Anne the lucky winner, photographed by the guy who’s lucky to be by her side for 19 years and counting.
Welcome to the launch of a brand new MCC miniseries!
Disney World! Part 1: A Grand Prize Trip to Orlando
My 2023 Reading Stacks #3
Two books about movies, some of which are based on books. One book technically works as a sequel to the other.
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover:
Welcome to our recurring MCC feature in which I scribble capsule reviews of everything I’ve read that was published in a physical format over a certain page count with a squarebound spine on it — novels, original graphic novels, trade paperbacks, infrequent nonfiction dalliances, and so on. Due to the way I structure my media-consumption time blocks, the list will always feature more graphic novels than works of prose and pure text, though I do try to diversify my literary diet as time and acquisitions permit.
Occasionally I’ll sneak in a contemporary review if I’ve gone out of my way to buy and read something brand new. Every so often I’ll borrow from my wife Anne or from our local library. But the majority of our spotlighted works are presented years after the rest of the world already finished and moved on from them because I’m drawing from my vast unread pile that presently occupies four oversize shelves comprising thirty-five years of uncontrolled book shopping. I’ve occasionally pruned the pile, but as you can imagine, cut out one unread book and three more take its place…
“The Crown” Season 6, Part 1: Who Killed Princess Diana the Most?
“It seems to Elton I lived my life like a candle in the wind…”
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover:
At the start of the pandemic my wife Anne and I binged the first three seasons of Netflix’s The Crown and soon caught up with the rest of fandom. One slight hitch: while Anne is a major history aficionado, that was never my forte. Compared to my blissfully ignorant self, Anne is far more knowledgeable of history in general and British royalty in particular. Frankly, I’ve learned more about their country’s storied past from my wife and from Oscar-nominated movies than I ever did from school. So far I’ve enjoyed anyway, and understood most of what’s gone on…
After catching up on the first three seasons in one mid-quarantine lump sum, followed by focused listicles for Season Four and Season Five respectively as they debuted…here we go again! Creator Peter Morgan and returning directors Christian Schwochow and Alex Gabassi bring us the first three-fifths of season 6, a four-part arc devoted to the biggest elephant among Buckingham Palace’s numerous elephant-filled rooms: the Death of Di. (Spoilers ahead. You probably know the ins and outs of her tragedy better than I do, but a few show-specific artifices will come into play.)
Yes, There’s a Scene During “The Marvels” End Credits
I rarely do entries about Marvel’s TV shows, but I really, really should’ve done one about the cheerfully grade-A Ms. Marvel before now.
Critics in the long run can be a slowly forgiving bunch whenever films break old rules, up until a film breaks one of the rules they happen to like. More than any other series since the end of the Rin Tin Tin canon, the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s narrative/marketing design has ceased any and all compliance with their longstanding preference for every film to be a self-contained work unto itself, welcoming any and all newcomers and generously bringing all viewers up to speed on preexisting elements without requiring homework or unconditional obsession. I read four different professional reviews of Marvel’s The Marvels before I saw it for myself, and three of them admitted up front they hadn’t kept up with the Disney+ shows that are now integral to the overall continuity. In possibly unrelated news, none of them gave it five stars or an A++.
To be fair, no one — pro, amateur, or non-writing casual — is obligated to love Marvel, embrace superhero films in general, or keep tabs on it all. The cosmopolitan scholars out there who routinely write book-length essays on the works of Abbas Kiarostami or Apichatpong Weerasethakul may not have much recreational use for “popcorn flicks” or TV shows in general. They may, in fact, want to spend their downtime away from screens. For our family, the MCU is one of our bonding rituals, each new film or episode an occasion in which we all put away our respective devices and gather before a single device for an hour or three. Fans who’ve followed along moment-of-release can tell you it isn’t actually that hard to keep up. Sometimes entire months fly by without new MCU stories. It only piles up if you step away for years. With very few exceptions (Anne, like many, still rejects Eternals) we’ve kept up and we helpfully remind each other of characters or plot developments that we’ve forgotten along the way. We’re the Goldens. It’s who we are and what we do.
