Dreams That Wander Too Far: From Plato to The Further

Cinema, despite its thunderous claims to originality, is in truth a great necromancer. It raises the dead more often than it invents the living, and its spirits wear borrowed costumes even when paraded as new. When James Wan and Leigh Whannell conjured Insidious, they weren’t scribbling out some pristine mythology in a Hollywood boardroom but … Continue reading Dreams That Wander Too Far: From Plato to The Further

Conclave – or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Accept the End of Western Storytelling

I made the mistake -the blunder - of watching Conclave the other evening. A decision roughly on par with licking a battery to see if it’s working. It wasn’t entertainment. It was a two-hour slow-motion shrug, like watching a dying man cough into a linen napkin. Now, I’d been seduced, you see. Hoodwinked by the timing. A … Continue reading Conclave – or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Accept the End of Western Storytelling

Pebbles, Prose, and Pointlessness: Beckett’s Molloy and the Art of Going Nowhere

Question: have you ever sucked a pebble? Samuel Beckett’s Molloy is often heralded as a towering monument of modernist literature, though whether it’s a lighthouse of enlightenment or an impassable granite slab is a matter of perspective. This novel, the first in Beckett’s famous trilogy, plunges us into a world where sucking stones takes on existential significance … Continue reading Pebbles, Prose, and Pointlessness: Beckett’s Molloy and the Art of Going Nowhere