Claudia Weill’s GIRLFRIENDS (American Revival)

Chicago Film Society (at Northeastern Illinois University, The Auditorium, Building E, 3701 W. Bryn Mawr Ave.) – Wednesday, 7:30pm

“Filming two people sitting in a room talking is the ultimate in cinema,” said filmmaker Dan Sallitt, a good friend and one of the people whose thoughts about film I value most, in a 2012 interview with Mubi. “There are no excuses, no crutches, no distractions to make you look like a better filmmaker than you are.” This remark has stayed with me ever since I read it, and I’ve referenced it several times, both when writing about Dan’s film THE UNSPEAKABLE ACT and Anthony Mann’s MEN IN WAR, and I’m now thinking about it when considering Claudia Weill’s woefully underseen GIRLFRIENDS. While it’s true that the eponymous girlfriends do more than just talk—they work, have sex, marry, make art, and play party games in equal measure—it’s what they say, and don’t say, that makes this low-budget, barefaced film rich in context. Susan (Melanie Mayron) and Anne (Anita Skinner) are twenty-something women who live together as roommates in New York City, the former a photographer and the latter an aspiring writer. Their relationship shifts when Anne marries her boyfriend, Martin (played by a young Bob Balaban), and eventually has a baby, choosing domestic bliss—or at least the illusion of it—over creative success. Susan mourns this relationship while likewise attempting to make strides in her own rutted career, taking two steps back for every one forward. She has a few romantic entanglements, first with a young professor (Christopher Guest in a captivating performance), then later with the rabbi (Eli Wallach, reportedly eager to again play the romantic lead) for whom she works as a wedding and bar mitzvah photographer, then again with the first guy, though her desire for independence remains a priority. In an interview with The L Magazine, Weill explained her decision behind making a film about this particular dynamic (she also revealed that the project originally began as a documentary about growing up Jewish in America): “That situation had happened to me many times by then. My sister got married, my best friend, everybody got married, and I was nowhere in the ballpark. Like completely, are you kidding? How do people get married? I totally did not get this. First of all, how do meet somebody that you like, and second of all, how could you possibly know you want to be with him for the rest of your life? It was so remote a possibility. Also because I was so involved with my work… I was always that ‘other girl.’ So I just started working on a film about it.” Critic and professor Lucy Fischer asserts that GIRLFRIENDS is a response of sorts, one that “addresses stereotypes of female friendship that have circulated for centuries in our culture,” though Weill herself admits to having the same problem as her protagonist. The film isn’t even up to snuff with the Bechdel test, that modern criterion by which some critics and viewers alike have come to appraise cinema. Susan and Anne are more often than not talking about men, either directly or in the abstract; Anne reveals she’s getting married after Susan tells her that three of her photos have been accepted by a publication, the scene perfectly epitomizing both the literal direction of the characters’ relationship and the figurative struggle between choosing either a career or a family. In confronting this stereotypical rapport head on, Weill revolutionizes the way we perceive female relationships, which like many relationships, are often rooted in banal, clichéd dynamics that are nevertheless ripe for examination. In another scene, Susan explains to a hitchhiker she picked up, and who starts staying with her, that she had previously been living with a woman with whom she was going to share her large apartment; later, when the hitchhiker makes advances towards her, she explains that the woman she had lived with was her roommate, not her lover. That she must explain as such conveys the importance of their relationship, however tenuous it may be. Shot on 16mm, which certainly befits its tone, the film straddles the line at which charmingly amateurish and technically accomplished meet. Weill worked with a largely female crew—her friend Vicki Polon wrote the screenplay from a story they devised together, and Suzanne Pettit, for whom GIRLFRIENDS was her first and most illustrious gig, edited the film. Their combined efforts result in a work with an uncanny sense of the passage of time, one that closely mimics reality’s own deceiving swiftness. Mayron’s performance is similarly astounding; Molly Haskell perhaps said it best when she declared that Mayron “offers evidence that some mysterious quality we call sex appeal is harder to define than it ever was.” Often cited as a de facto influence on such millennial manifestos as Lena Dunham’s TINY FURNITURE (Weill would eventually direct an episode of Dunham’s HBO show Girls in 2013, though her feature film career sadly plateaued following her 1980 film IT’S MY TURN) and Noah Baumbach’s FRANCES HA, GIRLFRIENDS is a singular work that proves that female relationships are inherently cinematic: All talk, very little action—surprisingly difficult to execute, and thus all the more rewarding when done well. Preceded by Weill and Joyce Chopra’s 1973 short JOYCE AT 34 (28 min, 16mm Preserved Archival Print). (1978, 88 min, 35mm) KS

