
Eileen G'Sell
Articles
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Oct 9, 2024 |
reverseshot.org | Eileen G'Sell |Eileen G’Sell
Empty Vessels By Eileen G’Sell New York Film Festival 2024: Transamazonia Pia Marais, France/Germany/Switzerland/Taiwan/Brazil, no distributor Moonlit mosquito nets soft as ghosts. Ants swarming a muddy hand. A naked man screaming down an unpaved road. A lace peter-pan collar beneath a young girl’s lacerated face.
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Aug 9, 2024 |
reverseshot.org | Eileen G'Sell
Father Time By Eileen G’Sell Daughters Dir. Natalie Rae and Angela Patton, U.S., Netflix A black-and-white montage flashes clips of girls primping for a formal affair—pulling up stockings, clasping a string of pearls, fastening the strap to a silver Mary Jane. The image is grainy, and the frame is shrunk to resemble a Super 8 reel. Strings trill and piano keys tinkle. One by one, the girls peer out the windows of the bus that will take them to a line of freshly shaven and suited men.
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Jul 15, 2024 |
brightwalldarkroom.com | Eileen G'Sell |Eileen G’Sell
The summer of 1999, I saw Tom Tykwer’s Run Lola Run twice on the big screen. This was unusual—not only for the lack of student rates at the local art house theater, but because my teen years were hardly marked by the cinephilia of my adulthood, let alone a penchant for foreign-language titles.
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May 31, 2024 |
reverseshot.org | Eileen G'Sell |Eileen G’Sell
Good Griefs By Eileen G’Sell Handling the Undead Dir. Thea Hvistendahl, Norway, NEON There are times when loss is so terrifying, so brutally eviscerating, that only the horror genre can do it justice. Natalie Erika James’s Relic (2020) and Jennifer Kent’s The Babadook (2014) are but two films from the past decade in which the supernatural allows us (sometimes literally) to peel back the skin of our own mortality and peek at the darkness beneath.
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May 30, 2024 |
chroni.cl | Eileen G'Sell |Keith Negley |Eileen G’Sell
My co-instructor and I knew we had our work cut out for us. The seminar was “Modern Media: The Good, the Bad, and the Future” — and our students were arguably closer to the material than we were. I’m an Xennial raised on TGIF sitcomsand Christopher Pike paperbacks. In high school, I sent saucy Hotmail messages to a crush at a rival school while the nuns at my Catholic school taught us PageMaker.
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