So I can say with at least a modicum of hobbyist authority that the baffling incoherence of The Marvels‘ first half has nothing to do with forgotten lore or skipped content; its structure is shoddy and wobbly entirely on its own terms. In deference to the intent of director/co-writer Nia DaCosta (the fourth Candyman) to bring the runtime under two hours, she and co-writers Megan McDonnell (WandaVision) and Elissa Karasik (Loki) whittled the proceedings down to 105 minutes, making this 33rd MCU entry the shortest one to date, but tried to economize by front-loading it with action and shuffling too much useful exposition and cause-and-effect basics to the middle of the film.
I’d be more irritated if The Marvels also weren’t so delightfully all-out fun, provided your brain has an MST3K-programmed “You Should Really Just Relax” mode, which comes in handy for 1950s B-movies and for occasions like this. If it helps, I can sort through some of that disjointedness without major spoilers. Not all of it, mind you.
Top 10 Reasons Why Warner Brothers Canceled “Coyote vs. Acme”
Wile E. Coyote on Friday getting the news from his agent.
All weekend long, rational onlookers with any shred of goodness in their hearts have been outraged at the news that Warner Bros. Pictures pulled the plug on what would’ve been a new Looney Tunes feature, Coyote vs. Acme. After spending five years and $70 million on the project — which combined animation and live-action, and would’ve starred Wile E. Coyote, the Road Runner, and John Cena — the company announced in an incoherent statement that they plan to concentrate on making films and this film didn’t qualify as a film. Or something. For want of a credible explanation, we’re 105% certain it’s another soulless tax write-off situation. Several folks involved in the production — including its director Dave Green, the editor, the composer, and the practical effects teams — have been sounding off about their collective heartbreak on social media and sharing tidbits from their work-spaces as evidence of What Might Have Been.
As usual, though, no one thinks of the billionaires. Sure, this act destroys WB’s integrity and signals to any and all actors and filmmakers that they have absolutely no reason to trust them as an employer ever again. Sure, audiences have no guarantee that they won’t give the same destructive treatment to other allegedly upcoming films like Dune: Part Two or the Joker sequel. Sure, this sends a heavy-handed message to James Gunn that they could do to Superman: Legacy what they did to Batgirl if he fails to satisfy their capricious whims. But wait! What if their boneheaded, pocket-lining, dismissive act of anti-art cruelty and complete waste of everyone’s creative efforts were remotely justifiable in any way to us, the non-lobotomized Viewers at Home? And what if they’re just too shy to be honest with us?
From the Home Office in Indianapolis, IN: Top 10 Reasons Why Warner Brothers Canceled “Coyote vs. Acme”:
My 2023 Reading Stacks #2
From the Department of Candid UK Actor Memoirs That Have Been Mined for Clickbait Fodder by Entertainment News Sites.
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover:
Welcome to our recurring MCC feature in which I scribble capsule reviews of everything I’ve read that was published in a physical format over a certain page count with a squarebound spine on it — novels, original graphic novels, trade paperbacks, infrequent nonfiction dalliances, and so on. Due to the way I structure my media-consumption time blocks, the list will always feature more graphic novels than works of prose and pure text, though I do try to diversify my literary diet as time and acquisitions permit.
Occasionally I’ll sneak in a contemporary review if I’ve gone out of my way to buy and read something brand new. Every so often I’ll borrow from my wife Anne or from our local library. But the majority of our spotlighted works are presented years after the rest of the world already finished and moved on from them because I’m drawing from my vast unread pile that presently occupies four oversize shelves comprising thirty-five years of uncontrolled book shopping. I’ve occasionally pruned the pile, but as you can imagine, cut out one unread book and three more take its place…
Best CDs of 2022 According to an Old Guy Who Bought Ten
Hi, this is Fat Casey Kasem again, and welcome to MCC’s Top Ten!
As part of my annual series of year-in-review entries — which I’m well aware should be posted nearer the beginning of a calendar year as opposed to the end of the subsequent — I remain one of six people nationwide who still prefers compact discs to digital downloads. My weird hangups about vinyl would require a separate essay unto themselves. I don’t splurge too much because it’s increasingly tougher for new music to catch my ear as I grow older and more finicky, and as my favorite acts of yesteryear die, stop recording, or turn toward musical directions that take them beyond my zones of interest. That usually means missing out on what the majority loves, thus further dragging me down the long plummet into total irrelevance as chronicled on this very website a couple times per week.
