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This week we're discussing the new Viking epic The Northman in the context of writer-director Robert Eggers' brief but spectacular career, including his first two feature films, The Witch (2015) and The Lighthouse (2019). Deserving of the term "auteur" if anyone is, Eggers admits he had to deal with more creative interference than ever before with big-budget film The Northman, his attempt to widen his audience appeal by making the "most entertaining Robert Eggers film" he could manage. What affect has an attempt to go mainstream had on Eggers' idiosyncratic filmmaking?

In this Filmsuck episode we're talking about witches in film, a favorite subject of ours. We're focusing specifically on the revived figure of the truly frightening witch that is central to Robert Eggers' The Witch (2015) as well as the directorial debut of Goran Stolevski, You Won't Be Alone, which is currently playing in theaters.  These brilliant witch films are part of the "folk horror revival" of the past decade. Join us as we explore that cinematic context as well, covered in detail in the 2021 documentary Woodlands Dark and Days Bewitched: A History of Folk Horror. 

This week we're tackling another 2022 Academy Award nominee, Pedro Almodovar's Parallel Mothers. It's not nominated for Best Picture or even Best International Feature Film, which is weird--what the hell, Academy? But Penelope Cruz is nominated for Best Actress in her seventh film with the director, and longtime Almodovar collaborator Alberto Inglesias is nominated for Best Original Score. This is a more overtly political film than most in Almodovar's oeuvre, with a narrative concerning the Spanish Civil War and the lingering agony over those who were murdered by fascists. It's also a vivid film melodrama, with a wild central point of tension--were the two mothers' babies switched shortly after birth?

We're very keen on this audacious adaptation of Macbeth by Joel Coen, his first solo effort without brother Ethan. This might seem like an odd choice of project, but Coen stresses the link between Macbeth and earlier Coen "pulp noir" films. He also acknowledges his brilliant predecessors in making expressionistic black-and-white versions of Macbeth, saying in interviews that, while Akira Kurosawa's 1957 Throne of Blood is probably the greatest film adaptation, Orson Welles' 1948 Macbeth is the most emboldening: "That's a wacky movie. Welles had no problem rearranging, cutting, and inventing with Shakespeare. It was kind of liberating. You look at that and go, well, all right, he's doing it."

In this final episode of our "Favorite Film Genres" series, we take on what is perhaps the greatest, and certainly the most subversive, American film genre, film noir! We analyze the old and new versions of Nightmare Alley to help us define the dark, doom-obsessed, complex noir form: Guillermo del Toro's fantastical sin-soaked version currently playing in theaters, and the seemingly plainer but ultimately more searing and socially critical cult classic 1947 film noir. [WARNING: WE DO ALLLLL THE SPOILERS!]

In this week’s Filmsuck episode, our co-hosts throw down over which version of the great musical West Side Story reigns supreme. Eileen backs the 1961 version directed by Robert Wise and Jerome Robbins, while Dolores pulls for Steven Spielberg’s new version. That being said, co-hosts join forces to shake their fists at such Spielberg choices as overly CGIed and desaturated cinematography and some of the more egregious “social issue” scenes, like the lengthy one devoted to the purchase of a gun in order to point up the dangers of gun violence in a work that’s already taking on gang mayhem, racism, class hatred, abusive and corrupt policing…   Though Spielberg avoids the worst sin of the musical form, plugging in a random non-musically-gifted star and expecting them to pretend that they’re pulling off the singing and dancing you (don’t) see onscreen. Spielberg went for relatively unknown leads to at least secure good singers and dancers. We hope you enjoy the latest installment of our “Favorite Film Genres” series with this wild series of rants on the musical!   

Todd Haynes is co-host Dolores McElroy’s “favorite living director” for his films’ “meticulousness” and “visual splendor,” but above all the way he loves his subjects and makes them “vibrant and romantic”! Dressed for life at the front of a classroom, Haynes always projects the air of a nice, well-adjusted teacher--and indeed, he figured he’d wind up as a teacher who made experimental films on the side. But he made a splash in the late 1980s film world with his surprisingly moving film Superstar: The Karen Carpenter Story, done in stop-motion animation using Barbie dolls as his cast, quickly became a leading light of the New Queen Cinema movement with his film Poison under conservative right-wing attack, and he’s been with us as a fascinating filmmaker ever since, with films as varied in content and approach as Safe, Far From Heaven, I’m Not There, Mildred Pierce, Carol, Wonderstruck, Dark Waters, and the new documentary The Velvet Underground.      [MIND THE GAP: We got so embroiled in talking about Haynes, we talked right through a gap in the sound around the ten-minute mark. Just keep on listening, we come back strong!]  

We know we’ve sung high praises for all our Great Old Broads, but wow, was Liza Minnelli an amazing talent! In our final installment of the series, we discuss this multi-media star, tailor-made for the New Hollywood of the 1960s. Even though she had famous Hollywood movie studio parents, Judy Garland and Vincente Minnelli, Liza initially propelled herself toward life as a dancer and actor on stage. She had such early success, she won a Tony Award at age nineteen in her first leading role on Broadway, and the film industry quickly came calling. Ultimately becoming a star of all media--stage, screen, concerts, television--Minnelli gave her all in every performance, to the point that co-host Eileen notes that it’s exhausting just watching her sing-dance-act and do encore after encore. We talk about Minnelli’s extravagance and skill, her wild showbiz personal life, her admirable code of ethics, her relationship with her famous parents, and her investment in the glittering future. Minnelli poured every last ounce of herself into her performances, and we hope we returned the gesture this week on Filmsuck!