John Woo's HARD BOILED (Hong Kong Revival) 

Music Box Theatre – Friday and Saturday, Midnight

Somewhere between silly and sublime, the pièce de résistance of John Woo's Hong Kong career turns pulp cheese into pop ballet—fluid, extravagant, and totally enamored with its own sense of cool. Chow Yun-Fat stars as Tequila (a name that only John Woo—or a ten-year-old boy—could love), a clarinet-playing cop who teams up with an undercover loner (Tony Leung Chiu-Wai) to take down a triad boss (Anthony Wong), shoot a lot of people, and rescue some adorable babies. Woo's worldview—overwrought, slightly homoerotic, with some entry-level metaphysics and psychology thrown in for good measure—may be reductive, but damn if it doesn't have a certain brutal grace to it; the way he turns the characters into bodies in motion—charging at one another, leaping through space, getting showered with shards of glass—is engrossing and often just plain beautiful. (1992, 126 min, 35mm) IV

Jean Renoir's GRAND ILLUSION (French Revival)

Gene Siskel Film Center – Friday, 2pm and Saturday, 3pm

In the spring of 1937, master director Jean Renoir's GRAND ILLUSION premiered in his country to general acclaim. However, when the Nazis invaded only three years later, Joseph Goebbels declared the film to be "Cinematic Public Enemy No. 1." He seized the original negative, which finally resurfaced over fifty years later in a pile of boxes that traveled from Moscow to the Cinematheque de Toulouse. Renoir adapted GRAND ILLUSION from his friend Major Pinsard's reminiscences as a pilot during World War I. In the beginning of the film, Captain von Rauffenstein (Erich von Stroheim) captures Captain de Boeldieu (Pierre Fresnay) and his lieutenant Marechal (Jean Gabin) and transfers them to a prisoner of war camp. At the camp, Boeldieu, Marechal, and their friends while away the time by gardening, playing cards, and performing theater. They also dig a tunnel to escape and return to the front. But, before succeeding, the Germans transfer them to von Rauffenstein's fortress, where they devise a new plan for escape. Although the rules are strict within the camps, the soldiers treat the prisoners quite well and, amazingly, a true camaraderie develops between them. This French filmmaker depicts the German soldiers--especially von Rauffenstein--and citizens as humane. It begs the question: Why did Renoir create this image of the German people in the face of Nazism? Why did he make this film? In watching GRAND ILLUSION, the viewer reflects on its title and the any number of things to which it alludes. The film remains known today for its expression of man's humanity, but is such possible in war? For me, the grand illusion is our humanity, which we have yet to realize. (1937, 114 min, 35mm) CW


Marcel Carné's LE JOUR SE LÈVE (French Revival)

