Thor: Ragnarok is “the best Marvel movie of all time.” That’s something you might have heard the past few weeks. And this ultimate claim of pre-eminence isn’t something I’m going to outright dispute, though I’m not sure if Thor: Ragnarok is that much better than Spider-Man: Homecoming. Even if you’re of this dominant sliver of
There’s nothing more magical in modern cinema–no all of man’s great works of art–than Tom Cruise propelling himself forward on those little legs.
I was leaning over a tall table after a short but generous brewery tour. The novelty of ordering a ‘Ghost King’ was slowly wearing off. I was feeling less and less like a character in fantasy novel. So I asked my companions if they thought Alison Brie (Community, Mad Men, Save the Date) would ever be a
Chris Pratt is money. He’s the biggest movie star on the planet. Pratt is the first star since Arnold Schwarzenegger (Total Recall (1990), Terminator 2 (1991) to front the biggest movie of the summer, back to back. Pratt is as hot as Melisandre on the Wall, as Steph Curry, as The O.C. circa 2003-4. If I was writing a script
By now, you’ve scoured the world wide web. You want it to all be make believe. It was just a dream, you muttered this morning. You google, “Is Jon Snow really dead?”
And hope for the best.