The Fly
One of the best pieces of recent film writing (other than what can be found at The Spool, of course) is R.S. Benedict’s “Everybody is Beautiful and No One is Horny,” about how superhero movies feature actors ripped and sculpted to within an inch of their lives, and never doing anything else with those amazing bodies except punching villains. There’s been a curious desexualizing of film in general over the past few years, with most of the graphic stuff reserved for whatever sad white people miniseries HBO Max happens to be playing at the moment. Even the chemistry between actors is muted, platonic, as if filmmakers are going out of their way not to offend anyone. Continue Reading →