Eileen Jones is a film critic at Jacobin, host of the Filmsuck podcast, and author of Filmsuck, USA.
In films like Annihilation and Ex Machina, director Alex Garland knows how to make the end of the world look majestic. But his new show, Devs, gives a grace and dignity to the apocalypse that you won’t find in our own world.
From the end of World War I through the 1970s, filmmakers around the world experimented with film form in the hopes of awakening a new political consciousness. Why did that dream die?
We still can’t believe the Academy, a notoriously hidebound institution, awarded four Oscars to Parasite, an explicitly anticapitalist movie. But we’ll take it.
No, it’s not “so bad it’s good” — Cats is a beloved Broadway musical turned into a $100 million Hollywood freak show.
With its starchy girl-power message and Meryl Streepish prestige, Little Women is bound to be a hot contender for critics’ awards, Oscars, and Golden Globes. But don’t be fooled: it’s a bad movie.
Martin Scorsese’s recent comments bashing superhero movies provoked a torrent of outrage. But the real issue isn’t Marvel movies — it’s a funding model that prioritizes easy blockbusters over riskier, daring films.
Everyone knows Frank Capra’s It’s a Wonderful Life, but it was director Preston Sturges who captured the volatile reality of success, failure, and the American dream.
The brilliance of Parasite doesn’t lie in any political allegory it weaves, but instead in its depiction of the cruel realities of trying to make it in a capitalist system set against you. Everyone should go see it.
Melodrama was an ultra-popular entertainment form of the Gilded Age. It seems fitting, then, that in 2019, we have returned to the genre in Joker.
Moral panics about provocative films like ‘Joker’ are as old as cinema itself. But more often than not, they’re just proof of a film’s merit — and of a deeply anxious middle class.
On HBO’s new tragicomedy, a veteran plumbs the depths of his combat record for the stage — but ends up painting a portrait of middle-American desolation.
In Once Upon a Time . . . in Hollywood, Quentin Tarantino is continuing his creative endeavor of engaging popular film forms and alternate-history structures to reimagine points of terrible disturbance in our collective past.
In case you’ve never tried to buy a home, I should warn you: if you’re not affluent, you’re heading into a world of pain.
Life in America sucks. Average people are constantly wronged and have little recourse to justice. That’s why it’s so satisfying to watch Keanu Reeves kick everyone’s ass over and over in the John Wick movies.
Mike Leigh had plenty of material to make an exciting and historically accurate film about the Peterloo massacre. He made a boring one instead.
Jordan Peele’s “Get Out” was a masterpiece. “Us” is a tedious drag tailored to the sensibilities of critics.
The Academy Awards were even more of a shitshow than usual this year. This is Jacobin’s last Oscars article, because we will find better things to do with our lives than watch that garbage.
Vice reminds us of the hell Dick Cheney wrought, with help from a rogue’s gallery of perps, hacks, creeps, and fall guys.
In If Beale Street Could Talk, the ugliness of oppression and persecution stand in tense contrast with Barry Jenkins’ lush, color-drenched cinematography.
Despite generations of imperial murder, torture, rape, and plunder, the British ruling class still gets the brown-nose treatment in historical depictions. Not so in The Favourite, where the royals are shown as the disgusting creatures they were and still are.