The dramatic tension starts early and, [over] enhanced by a relentless Phillip Glass score, hardly ever lets up. There’s one tiny reprieve, in the middle of it all when, after an illicit tryst, Blanchett and her underage lover break into dialog lifted straight from A Grand Don’t Come for Free. From there, though, it’s all building intensity until everyone’s broken down, revealed for what they are, and the audience caught in the crossfire.

delightfully vague, bracing & immediate, bleak but still hopeful.

All you need to know about this movie is in the scene where Steve Coogan’s narcissistic lead argues for his character (Walter Shandy) to have an anachronistically tender moment with his newborn son (Tristram) simply to manipulate audience’s affection for him. The writers refuse, but moments later Coogan’s Coogan has an uncharacteristically sappy moment with his own newboarn son. And even though we know exactly what’s happening and why, it works all the same.

jangly french pop. it isn’t going to change the world, but it is incredibly catchy and re-listenable.

this is my favorite album of the summer. maybe of the year, too? run, don’t walk, to your nearest record store or to their website.