Greta Gerwig’s characters are real, flawed people whose struggles and successes aren’t all that different from those I faced at my all-girls high school.
I have never seen a movie more true to experience at an all-girls Catholic high school than Greta Gerwig’s Lady Bird.
Invasion and destruction aren’t the experiences new mothers expect.
Religious horror is a film genre in its own right, and Rosemary’s Baby and The Exorcist are among my all-time favorites. But even horror movies that aren’t explicitly religious stoke my religious imagination, exploring questions of who suffers and why and to what end. The best aren’t the goriest but rather those that articulate or give shape to our deepest unseen fears.
We’re all doing the best we can, but is it enough to get us to the ‘good place’?
“Who was right?”
It’s one of the first questions Eleanor Shellstrop (Kristen Bell) asks after arriving in the afterlife, curious about how her new surroundings work. Her guide, an immortal being named Michael (Ted Danson), explains, “Every religion got it about 5 percent right. It’s not the heaven or hell idea you were raised on, but generally speaking, in the afterlife there’s a good place and a bad place.”
‘Coco’ celebrates the Mexican Day of the Dead.
Pixar Animation Studios’ new release Coco tells the story of young musical hopeful, Miguel, whose family bars music from the house after a grandfather abandons the family to follow a musical career generations earlier. The plucky Miguel (voiced by Anthony Gonzalez) has no choice but to sing and strum his guitar quietly in the attic of one of the rooms where his family lives in the bustling town of Santa Cecilia, Mexico. There, alone with his guitar and street dog Dante, Miguel plays along to VCR recordings of mid-century heartthrob Ernesto de la Cruz.
An impoverished childhood spent near Magic Kingdom shows that reality and mystery are both important.
Kids are seen and heard a lot in The Florida Project, set during one hot, sticky summer in a $35-a-night motel near that true Orlando resort Walt Disney World.
The title of Angela Alaimo O’Donnell’s new volume is both a paradox and an invitation.
by Angela Alaimo O’Donnell (Paraclete Press, 2017)
The title Still Pilgrim is both a paradox and an invitation. As Christians we are called to be pilgrims—to move and journey both within and outside ourselves—and yet we are also called to contemplate. Angela Alaimo O’Donnell quotes both T. S. Eliot and Psalm 46 to show that stillness is a deliberate action in an endlessly moving world. In O’Donnell’s poems, stillness means devotion.
Timothy O’Malley’s new book answers questions about the Mass you didn’t even know you had.
Growing up my parents made me and my siblings go to Mass every Sunday. As a teenager I remember thinking it was way too much church. Most of my friends didn’t go to church at all. They went waterskiing in the summer, snow skiing in the winter, or just hung out on Sundays and slept in. And yet there I was in church praying the Lord’s Prayer for the 1000th time while my little brother painfully squeezed my hand.
‘Anne with an E’ explores the complexities and nuances of female adolescence.
Judging by the stories media tell us, boys are the only humans perplexed by puberty. Film and television tales of moving from adolescence to adulthood focus primarily on young men, as though girls did not also lurch awkwardly toward maturity. Think of Boyhood, The Sandlot, Stand By Me, This Boy’s Life, Almost Famous, Big, The Summer of ’42, Breaking Away.
The United States is still waiting to hear if black lives matter.
Entirely too much attention has been paid this year to the 50th anniversary of the 1967 “Summer of Love.” That’s when a small fraction of America’s white youth deranged itself and outraged its elders with a very public fit of drug-induced self-indulgence. But in black America, 1967 was a summer of uprisings as African Americans reacted to decades of police brutality with a display of long-suppressed rage. In city after city—from Houston to Newark—the rebellions bubbled up.
‘The Little Hours,’ the recent film that fixates on nuns having fun, isn’t all that funny.
Even the Old Testament writers—not generally thought of as a funny lot—knew the healing power of humor:
“A cheerful heart is a good medicine,” says the book of Proverbs (17:22).