A musical about stage management that is an achievement in stunning set decoration, Ken Russel’s The Boy Friend throws back to just the compelling and stagey parts of the old musicals, cuts out the filler, and yet amplifies all the other characteristics — a dazzling theatrical series of numbers are full of delight in design, and moderately move the movie through a very simple love story. It goes for a long time but everything you have to look at is so worth seeing.

Every now and then you find that indescribable thing. A movie where everything works and the style cohesively informs the content and vice versa, that actionable je ne sais quoi where all the pieces fit organically and you do not have to explain the puzzle: it exists as it is, you know only by seeing and feeling it. That’s how A Moment of Romance feels, a movie where everything goes right all of the time and it feels so good to watch anything like that.

I like when constraints and limited access to tools of the trade result in heightened creativity. Here, using a hand reel, the young filmmakers have to shoot in short increments. In those increments they always make use of the camera, knowing how brief their window can be. Or, they just have an array of bullets playing over finely-thought-out action scenes. Sometimes rudimentary, doesn’t actually make very much sense, but is rather pleasant and with under a hundred watches per this platform, is the definition of under-seen.

MOVIES ARE FUCKING AWESOME.

Lightweight neo-noir in the desert with plentiful overacting and low, low-budget stylization. Comes together nicely although the moment-to-moment whole of the movie is not always pleasant. Well shot indie with a kind of perspective and lightweight Coen-riffing style. Glad to have found it through a marathon among friends, as I would not have found it myself.

Schlocky ‘80s cheese that plays in that unserious ‘80s way, as a vehicle for montage and music video, rather than as a device for coherent story, plot, themes, motifs, direction, acting, or anything else. An oddity peculiar enough you might watch through the soapy sleaze anyway, looking for it’s crystal heart.

After brushing against the prospect of watching Junk Head at several film festivals, my hunger for the film has been cooking. And now we’re eating, cause Junk Head is a delectably animated stop-motion treat, unlike much of anything besides the excellent Mad God, which is itself, unlike just about anything else. The film is stunning and visuals-forward, the plot not even really surfacing besides just what the visual representation can be, and even in this mixture, it has a great sense of feeling and character.

Bloodmoon is consistently fun as a mega-entertaining movie about fights because the fight concepts rotate with every piece of action. This keeps the film, and an audience, on their toes, and creates this extra sense of creativity, where you could be watching an ECW hero like Rob Van Dam in some fisticuffs or some swords that spark every time they make contact. The cuts are also well chosen and while straightforward, it’s a very fun time with the right mind for this style of action cinema.

Jerry Lewis’ final directorial feature is my primer to his work. What it reveals to me is a mad kind of comedy genius that lays down all the cards. This is a workable out-of-context watch too, because it is so generous in its spirit — and laughter — and always lets us in on the joke. It is clever but also willing to just be silly enough to always go for the laugh line. Because it almost always succeeds, it’s a real gem of a cut-up, so scattered and structureless, because it is designed for jokes only.

Like a floating dream of a movie, you’ll remember the colors and some last minute violence, and the rest is just the ride to get there. Doesn’t especially move me, but fine with friends, and sometimes aesthetic.

I ate the best burrito ever, talked with some of my favorite people about this movie that has more than ten movies in it, and have a really good headache.