With the specter of COVID in our rear-view mirrors, or at least lurking in an off-road blind spot and plotting its next sinister mutation, 2022 ended up my biggest CD-shopping year since the 1990s. Of the ten acts represented here, two are bands with passionate voices I only recently discovered for myself by paying closer attention to Pitchfork over the past couple years. (In my defense, one of them is a debut album from a new act. As for the other one: I’ve simply been missing out.) The other eight are established pros preexisting in my collection, many of whom emerged from pandemic hibernation to reveal how they spent all that quarantined free time. Of those same eight, three average 40-plus in age like me. But I don’t like them just because they’re old. I’ve given up on plenty of now-elderly acts who, like, used to be cool.
“The Creator”: Won’t Someone Please Think of the Robots?
Whenever the teaser for this film came up between my rounds of Words With Friends, this was the exact image when the X would finally come up and I could exit the teaser and get back to my games.
“Robots are people too!” all the science fiction stories would plead with the ordinary citizens who dreaded a future where automatons immune both to Repetitive Strain Injury and to poverty might usurp our billions of factory jobs. Fantastical genre tales moved beyond Isaac Asimov’s Three Laws and into the pop culture firmament through the hard-luck journeys of Data, Short Circuit‘s Number Five, the Iron Giant, Chappie, the Westworld staff, the cast of Kubrick and Spielberg’s A.I., and legions of other eminently merchandisable microchipped personalities in between. If season 1 of Picard is to be believed, robots’ reputational status will remain a fragile thing even until the 24th century. All it takes is one malware-addled malefactor or one sinister organic-led false-flag operation, and robot rights can be tossed out the window as we revert to seeing them as our inventions and our property, rather than our friends, neighbors, or lovers.
Or, as we’re learning in A.D. 2023, all it takes is to redefine the parameters of the chat. Robots are out; A.I.s are in. Robots were willing to settle for our blue-collar jobs, but their non-corporeal cyber-brethren are coming for our white-collar and no-collar jobs. They aren’t even truly sentient yet, but limited-perception A.I.s on corporate leashes are being “hired” as journalists, writers and artists — utterly mediocre ones, to be sure, but just barely productive enough to please greedy employers and undiscerning audiences. Now the online citizenry are mobbing the networks with chants of “BURN THE A.I.!” as we’re ostensibly on the cusp of having literary discussions about the oeuvre of writer/director HAL 9000, auctioning off Skynet’s black-velvet paintings, or handing out Grammies and Newbery Awards to the dueling superprograms from Person of Interest.
Co-writer/director Gareth Edwards (2014’s Godzilla, most of Rogue One) doesn’t so much confront our current debates as he sidesteps them with The Creator, a quaint throwback to simpler times when robots, like immigrants, simply wanted to chase their personal ambitions freely in peace, and coexist with (and despite) the flesh-and-blood torch-and-pitchfork mobs at large. The film feigns relevance by referring to all its robots as “A.I.”, which is technically accurate yet may be confusing to anyone with a severe hangup about subgenre labels. To SF geeks, most of the cast are robots. ChatGPT and OpenArt do not in any way enter Edwards’ conversation here.
Basil Fawlty Begs No Pardon: A Night in Indianapolis with John Cleese
6:30 p.m. Sunday night, total darkness thanks to Daylight Savings ending that very day.
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover: in October my wife Anne and I traveled from Indianapolis to Cincinnati for a live Q&A with TV’s Admiral Picard himself, Sir Patrick Stewart. The 83-year-old Shakespearean thespian and erstwhile starship captain had a new book to sell and thousands of fans to enthrall.
Speaking of American stage appearances by octogenarian Englishmen who costarred in a few landmark TV shows and some notable films, whose tours forbid the taking of photos or video, who’ve been married a few times and whose current wives are over thirty years younger than they are…now for something completely different!
Halloween Stats 2023: Extra Helpings for the Brave and the Bold
Yes, we overprepared. Fortunately candy never lasts long enough for us to worry about expiration dates. Assuming candy even has those.
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover: each year since 2008 I’ve kept statistics on the number of trick-or-treaters brave enough to approach our suburban Indianapolis doorstep during the Halloween celebration of neighborhood unity and no-strings-attached strangers with candy. I began tracking our numbers partly for future candy inventory purposes and partly out of curiosity, so now it’s a tradition for me. Like many bloggers I’m a stats fiend who thrives on taking head counts, even when we’re expecting discouraging results.
The October 2023 Birthday Trip, Part 6 of 6: Cincinnati! With Special Guest Covington
The view from our Friday night hotel in Covington, Kentucky.
