Personal opinions and commentary.
Three hundred and twenty-six hours. When I started writing this, that is how much time my boyfriend has put into Enter The Gungeon, the freshman effort from indie developer Dodge Roll Games. By the time you’re reading this, there will probably be another ten hours on the Steam clock, and dozens more posts on the game’s active subreddit.
Momoiro Clover Z—these color-coded idols have performed your favorite anime themes, opened for Gaga, and dazzled 150,000 people at Japan’s National Olympic Stadium with their kinetic live act. But in 2010—before they added the Z, before they were Momoclo or MCZ—they were merely Momoiro Clover. They were simply six high school girls with a dream, who were about to have an enterprising horror filmmaker plunge them into a living nightmare.
Last month, one of Westworld’s science consultants stopped by my school. David Eagleman, a neuroscientist who advised the show’s staff for season two, and his co-author Anthony Brandt visited to chat with students about their new book on creativity, The Runaway Species: How Human Creativity Remakes the World.
When it was time for Q&A, I had big questions for him—but they weren’t about the book. I wanted to grill him on something from Westworld that bothered me for the duration of season two: the continuity of consciousness problem.
There are few sports or sport-adjacent activities that have nearly as much geek overlap as pro wrestling. Costumed characters with long-running stories and decades of lore—sound like any other medium you know? Pro wrestling is the closest thing to actual superheroes fighting it out on live TV.
If you’ve seen Wes Anderson’s 2014 The Grand Budapest Hotel, you’ll likely recall its ensemble cast and Ralph Fiennes’ stellar performance as a concierge. However, The Grand Budapest Hotel is a lot heavier than the comedy it appears to be at face value. Anderson’s film won four Oscars from myriad nominations and was unanimously well-received by critics, to the point that it was ranked 21st on BBC’s “100 Greatest Films of the 21st Century” list.
To countless listeners, the McElroy brothers—Justin, Travis, and 30-under-30 Media Luminary Griffin—are known as the hosts of the My Brother, My Brother, and Me podcast. While their advice should never be followed, enough people wanted to that MBMBaM became a massive hit, spawning live shows, spin-offs, and even its own TV show.
The Witch, Robert Eggers’ 2015 debut film, tells the story of a Puritan family exiled from the Massachusetts Bay colonies for patriarch William’s (Ralph Ineson) unorthodox beliefs. While the haunted house story is the traditional model of American familial horror—The Shining’s domestic terror growing like a goldfish to fit its massive new tank, the alienating and all-consuming vastness of the titular building in The Orphanage—The Witch instead treats the house as a fragile membrane between love and ruin, the family’s rough homestead on the edge of a vast wilderness a visual metaphor for the precarity of their bond.