We need more directors willing to take risks with films like Get Out.
I saw "The Lonely Guy" all by myself. It was one of those Saturday afternoons where the snow is coming down gray and mean, and you can't even get a decent recorded message on the answering machines of strangers.
There was a warm glow coming out of the windows of a tanning parlor. At a table in the window of a hot dog joint, three bums were laughing warmly, sharing a joke and a cup of coffee. I stuck my hands down deep into the pockets of my jeans and hunched my shoulders against the cold. I tried to force a smile to my frozen lips: Hey, I was going to the movies!
I walked up to the ticket booth of the Esquire theater and with a flourish presented my Plitt Theaters pass.
"What's this?" asked the ticket person.