A prurient and nasty film with deeply conservative undercurrents. REQUIEM not only cannot comprehend the anti-capitalist message of the original ALIEN but transforms the (sub-)franchise into something horribly regressive in service of cutting the Xenomorph down into a monster from a generic slasher movie and symbolically punishing the people on the lowest rungs of neoliberal society.

Nakedly militaristic propaganda made by a military-entertainment complex secure in its sense of victory in the interregnum between the fall of the Berlin Wall and the collapse of the USSR.

Enigmatically enticing as a little crystallisation of mid-Anderson aesthetic. Would work better standalone.

It’s easy to read THE DARJEELING LIMITED as self-indulgent: three wealthy white American men searching for a spiritual experience in a culture with which they make no effort to engage.

In this final Robinson film, Patrick Keiller examines capitalism as a lichen that has spread out from its origins in England outward to infect the entire world.

Fortunately for our podcast, it’s more interesting to discuss this film than it is to watch it. The film itself is bland and generic with paper-thin characters, a frankly unappealing visual aesthetic, and dialogue that could have been spat out by a machine-learning model.

An intelligent thriller that trusts its audience to understand that every character both believes they are doing the right thing and are also continually questioning that belief.

I went into this rewatch thinking that this might drop in my Wes Anderson ranking. If anything, I’m considering moving it higher.

A considered depiction of a home that has become a prison—with many other prisons inside it. Nested like Russian dolls inside the prison of the couple’s modernist James Melvin house are the prison of their marriage, the prison of the family they never had, the prison of their artistic careers, and, most significantly, the prison they’ve built between them of how they interact with one another, as if their marriage were an artistic project rather than an emotional engagement.

Until the film’s final scene, I would have said that this is, surprisingly, Wes Anderson’s most anti-capitalist film: the contrast between the coldly metallic heavy industrialisation of Boggis, Bunce, and Bean’s farms and the warm autumnal palette of the animals’ home; Mr.