Gene Siskel Film Center – Saturday, 5:15pm and Monday, 6pm

Widely considered a masterpiece of French poetic realism, Marcel Carné's LE JOUR SE LÈVE is noted as much for its narrative structure as it is for its place within the cryptic prewar style. It opens with a bang--literally. From there on out, languid dissolves take the viewer from the tortured protagonist's present to his recent past, revealing the events that led up to (or down from?) the film's first fateful moment. Based on a story thought up by one of his neighbors and adapted to the screen by poet Jacques Prévert (with whom Carné collaborated for more than a decade), the construction is what first attracted Carné; its flashback structure, now taken for granted, was among the first of its kind and has since become a commonly used device. The bang we hear is a gunshot, that of François (played by Jean Gabin) killing an as yet unidentified character. As the police surround his apartment and attempt to either arrest or kill him, François thinks back to the events that led him there. Of course his dilemma involves a woman--two in fact: the sweet, young Françoise (Jacqueline Laurent) and the more experienced, more embittered Clara (Arletty). As romantic tragedy is a defining factor of poetic realism, it suffices to say there's no happy ending in store for François. But romance aside, would there ever have been? François is a foundryman who had been employed in hazardous jobs his entire life. Poetic realism is distinct from straightforward realism (and the movements associated with it) in how the work embodies cinematic verisimilitude. It's suggested that François's unhealthy working conditions would have eventually led to his early demise, but it's not the trappings of his social class that kills him, it's his doomed romance. The ill-fated affair is representative both of his unfortunate lot in life as a member of the petite bourgeoisie and the way in which poetic realist directors conveyed their socio-political leanings. The film was released in 1939, the last year of the poetic realism "movement" before the war handicapped the French film industry altogether. Combined with imagery that evokes German Expressionism and would later inspire film noir, Italian neorealism and the French New Wave, the movement and the films born of it combine the atmospheric capabilities inherent to cinema and the lyrical persuasion of poetry. As per the Film Center's website, this new 4K restoration "brings back long-unseen footage censored under the Vichy regime (including a nude glimpse of Arletty, and the expunged credits of Jewish creative personnel)." (93 min, DCP Digital) KS

Jia Zhang-Ke's STILL LIFE (Chinese Revival)

Filmfront (1740 W. 18th St.) – Sunday, 8pm (Free Admission)

The people of Fengjie scramble to salvage what they can as their surroundings are submerged by water displaced by the Three Gorges Dam; there're the sensations of walking across rubble, of soup-steam getting in your face, of cheap labor and unheated rooms. STILL LIFE is a poem and a survey by director Jia Zhang-Ke, his actors, cinematographer Yu Lik Wai, the 21st century, digital video, and China's landscapes. (Social landscapes as well as geographic ones / the architecture of interactions as much the architecture of bridges and the building-ghosts of razed cities / great spans of distance across gorges and between people seated side by side.) It is tactile, aromatic, romantic, simple and final. A document of China's break-neck growth that tells us more about the present than most films that would call themselves documentaries. It's a lunar expedition to a familiar place: a Neo-(Sur)Realist film written by world economics like Jia's THE WORLD and UNKNOWN PLEASURES, and a (modern) history lesson like his debut PLATFORM. The film has more in common with a photograph than the painting its title suggests, capturing an instant in a rapidly changing world. It stresses the passage of time to express a feeling for life. A focus on time brings a focus to life. (2006, 111 min, Digital Projection) KH, IV

Jonathan Demme's STOP MAKING SENSE (Documentary Revival)

Music Box Theatre – Wednesday, 7:30pm 

RACHEL GETTING MARRIED was labeled Jonathan Demme's return to form by some critics, but it's unlikely he'll ever top his Talking Heads concert film. In nearly every shot, STOP MAKING SENSE makes the case that Demme may be the greatest director of musical performance in American cinema. It isn't difficult to convey the joy of making music, but Demme's attention to the interplay between musicians (and, in some inspired moments, between the musicians and their crew) conveys the imagination, hard work, and camaraderie behind any good song.  And, needless to say, the songs here are very, very good. By this point (the performances are culled from three concerts from 1983), Talking Heads were the headiest American band to achieve their degree of success, and they made the most of it, doubling their line-up to include back-up singers and a few instrumentalists from the golden years of George Clinton's Funkadelic. It's never openly acknowledged that the five new members are black and the Heads are white; the sheer creativity of the music, which fuses everything from soul to traditional African rhythms to then-advanced electronic effects, is fully utopian in its spirit. (1984, 88 min, DCP Digital) BS

Terry Gilliam’s THE ADVENTURES OF BARON MUNCHAUSEN (British Revival)

Northbrook Public Library (1201 Cedar Lane, Northbrook) – Thursday, 7pm (Free Admission)

