Ari Aster made a Western about COVID, guns, and Katy Perry and somehow, it works.
Ari Aster made a Western about COVID, guns, and Katy Perry and somehow, it works.
Ozzy Osbourne he was our unholy grandfather, reminding us that weirdness was a virtue, not a flaw.
The Shining Girls features a time-traveling murder house, which sounds cool until you realize it’s mostly there to make plot holes feel intentional.
The Blackcoat’s Daughter is the kind of slow-burn horror that sneaks up on you, like a ghoulish text from your ex at 2 AM, impossible to ignore and even harder to explain.
Marilyn Manson is dead. Now it’s just Brian Warner dressing up as your goth older brother who’s never gotten over Bauhaus.
You don’t get two None So Viles. You should be happy it exists and that it changed everything.
One of the bleakest movies about grief, magic, and trusting the worst Airbnb host imaginable.
Ben Wheatley’s Kill List doesn’t scare you with what it shows, it scares you with what it tricks you into seeing.
Intermezzo flirts with emotional depth, but keeps ghosting its own potential.
For those who want their metal slow, loud, emotionally ruinous and occasionally French.
Anju Singh’s music won’t comfort you, but it might change how you listen forever.
Thirty-three minutes of self-inflicted psychic damage and you’ll ask for another serving.
The Monkey is what happens when daddy issues, cursed antiques, and one very committed wind-up toy team up to ruin your whole bloodline.
Some records scream to be heard; this one waits for you to get quiet enough to notice it.
What happens when a great director stops needing a reason to say something?
I wrote a bad review of Craig Clevenger’s latest novel. He answered. Then we met. Was Literaryville really too small for two aging, sensitive dudes?
