One of you kind weirdoes paid sixty five dollars for me to write about a 1987 teen sex comedy about a 27-year-old stockbroker trying not to commit statutory rape with a 17 year old at the high school he’s hiding out at. Oh well. Still way less creepy than most 1980s teen sex comedies.
Read MoreA half century on, Sam Peckinpah’s incendiary 1969 masterpiece The Wild Bunch remains as magnificent and deeply troubling as ever.
Read MoreOne of you kind sadists paid me one hundred dollars to write about 1933’s Gabriel Over the White House, a look at the oft-overlooked positive side of Fascism and dictatorships.
Read MoreOne of you generous sadists paid me to watch a seminal 1972 Rapture exploitation movie that (SPOILER) failed to make me a believer.
Read MoreOne of y’all kind sadists paid me one hundred dollars to see and talk about a 1989 Hungarian-American Felix the Cat movie that, honestly, is pretty fucked up.
Read MoreOne of you kind souls paid me to watch and write about ALL of Sam Peckinpah’s movies, including 1965’s Major Dundee, a sort of dry run for The Wild Bunch starring Charlton Heston as an obsessed soldier out for redemption and vengeance.
Read MoreMany, many years after the release of SLC Punk!, a Matthew Lillard-free sequel was released to deafening silence that one of you kind souls paid me one hundred dollars to suffer through.
Read MoreSam Peckinpah’s career as a Western auteur kicked into his gear with his brilliant second film, the achingly sad, beautiful 1962 western Ride the High Country, which gave long in the tooth cowpokes Randolph Scott and Joel McCrea obscenely juicy roles to play.
Read MoreOne of you kind souls paid me seventy five dollars to re-experience Dick Tracy, the cinematic sensation of 1990 and a delightful exercise in escapism that holds up pretty damn well.
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