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover:
In addition to our annual road trips, my wife Anne and I have a twice-yearly tradition of spending our birthdays together, usually traveling to some new place or attraction as a short-term road trip — partly as an excuse to spend time together on those most wondrous days, partly to explore areas we’ve never experienced before. That’s every May for me and every October for her. We’re the Goldens. It’s who we are and what we do.
Anne knew what she wanted to do for this year’s birthday outing way back in July: see Patrick Stewart live on stage in Cincinnati. As previously recounted, we landed fourth-row seats and had a wonderful time. But Admiral Shakespeare’s grand tour wasn’t the only thing we did that weekend…
If you’ve been following along in real time rather than discovering this website months or years down the road, I realize the numbering might seem confusing. The events of our first four chapters (i.e., our scenic walking tour of Oldenburg) took place hours before Stewart’s gig, which is now retroactively Part Five of our tale. Going back and editing that entry’s title would wreak havoc behind the scenes, so we’re all going to have to live with that discrepancy, like when you’ve bought six books in a seven-part series but end up completing the set with a mismatched edition of the seventh from a years-later reissue in the wrong size, font, design and cover painter. I’ll cope if you will.
The October 2023 Birthday Trip, Part 4 of 6: Antiquing Practice
Star Wars, age 46, is now a kind of antique. Sigh.
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover:
In addition to our annual road trips, my wife Anne and I have a twice-yearly tradition of spending our birthdays together, usually traveling to some new place or attraction as a short-term road trip — partly as an excuse to spend time together on those most wondrous days, partly to explore areas we’ve never experienced before. That’s every May for me and every October for her. We’re the Goldens. It’s who we are and what we do.
Anne knew what she wanted to do for this year’s birthday outing way back in July: see Patrick Stewart live on stage in Cincinnati. As previously recounted, we landed fourth-row seats and had a wonderful time. But Admiral Shakespeare’s grand tour wasn’t the only thing we did that weekend. Friday on our way from Indianapolis to Cincy we spent the afternoon in the Hoosier town of Oldenburg, where German roots run deep and our curiosity abounded…
Other than the Brau Haus, the Oldenburg business that held our attention the longest was Carriage House Antiques. We don’t officially collect antiques per se just yet, but I can feel the urge coming as we age. I’ve bought the occasional objet d’art here and there, like that one time in Paducah when I picked up a stack of random issues of Marvel’s Quasar from an antique shop, not in the 3-for-$1 clearance boxes at the comic shop down the block. I could feel that same tug as we wandered this year’s Indiana State Fair, though their antique assortment was a competition, not a bazaar. Will we ever give in to the full antiquing urge and begin hoarding stuff we find that’s older than us, or are we okay with merely window-shopping and pointing at random items while telling each other, “Hey, I remember when this was a thing”?
The October 2023 Birthday Trip, Part 3 of 6: The Hydrants of Oldenburg
Franciscan nun hydrant across the street from the Convent and Academy of the Immaculate Conception,
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover:
In addition to our annual road trips, my wife Anne and I have a twice-yearly tradition of spending our birthdays together, usually traveling to some new place or attraction as a short-term road trip — partly as an excuse to spend time together on those most wondrous days, partly to explore areas we’ve never experienced before. That’s every May for me and every October for her. We’re the Goldens. It’s who we are and what we do.
Anne knew what she wanted to do for this year’s birthday outing way back in July: see Patrick Stewart live on stage in Cincinnati. As previously recounted, we landed fourth-row seats and had a wonderful time. But Admiral Shakespeare’s grand tour wasn’t the only thing we did that weekend. Friday on our way from Indianapolis to Cincy we spent the afternoon in the Hoosier town of Oldenburg, where German roots run deep and our curiosity abounded…
Throughout our road trips one of our favorite art categories is Municipal Objects That Aren’t Normally Painted Unless Someone Realizes They Totally Can. During our Oldenburg walkabout it took us a few minutes to notice each of their fire hydrants benefited from an artist’s touch. It’s been eight years since the last time we saw such a collection, which dotted the landscape of Chicago’s Navy Pier. Oldenburg’s hydrants are smaller, yet nonetheless decorative and presumably practical. We’re pretty sure we spotted merely a fraction of their total hydrants, but those we saw were cute.
