I had a tutor in university who was a total cunt. Like irredeemable, one of the worst people you could ever meet. Like a total self-absorbed bastard, the sort whose lectures take rough and wild swings into total self-aggrandisement when you’re just trying to get your learning done.
Most Beautiful Island starts promising. About the experience of undocumented immigrants in New York Ciy, it’s a bunch of long lens shots of these women walking about. Picked out of the public, these shots hold for an uncomfortable time, only due to their lengths do you manage to discern the subject. There is this uncanny feeling of predation, the city about to swallow these people up. Or maybe, topically over the past year, the fear of those ICE squads that may come at you if you have a foreign sounding accent, the fear of being undocumented in Trump’s America.
I have been losing my grandmother for a while now. It’s not something you’re really aware of on the day to day but I think back to six months ago, maybe a year and she seems so less present that she was before.
If there be one thing The Florida Project keeps conspicuously absent from its frames, it is Disney. The film is set on the fringes of Disney World Florida in the underserved, underassisted world of the long term American poor.
I suppose we all have our gets. It don’t really matter how saccharine or whitewashy or manipulative queer historical fiction gets, I will always be onboard.