I wish this hadn’t been Leo’s year to win the Best Actor Oscar, because Eddie Redmayne is so heartbreakingly good in this movie, I can’t handle it.
I’m frankly kind of exhausted just trying to decide which topic to rant about.
Here we get to be as loud as we want, scream out the shittiness of not loving someone anymore, of becoming boring in someone else’s heart.
There’s something particularly marvelous in reading a book about an actual time and an actual art movement in which the female figures come naturally to the fore.
A good dick joke makes everyone laugh, but a good vagina joke tends to just make people feel uncomfortable.
Sweeping violin, round, slow drums, little threads of plinky piano pile up on top of one another…
The list could go on for miles, but I’ve chosen ten.