Dunkirk

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Dunkirk. It is tremendous. Couldn't look away for even a sliver of a moment. Out of all of Christopher Nolan movies I've seen, I'd rank this at the top. One thing that did him a favor is that the dialogue is so minimal. A trim, direct story so he can focus on the construction. I love the layered stories – the boat scenes being my favorites – that are racing to meet at the end, which we know with hindsight is only a beginning. I haven't updated my Christopher Nolan power rankings in a while, so...

  1. Dunkirk
  2. Interstellar
  3. Memento
  4. The Prestige
  5. The Dark Knight
  6. The Dark Knight Rises
  7. Batman Begins
  8. Insomnia
  9. Following
  10. Inception

That feels right for now.

It Comes at Night

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It Comes at Night. It's great! Movies like this remind you of what a simple, almost primal pleasure it is just to watch how light fills and moves through a dark place. I also like that it doesn't bother with answers about the general state of the world, and doesn't waste time with half-hearted attempts. People seek and accept what's practical, and move on. Backstory is irrelevant to a degree. The red door in the house – like a church, perhaps? I've really come to love this survival-cabin subgenre. Other recent ones that are worth a look: 10 Cloverfield Lane, Into the Forest, Z for Zachariah. What else?

I Am Not Your Negro

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I Am Not Your Negro. I liked it a lot. Just the premise – a movie rendition of an unfinished book – is such an interesting way to start. I've heard similar formulations before, but two ideas in here really stuck with me. One, his comments during an interview that, while he may not know what whites believe, he can see the state of our institutions (church, work, real estate, etc.). They tell you something you cannot deny. Second, his prompt to ask ourselves why the negro was invented. Black people didn't come up with it. It's a white invention to fill some need – one worth examining. Recommended. Filed under: documentaries.

Bras on Instagram

I really liked Lauren Hallden's Towards a Bra-Free Instagram Experience. It made me start to wonder about the effects of a social medium when it thinks you are something... but you are not that. Every so often I've noticed an account can stumble into a sort of algorithmic death spiral. I remember years back when I foolishly gave The Great Gatsby five stars on Amazon, and for months on end it thoughtfully suggested classic after classic after classic after classic. I guess that's to be expected. But what's get interesting is that somehow it's not just an annoyance – I don't use the suggestions that much – but it also feels like a wrong worth correcting, a sense of identity betrayed. And I have to try to convince the black box that this is what I'm about. I've spent my fair share of time on Instagram, and don't really regret it much. Perhaps that's because the channel isn't as emotionally charged as others can be. But I recently removed the Instagram app from my phone, just as a little experiment. I still log in every now and then on the iPad to see what's up. (By the way, Instagram via iPad web browser is so much better than the iPhone app it's crazy. There also seem to be fewer ads?) This removal is also part of a re-RSSing (and re-assessing) project I've been trying to do. If I check comething a lot, find a feed. If I think about a topic a lot, find the feeds. Instagram doesn't have any built-in feeds that I know of, but you can cobble something together through various means (for example). So far I like this approach. I see only what I wanted – and I miss what they think I wanted. I'm okay with this. This product manager idea of "discovery" has never ranked high on my list, and I don't miss content-hopping down the bottomless pit. That's what Twitter is for.