Set in 1954 Detroit, Steven Soderbergh’s latest caper flick critiques capitalism and institutional racism as effortlessly as it piles on the twists.
Unsane reveals how entire institutions deny people’s individual experiences, demanding they submit to the official version of reality.
Layered with live performances, multimedia feeds, and casts in which everyone is an actor (including the cameramen and musicians), Doris Mirescu’s plays channel the model of the fun house.
Koyanisqaatsi, a debut collaboration between filmmaker Godfrey Reggio and composer Philip Glass, broke ground in so many ways in the 1980’s for exploring film as a poetic, rather than narrative or theatrical expression. Over ten years later, Reggio and Glass have come together to produce Visitors, another moving poem, at once visual and musical, without words or a clear narrative.
At first glance, Steven Soderbergh’s new film, Magic Mike, is about a charismatic male stripper looking to cash in his gold lamé G-string to pursue his dream of designing (and selling) custom-made furniture. Like many emerging artists that work as art handlers, he’s at a crossroads. He’s in his thirties, his body is beginning to break down, and the job that pays the bills is eating into his creativity, his passion. On closer inspection, Magic Mike is about the male body, and pleasure and gratification in looking at it in the movie theater, i.e., a darkened room.