so to speak.

Wednesday, September 01, 2004

the weekly ritual (pun half-intended)

Let's resort to bullet points for my stuff in today's Philly Weekly:
* A rarity for me: an honest-to-god, entirely expository news article on the transition of the Film at the Prince program. One of the area's meatiest repertory venues will undergo some dramatic changes, with its excellent programmer, Gretjen Clausing, leaving, prompting the execs to develop a strategy about where to go next. (Or you could just, like, read the article.)
* A whopping three reviews on the terrible Danny Deckchair, the less-but-still-terrible Rosenstrasse, and the re-issue of the not-terrible-but-overrated La Dolce Vita.
* Rep. Another slow week (the cusp of seasons, you see), but there is yet still more words on Fellini, specifically Damian Pettigrew's felatio-esque doc Fellini: I'm a Born Liar. For those counting, that's roughly 800 words on il maestro.

For those who care, here's the slate: the entire run of the upcoming IFC show Film School, the "director's cut" of THX 1138, Godard's King Lear, Orson Welles' MacBeth, and the Stanley Kramer back-patting fest Inherit the Wind.

For those who care Part II: I'm stuck on page 320 of London Fields.


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