The October 2023 Birthday Trip, Part 2 of 6: Welcome to Oldenburg
The Convent and Academy of the Immaculate Conception, built in the 1890s. Tours available only by appointment, which we didn’t have.
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover:
In addition to our annual road trips, my wife Anne and I have a twice-yearly tradition of spending our birthdays together, usually traveling to some new place or attraction as a short-term road trip — partly as an excuse to spend time together on those most wondrous days, partly to explore areas we’ve never experienced before. That’s every May for me and every October for her. We’re the Goldens. It’s who we are and what we do.
Anne knew what she wanted to do for this year’s birthday outing way back in July: see Patrick Stewart live on stage in Cincinnati. As previously recounted, we landed fourth-row seats and had a wonderful time. But Admiral Shakespeare’s grand tour wasn’t the only thing we did that weekend. Friday on our way from Indianapolis to Cincy we spent the afternoon in the Hoosier town of Oldenburg, where German roots run deep and our curiosity abounded. The two of us met in 1987 in high school German class. We can get sentimental sometimes when we’re reminded of that…
The town’s origins date back to 1837, when two speculators from the original Oldenburg in Germany bought land from a Virginia farmer who’d gotten there first. The duo drew up plans for a small community; other German immigrants joined them and founded its earliest establishments — its first church, a post office, a monastery, a convent, et al. Over time this new Oldenburg would amass a higher-than-average number of spires compared to the average Hoosier town, as expressed in their official three-spired crest that popped up here and there throughout our walk. The map that the Brat Haus waitress gave us was an unexpected and rather detailed surprise in annotating the various features and flourishes hither and yon. We’re not quite architecture geeks, but the brochure was a useful guide for our stroll around this pleasant autumn day.
The October 2023 Birthday Trip, Part 1 of 6: Two Lunches at Brau Haus
The lovely birthday gal who refuses to age.
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover: in addition to our annual road trips, my wife Anne and I have a twice-yearly tradition of spending our birthdays together, usually traveling to some new place or attraction as a short-term road trip — partly as an excuse to spend time together on those most wondrous days, partly to explore areas we’ve never experienced before. That’s every May for me and every October for her. We’re the Goldens. It’s who we are and what we do.
Anne knew what she wanted to do for this year’s birthday outing way back in July: see Patrick Stewart live on stage in Cincinnati. As previously recounted, we landed fourth-row seats and had a wonderful time. But Admiral Shakespeare’s grand tour wasn’t the only thing we did that weekend. Friday on our way from Indianapolis to Cincy we spent the afternoon in the Hoosier town of Oldenburg, where German roots run deep and our curiosity abounded. The two of us met in 1987 in high school German class. We can get sentimental sometimes when we’re reminded of that.
The Oldenburg prelude to the Stewart event wasn’t part of our original travel plan. Two weeks earlier, we’d stopped for lunch on the way to Cincinnati Comic Expo at a German diner my boss had strongly recommended. The Brau Haus is housed in the Stuerwald Building, which was built in 1860 as a general store and is one of eighty 19th-century places still standing to this day in their historic district. We loved the food and hospitality so much that we decided a Brau Haus encore would go great with our Cincinnati encore. That gave us two lunches’ worth of highlights to share, taken two weeks apart.
Yes, There Are Scenes During and After the “Blue Beetle” End Credits
If too few people see this action-packed gem in theaters, we fans will never stop calling it “criminally underrated” until the day you die.
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover: I’ve name-checked Blue Beetle ten times in past entries over eleven years. Four of those instances referred directly to Jaime Reyes, who inherited the mantle in 2006 from his Charlton Comics predecessors that DC bought in the early ’80s. Of those four, only once have I gratuitously yet heartily recommended Jaime’s original series, which began in the hands of co-creators Keith Giffen (R.I.P.), Leverage co-creator John Rogers, and artist Cully Hamner, and was carried expertly to the finish line by Rogers and Brazilian artist Rafael Albuquerque. I stopped reading subsequent Beetle books from other teams due to letdown. (If there’s been a grade-A Jaime story printed since 2012, I’m open to recommendations.)
Despite DC Comics’ big-screen misfires, their few rousing successes in recent times gave me the hope I needed to raise my expectations for the Blue Beetle film. I was thrilled by the film, and thrilled to be thrilled. Director Ángel Manuel Soto (Charm City Kings) and screenwriter Gareth Dunnet-Alcocer (Miss Bala) don’t try to reinvent the wheel, but their combined talents go a long way toward differentiating Jaime from the hundreds of other superheroes who reached the American mainstream first.
