"A sinister cabal of superior writers."
Pat Padua bridges high-brow and low-brow to form a distinctive American pan-browism. He hears the voices cry out from the Western Canon to Justin Timberlake, and, with an arsenal of optical tools ranging from disposable message cameras to the sharpest Hassy glass, he coaxes out the voices with a visual acuity akin to shamanism. "A talented, if quirky, photographer," in the words of the Washington Post, Padua has exhibited his photographs in San Francisco and Baltimore, as well as in his home town of Washington DC. His astute criticism of music and cinema has appeared in the All Music Guide and Cinescene.com.
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Students of photography and observers of modern Japan alike will find this well worth their time.
A beautifully photographed but ultimately unconvincing depiction of the ill-fated pioneer expedition.
Fans of photographer Henri Cartier-Bresson may be glad he made these films, but they will be even more grateful that he never gave up his Leica.
Terrible transfers and a persistent watermark on all the films; do not spend your precious B-movie ducats on this Z-grade box set.
A frequently uneasy time that won't win the artist any converts. But as a well-produced document, fans will find it essential viewing.
A remarkably constructed and deathly dry comedy, but as an observation of the human condition, a bit soulless.
Martin McDonagh's new play is a self-conscious exercise in creeping Tarantinoism.
A Hallmark Channel original romantic comedy that isn't half bad, unless that's the cabin fever talking.
A stylish and overblown adapatation of a hard-boiled author's lesser work.
The beautiful people are boring.
