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Tatum Shines as a Lovable Scamp in Cianfrance’s Surprisingly Warm ‘ROOFMAN’

One of our great modern melodramatists, Derek Cianfrance, a man seemingly born to make the most depressing movie of any given year, has switched gears to deliver something surprisingly warm and crowd-pleasing with Roofman. His earlier filmography is littered with bone-rattlingly bleak, yet always deeply involving works: a relationship splintering in real time in Blue Valentine; the generational sins of a dirtbag father rippling across years in The Place Beyond the Pines; and a doomed seafaring romance in The Light Between Oceans. The Canadian filmmaker knows how to wring tears and leave audiences emotionally concussed. That’s not to say Roofman, his first feature in nearly a decade, doesn’t have its share of moral murk and dramatic heft, it’s just the first time one of his films has felt genuinely nice. Read More

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‘SOUND OF METAL’ a Blaring Ode to Reshaped Identity 

There is little in the world more violent to your hearing than a drum set. I can attest to that fact from personal experience. Starting from a wee middle schooler on a janky kit and building out my skill and hardware into high school and throughout college, I played drums in too many bands to count. Stuffed into basements, tight rehearsal spaces, and cobbled practice rooms, playing bars, sweaty venues and ill-acoustic’ed house parties, the young musician that I was was nevertheless opposed to earplugs. It muffled the sound. Made it harder to sync with the rest of the rhythm section. Killed the raw unbridled thrash of it all. Of the sprawling army of musicians I have played with over the years, too many have adopted this same misguided mantra: earplugs just aren’t rock and roll.  Read More

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Out in Theaters: ‘THE LIGHT BETWEEN OCEANS’

With The Light Between Oceans, Derek Cianfrance (Blue Valentine) fancies himself both a ballerina and a first responder. The fine line between drippy sentimentality and earnest adult drama is a tightrope that Cianfrance tip-toes with all the testy bravado of Philippe Petie, loading his screen with moody tableaus of bereaved faces and decadent sealand landscapes. With great finesse, he probes the dour depths of the human spirit, framing a lurid moral no-no within a heartrending saga of romantic turmoil. Bottling the melancholy and adding pathos-laden Mentos until it erupts into a geyser of emotion, he applies the jaws of life to his audience, breaks open the collective chest cavity, steals your heart and tap dances all up on it. Read More