As an avid fan of the growing video essay industry it gives me great pleasure to say that one of its most passionate and long running creators, Kogonada, has made an admirable transition to feature film in his pleasant little debut, Columbus.
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You look in the mirror when you wake up in the morning and feel a deep, chilling sense of philosophical dread. Maybe you should consider adopting the great philosophy of stoicism to help you get through your exhausting life.
The typical Thunderbird doesn’t fly to Hastings-Sunrise very often. In the northeast corner of Vancouver, it’s as far from campus as you can get (without stepping on SFU turf). Luckily “as far as you can get” in Vancouver is about an-hour bus ride, and while Hastings-Sunrise is primarily residential, this relaxed corner of town is well worth the visit.
Most of the time, sports movies tend to be cliché, overproduced piles of trash trying to hard to be the next Friday Night Lights or Hoosiers. While it’s great to watch a good old fashioned underdog story every now and then it gets old pretty quick. Borg Vs. McEnroe set out to change that and nailed it.
When documentary makers venture out to remote and far away places, the challenges triple. While some filmmakers try to compensate and overproduce their film in an attempt to make things more understandable, the initial reason and passion behind the documentary fades away.
I’ve never gone to a party and chosen to stay sober. Drinking, to me, is the essence of partying, the party’s real core. On nights when I haven’t felt like drinking, I’ve stayed in. Simple as that.
Black Cop, by Canadian director Cory Bowles, is pretty much what it says on the tin – the story of an African-American man who works as a police officer.
On the summit of Mount Precipice, Adam — a down-and-out Arab-Christian entrepreneur and expectant father — sits in his car, a trail of marijuana smoke rising from the sunroof, when a crowd of tourists pass by.
With accuracy and great beauty, Call Me By Your Name (CMBYN) captures the experience of a languid, over-long summer. It’s the 1980s, somewhere in idyllic Northern Italy. Oliver (Armie Hammer) is an American academic and guest in Elio Perlman's home.
If you’ve spent any time on Facebook, Twitter, or Youtube you’ve seen them. Taco Bell copycat crunchwrap supremes and jalapeno corn poppers. Tinker Bell cupcakes and unicorn dip. Caramel apple cheese balls and Oreogasm skillet brownies.
They called me at eleven on a Monday night. After the customary argument, I capitulated, and soon I found myself in a tiki bar with four boys, drinking with a two-foot-long straw out of a shared booze bowl in which floated flaming limes.
Since Canada Day on July 1, over 7,000 migrants have claimed asylum in Quebec alone — many of them Haitians who fear their status of “temporary protection” in the US will soon come to an end.
UBC is a cage, and not just for the Thunderbirds. After a couple months the campus feels like how Buchanan Tower looks; plain, imposing, and vaguely Stalinist.
My first period was a lot like the opening scene of Saving Private Ryan, except Tom Hanks wasn’t there.
This is what a good part of my First Year looked like: staring at a computer screen most nights, sitting alone in my room talking to someone who isn’t even there, lots of crying, lots of fighting. It’s not a pretty picture and, unfortunately, I was the only one to blame for that.