Our Heartland International Film Festival 2023 Photos, Memories and Afterthoughts
Jazz hands on the red carpet!
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover:
Since 1992 Indianapolis has held its own celebration of cinema with the Heartland International Film Festival, a multi-day, multi-theater marathon every October of documentaries, shorts, narrative features, and animated works made across multiple continents from myriad points of the human experience, usually with an emphasis on uplift and positivity. Ever since the “International” modifier was added in recent years, their acquisition team steadily escalated their game as they’ve recruited higher-profile projects into their lineups. For years my wife Anne and I have talked about getting into the spirit of the festivities. This year we will do better. The festival’s 32nd edition will run October 5-15. I’ve committed to at least five different Heartland showings — one of them virtual in-home, while the others will screen at four different theaters throughout central Indiana…
Mission accomplished! I saw six films in all, which is three times as many HIFF films as we’d seen in all previous years combined. That feeling of keeping my commitment felt rewarding in and of itself. Anne tagged along for four of those, while my son rode shotgun for another. That’s nowhere near as hyperactive as I get for my annual Oscar Quest movie marathons, but it’s an improvement.
Heartland International Film Festival 2023 Screening #6: “Avenue of the Giants”
With no official site and no trailer online, this is the only image available for this film on any entertainment hub that’s covered its film-festival tour.
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover:
Since 1992 Indianapolis has held its own celebration of cinema with the Heartland International Film Festival, a multi-day, multi-theater marathon every October of documentaries, shorts, narrative features, and animated works made across multiple continents from myriad points of the human experience, usually with an emphasis on uplift and positivity. Ever since the “International” modifier was added in recent years, their acquisition team steadily escalated their game as they’ve recruited higher-profile projects into their lineups. For years my wife Anne and I have talked about getting into the spirit of the festivities. This year we will do better. The festival’s 32nd edition will run October 5-15. I’ve committed to at least five different Heartland showings — one of them virtual in-home, while the others will screen at four different theaters throughout central Indiana…
We’ve now gone beyond “at least five” into festival overtime. Due to unfortunate circumstances beyond our control at our fifth feature presentation, we wound up with a free pass for one more film. I’d already driven 150 miles this week around central Indiana for cinema’s sake — in the midst of a normal 40-hour work week, mind you — and was burned out on driving, but Heartland also had dozens of new films available for virtual rental at home (our first film was among those). After digging through the entire list, I found a drama in Anne’s historical-aficionado wheelhouse of World War II in general and the European theater in particular.
Heartland International Film Festival 2023 Screening #5: “A Disturbance in the Force”
NEVER FORGET.
Longtime MCC readers may not be surprised to find this very special miniseries found a path toward Star Wars. We’re the Goldens. It’s who we are and what we do.
Unfortunately this also led to the worst theatrical experience we’ve had in years. For the record, this was not the filmmakers’ fault, but this entry was unwritable without being candid about that part.
Speaking of unfortunate viewing experiences…
Heartland International Film Festival 2023 Screening #4: “Monster”
“Parent v. School System” is sadly a conflict that transcends international boundaries.
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover:
Since 1992 Indianapolis has held its own celebration of cinema with the Heartland International Film Festival, a multi-day, multi-theater marathon every October of documentaries, shorts, narrative features, and animated works made across multiple continents from myriad points of the human experience, usually with an emphasis on uplift and positivity. Ever since the “International” modifier was added in recent years, their acquisition team steadily escalated their game as they’ve recruited higher-profile projects into their lineups. For years my wife Anne and I have talked about getting into the spirit of the festivities. This year we will do better. The festival’s 32nd edition will run October 5-15. I’ve committed to at least five different Heartland showings — one of them virtual in-home, while the others will screen at four different theaters throughout central Indiana…
Thanks to Heartland I’ve finally seen my very first film by acclaimed Japanese filmmaker Hirokazu Kore-eda. Years ago Shoplifters was in my Hulu queue for about ten minutes before it disappeared, because Hulu isn’t the best service for movies. My son saw that one as well as Nobody Knows and After Life, so he had an advantage over me as we watched Kore-eda’s latest drama, Monster. I have no basis for comparison, but my son thinks Monster might be his favorite Kore-eda film yet.
Midlife Crisis Crossover! 