Original Poem: Francis Coppola’s Apocalypse
Sean MurphyOn Art Monsters & Immortality i. It continues to be a joy and honor to have my work appear –alongside so many excellent writers– in Exterminating Angel Press. The theme of…
Val Kilmer: He Was Our Huckleberry
Nice to see some great tributes to Val Kilmer rolling in (and this one in particular, by Esther Zuckerman in the New York Times, where she offers the astute and, to me,…
Gene Hackman, The Bone Marrow of American Artistry
Once upon a time when I was sixteen I had the great good fortune to be driving my father's car when the alternator died (making it, at least initially, my…
Shelley Duvall, Sui Generis
It's going to be all The Shining all the time, but the lead sentence of Shelley Duvall's obit should be that she appeared in 3 Women and Annie Hall *in…
March 5, 1982: John Belushi’s Bungalow
I was the ideal demographic: alive while he thrived on Saturday Night Live, old enough to catch Animal House on cable, young enough to think The Blues Brothers were amazing…
Richard Lewis: Farewell and Thank You
Curb Your Enthusiasm has been a ceaseless source of joy for me the last two decades, and my capacity to revisit certain episodes (in general) and specific scenes (in particular)…
Norman Jewison: Movies as Melting Pots
Boy has America gotten a lot of mileage congratulating itself for being a big, diverse, inclusive land of opportunity. The American Dream as melting pot, wherein our differences don't define…
2023: A Final Farewell to Some Irreplaceable Icons
Wow, it's sad to look back and see the sheer number of all-times greats we watched depart our planet this year. Of course, these losses are invariably mitigated by the…
Scorsese’s Stations of the Cross: ‘Mean Streets’ at 50
"Don't you have something you really want to do?" Eternal props to John Cassavetes, mentor not only to Martin Scorsese, but innumerable other apprentices who carried his torch and elevated…
Like a Hurricane: The Brilliance of Billy Friedkin’s Burned Bridges
Boy does it hurt to admit William Friedkin was mortal after all. It didn't seem like he'd ever die; he was so demonstrably in love with life, his art, and…