what we missed

The director of an indie horror classic shares his appreciation for a new classic – and explains why it made him want to punch a kitten in the balls.

The Texas filmmaker writes a letter to the director of her favorite film of 2015.

The horror directing great is shaken by a troubling (but horribly familiar) premise and two phenomenal central performances.

The even-keeled (and unerringly polite) writer-director finally surrenders himself to Pixar and dives into a world of emotions.

Miguel’s libidinous album is a musical portrayal of intimacy that expertly parallels the stylistic shifts and complexities of sexuality itself.

Our writer feels kinship with Blink-182’s drummer, but the themes of desire, guilt and redemption in Travis Barker’s memoir will resonate with anyone.

This album functions great as a record of performance; it’s like you have seats with an extremely obstructed view, but you’re still enjoying yourself.

This record harks back to the ‘90s while simultaneously reassuring the listener that they’re not alone in their millennial confusion.

The thought of taking on this record made our writer flinch and blush and feel uncomfortable — but it also made him excited.

Our middle-aged writer takes on the massive boy band's latest—but turns down the iPod lest any music leak out and people think he's creepy and mental.

The awards season is inevitably a time when certain films are showered with praise and plaudits, but many worthier movies slip by unnoticed.

Who could be better to write about this Oscar contender than a filmmaker who used to be a wrestler?