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From a vintage car show along Regent Street this past weekend.
Noirish 1950s cynicism meets nasty 1970s Corman-esque exploitation in a thriller that is uncomfortable, unpleasant, unforgiving, and pretty darn brilliant.
None of this episode makes any damn sense at all.
Spotted in the window of the Anya Hindmarch boutique on Bond Street.
Thrilling intellectually and viscerally, full of stirring notions of what humanity is capable of, and full of hope. A wonderfully refreshing sort of SF.
Utterly empty. It’s aware of the tropes of the new mythos of alien abductions, but makes no attempt to find anything even the slightest bit fresh in them.
This is no stuffy costume drama but a richly lived-in visit to early-19th-century England that is rough, bawdy, often funny, and more often unsettling.
What the river may have looked like two hundred years ago… apart from the skyscrapers of Canary Wharf in the background. (From a recent tall-ships festival at Greenwich.)
Click here for a larger version.
I would not obey these driving instructions…
Serious film fans will appreciate the 4K restoration of this 1939 French melodrama, which has been all but unseen for 75 years.
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