Tenaglia and Bourdain manage to create a cohesive character piece that takes a personal and honest look into the life story of a culinary icon.
Song to Song is a movie about relationships in all its forms: familial, platonic, romantic, etc. It is about the mistakes we make and the uncertainties we face in life.
Hidden Figures follows the struggle of three African American women working for NASA in the 1960s. Even faced with rampant sexism and racism at work and in society, with dogged perseverance and a firm belief in themselves, they overcome barrier after barrier. Don't worry, that's not a spoiler. That our plucky protagonists will emerge victorious is no surprise in this feel-good dramatization of historical events.
Like any good Disney movie worth its salt, Moana tethers its lighthearted comedy and rousing action to a central, uplifting theme.
The film follows Ea, God’s disgruntled 10-year-old daughter, who is of course, Jesus Christ’s (JC for short) younger sister. Groyne instills each dead-eyed stare with both weariness and willfulness, playing the role with a quiet gravity that belies her age. Her voice-over narrations are pitch perfect, too, in their monotonous tone and quintessentially blasé teenage demeanor.
The MIT List Visual Arts Center’s newest exhibition, Written in Smoke and Fire, feels as diverse and free-formed as the many sources of inspiration that artist Edgar Arceneaux is known to traditionally draw upon. A contemporary artist hailing from Los Angeles, Arceneaux often finds inspiration in history, science fiction, social movements, philosophy, and architecture, for the creation of his immersive installations that artfully synthesize diverse media like video, sculpture, and painting together.
Wit is a tour de force of human experience that dares to pose difficult questions about life, death, and the uncertainty of human mortality
Contingent on a successful suspension of disbelief, Arrival delivers a thought provoking and understated drama with an astonishing denouement.
Blood, death, dirt, flames, and shattered bodies arc across the screen in a depraved, slow-motion waltz of wartime gore that is sickeningly captivating.
Almost every single seat in MIT’s intimate Killian Hall recital space was filled last Tuesday, Oct. 4, 2016, for Grammy-award winning tenor saxophonist Joe Lovano’s performance.
Being a teenager is hard. While experiences may vary for each individual, most are at least familiar with the idea of the angst-ridden, hyper-aware emotional upheaval that the stereotypical adolescent experiences.
North Korea is a black box that always seems to be lurking in the news with headlines that range from the shocking to the downright bizarre. The Lovers and the Despot, directed by Rob Cannan and Ross Adams, straddles both the shocking and the bizarre as this documentary unpacks the compelling true-crime story of Kim Jong-Il’s kidnapping of famed South Korean actress Choi Eun-Hee and her ex-husband, the accomplished South Korean director/producer Shin Sang-Ok.
Picture a small, dusty town evocative of the American Wild West. Now, in lieu of cowboys, gunslingers, and rugged beards, imagine a small pack of women milling around town aimlessly, leaning dramatically against pillars, and stretching theatrically atop ladders, all while dressed in the finest haute couture more appropriate on a Milan or Paris runway rather than in the Australian Outback. It is precisely this sort of visual and contextual dissonance successfully powering the darkly comedic engine of The Dressmaker, an Australian film directed by Jocelyn Moorhouse, that keeps the viewer engrossed and laughing for the majority of its 118-minute runtime.