So much Liz that we needed two episodes to deal with all that stardom. Here we cover everything from the Liz-starring film epic Cleopatra that bankrupted 20th Century-Fox to near-death from pneumonia and an emergency tracheotomy to the scandalous Liz-and-Dick romance that included two marriages to Richard Burton plus one rebuke from the Pope to her Oscar-winning performance at age thirty-four as middle-aged harridan Martha in Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? to rehab at the Betty Ford Clinic to groundbreaking AIDS activism... And a whole lot more besides! 

Here's our very special Filmsuck episode featuring author and film columnist Jessa Crispin, who joins us in a gleeful, long-overdue takedown of Sofia Coppola films! 

In the latest Filmsuck episode, we're talking scary-beautiful sorceress-star Vivien Leigh who played Scarlett O'Hara and Cleopatra and Anna Karenina and Blanch DuBois and many other iconic film roles. We also take on the recent, remarkably stupid film studies scholarship about her. 

We're kicking off our "Great Old Broads" series with the fabulously overdressed silent screen star Gloria Swanson, who set out to become a definitive figure of excess in the highly excessive Hollywood of the 1910s and 1920s. You know her as Norma Desmond, the unforgettably mad has-been star determined on making a comeback ("I hate that word! It's 'return'!") in the great 1950 film Sunset Boulevard. Though she played the part so magnificently, even people who knew her personally became convinced Gloria must be Norma in real life, Swanson actually stayed very sane and very busy for decades after the Talkies revolutionized the film industry, working steadily in film, television, radio, and theater. But Gloria agreed with Norma in one major way--a star ought to look like a star!

In this Filmsuck Summer Film Series (FSFS) episode we're focusing on horror films set in vacation settings. We discuss the beachy shock effects of Jaws and Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?, and especially concentrate on the lakeside summer camp slasher terrors of Friday the 13th. Our special guest Ian Miller joins us to discuss the original Friday the 13th (1980), which was written by his father, screenwriter Victor Miller, whom Ian admits suffered from "Mommy issues." Hence his resentment of sequels featuring Jason as the iconic killer, when Jason's mother was meant to be the REAL killer.

We're kicking off our Filmsuck Summer Film Series (FSFS for short) with a tribute to films and TV about teen girls making the most of their magical interlude of freedom. We're also sharing some partially hidden gems that you might not know about: 2018 indie film Skate Kitchen and its current HBO series spin-off Betty, both directed by Crystal Moselle, about the NYC adventures of a real-life female crew of skateboarders, and the 2019 directorial debut of Oliva Wilde, Booksmart, a hilarious comedy about two high-achieving nerd-girls who spent their high school years studying and decide, on the eve of graduation, to have all their teenage fun in one epic night.

This week we're taking on the Ryan Murphy Problem by examining the new five-episode Netflix series Halston, produced and co-written by Murphy. It stars Ewan McGregor as the famous one-name fashion designer whose spectacular rise backed by huge corporate money made him a king of NYC in the Studio 54 era, and whose equally spectacular fall in a cloud of cocaine powder stripped him of nearly everything, including the Halston name. It's great material. So the question is, how does Murphy manage to screw it up?

In this episode of Filmsuck we justify our love for Tallulah Bankhead, the sensational star of stage, screen, radio, and television whose outrageous wit, frank enjoyment of recreational drugs and alcohol, and wild sexual adventuring made her as famous as her acting from the 1920s to the 1960s. She used to tell reporters, "Say anything about me, dahling, as long as it isn't boring," and we do our damnedest to honor her request.

Happy 110th birthday, TW! In this episode of Filmsuck we're reveling in the mind-blowing film adaptations of Tennessee Williams' great plays such as A Streetcar Named Desire (1951), Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1958), Suddenly, Last Summer (1959), and Night of the Iguana (1964). The most celebrated American playwright of the mid-20th century, Williams' riveting explorations of tormented sexuality, lacerating family trauma, the sick cruelty of the dominant culture, the desperation of the marginalized, and the "devouring" face of God make for a surreal and unforgettable cinema of excess.

This is, in a way, a continuation of last week’s special Anti-Valentine’s Day episode about “peak libido” and unsexy cinema and television, because we’re talking about the supposed counter-example of Bridgerton, which is getting raves for its red-hot period-piece sexiness. Special guest co-host Emily Robbins helps Eileen fathom the Regency romance subgenre in order to understand the phenomenon that is Bridgerton, which is such a huge hit on Netflix, it’s kind of…bizarre.

Today in honor of this awful holiday we're doing an anti-Valentine's Day episode, lamenting the dreary unsexiness of most film and television of our time. We're wondering if it's part of a much larger phenomenon--the depletion of erotic energy in our collective existence that's running alongside the depletion of other planetary resources. That's the topic of the book we're discussing entitled Peak Libido: Sex, Ecology, and the Collapse of Desire by our very special guest, Dominic Pettman, university professor of Media and New Humanities at The New School for Social Research.

In the latest Filmsuck episode we take on the depressingly timely topic of fascist aesthetics, in terms of historical development and cinematic representations. For example, did you know that the success of the notorious white supremacist film Birth of a Nation (1915) inspired both a resurgence in the Ku Klux Klan but also their adoption of the full white-hood-and-robe uniform featured in the film? And that before that point, KKK members had dressed in motley carnivalesque costumes more similar to the Q Anon rioter outfits worn to storm the capitol building on January 6th? Some other questions we consider include: why are the Nazis, whose professed ideology was arguably anti-art, anti-intellectual thuggery, frequently portrayed as highly cultured dandies in movies? And--if we consider the dapper Nazi villains of Hollywood as part of a fascist continuum with the Germanic tribe cosplay of the Q Anon rioters--is there such a thing as a fascist aesthetic?