My One and Only (review)
What could have been a maddening portrait of spoiled self-entitlement is, instead, a plucky tale about how tough life could be a woman, even a beautiful one, in the 1950s…
What could have been a maddening portrait of spoiled self-entitlement is, instead, a plucky tale about how tough life could be a woman, even a beautiful one, in the 1950s…
2nd UPDATE: This week is turning insane. I’ve just added screenings of Jennifer’s Body (opens in the U.S. on September 18, and in the U.K. on November 6) — the Megan Fox-as-not-just-high-school-evil flick — and another upcoming movie that I’ve been asked not to say anything about yet (but I’ll let know more as soon … more…
Of course, most respected anthropologists and biologists recognize that the New World Vampire, or *vampirus americanus*, differs greatly from the European species, or *vampirus continentalus*, but few films have recognized that the wide-open spaces of the U.S. produce a vastly altered creature than Europe’s dense urban spaces or intimate, if remote, medieval villages. But years before John Carpenter and the team of Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez documented the vampires that dwell in the lonely stretches of the Americas, the criminally underappreciated ethnographer Kathryn Bigelow did it — spookily, grimly, hilariously, gloriously — with 1987’s *Near Dark,* in which a coven of nasty bloodsuckers roam the deserted American Southwest.