Fun fact, the first Q from the Connery movies actually had a name. He was Major Boothroyd, the quartermaster (hence, Q branch).

(and now I wonder if this is a prelude to NOT observing MLK and Juneteenth. It's okay to observe holidays that Republicans nominally support, but anything celebrating black people? naaaah.)`

I still don't understand why DC hasn't shoveled a dump truck full of money at you to do a World's Finest graphic novel with these two. I just don't get it.

And then Dorothy Malone shows up and steals the whole goddamn movie. Great sonny Jesus. This scene...

Also: Luck favors the well-prepared mind, if you believe Louis Pasteur.

Fanning is a *delight* in a dual role and the film indulges in certain fan service flourishes that actually work with the story rather than detract from it (particularly a certain scene from one of the Alien movies). This has been an EXCEPTIONAL year for horror and horror-adjacent filmmaking.

Predator: Badlands is HUGELY entertaining, not least because I never thought I'd see a Predator movie that was a gay allegory about found family after getting kicked out of one's home for being a Predator twink.

Jennifer Lawrence (like Emma Stone) is well into her "I got mine so I'm gonna do whatever the fuck I want" era. A reminder of what a formidable actor she is, even if the film lets her devour the scenery.

Die My Love is going to lose most audiences because of a specific action its lead character takes. It's director Lynn Ramsay at her most brutal. It's her Douglas Sirk trad wife film. Bleak as hell and probably a shade too long.

In any sane universe this is a "let them eat cake" moment.

These people are a pack of thieves and murderers.

Netflix paid Wrightson's widow for the rights to reference his work. He's credited in the end credits. Not everything in there is 100% Wrightson, but his influence is in there. Check out the pics in this post. It's a beautiful film that any Frankenstein fan will love.
bsky.app/profile/krel...

I had that fear, too. I'm nine hours away from Chicago, and if it had only been playing there, I might still have gone. But probably not.

This is that John Collier story, Evening Primrose, that Sondheim turned into a musical TV special in the 1960s, isn't it?