“Calling [Terry] Gilliam’s THE ADVENTURES OF BARON MUNCHAUSEN noncontemporary almost sounds like an understatement,” wrote Jonathan Rosenbaum when the film first opened in Chicago (and shortly before it went down, undeservedly, as one of the biggest commercial flops of the late 1980s). “Set in the late 18th century, when the original [Baron Munchausen] stories were written, its main influences and counterparts—the silent fantasy films of Georges Méliès and the comic strip ‘Little Nemo in Slumberland’ by Windsor McCay—are found a little over a century later. Even if one views time in terms of decades rather than centuries, Terry Gilliam is anything but an 80s personality; his particular brand of antiauthoritarian fantasy and adolescent humor belongs much more to the 50s (Mad comics and THE 5,000 FINGERS OF DR. T.) and the counterculture 60s than to anything in the last 20 years... Part of what’s disconcerting about all of Gilliam’s movies, in fact, is the combination of metaphysical aspirations with small-scale slapstick, almost as if he were combining the contrary impulses of two other American directors who have spent most of their careers in England, Stanley Kubrick and Richard Lester. His Baron Munchausen, to take one example, is made up and often even framed to suggest the figure of Don Quixote [another Gilliam obsession], but it’s not a reference that carries much weight because he’s a comic-book Quixote without a Sancho Panza (unless the little girl who accompanies him on his adventures dimly qualifies. The film offers three separate views of hell—a war-torn European city, a red-hot (and anachronistically conceived) nuclear missile plan straight out of HELLZAPOPPIN’ within the crater of Mount Etna, and the inside of the belly of a gigantic sea monster—but no single discernible thread allows us to link up all three. The film is also preoccupied with the aging baron’s proximity to death, but here again there’s a tendency to contradict or at least complicate this serious element with a certain nose-thumbing irreverence.” That irreverence is also communicated through some wonderfully broad comic performances from Eric Idle (as the fastest man in the world), Oliver Reed (as the ruler of said missile plant), and Robin Williams (as the King of the Moon). Showing as part of the library’s Sci-Fi/Fantasy Movie Discussion Group meeting. (1988, 126 min, Digital Projection) BS


Music Box Theatre – Check Venue website for showtimes

Edwin H. Land founded the Polaroid Corporation in Cambridge, MA in 1937. Biographies of Land describe an inventor so singularly driven to research that he frequently had to be reminded to eat, and employed teams of assistants working in shifts round-the-clock to keep pace. Land's compulsion to solve problems of light polarization and color constancy were tied to no higher an aim than the democratization of technology. "Grand machines for a grand purpose," Land declared in one promotional video. Fellow Cantabrigian Elsa Dorfman, a photographer whose medium is ultra-rare, large format Polaroids and the subject of Errol Morris's most recent documentary THE B-SIDE, seems a sharp contrast to Land: unassuming, affable, and compelled by her personal and professional relationships. Contrasts in demeanor aside, the inventor and artist's legacies are uncommonly linked. The 80-year-old Dorfman's earliest subjects were friends of the Grolier Poetry Bookshop near Harvard Square: Ferlinghetti, Ginsberg, Tate. The first two-thirds of THE B-SIDE take the form of a chronological exposition of Dorfman's life by way of her photos. As the photographer opens drawer after drawer in her archive there's an earnestness to her reactions, like greeting an old friend: "Ahhh here's Jonathan!" Dorfman exclaims as she pulls a photo of the Jonathan Richman. Dorfman's lack of guile is what makes her a great documentary subject. She struggled to connect at galleries and financed her tenuous artistic existence through retail portraiture. "Everything I did made sense," she observed, "...if you knew me." The final third of THE B-SIDE leads us to the present where, like the Polaroid enterprise itself, questions of longevity linger over Dorfman. In 2008, post-bankruptcy, Polaroid stopped manufacturing the film and chemicals she used for her ultra-rare, 20x24 camera—one of five left in the world. Efforts were made to stockpile film but eventually Dorfman chose to retire, commenting to the New York Times, "It's dwindling, and I'm dwindling." The concepts of perishability and impermanence are at the core of Morris's latest work. The documentary serves as a bittersweet contrast between the hope of the inventor Land at the outset that Polaroid will "become part of the human being; an adjunct to your memory," and the realization of the artist Dorfman at the end of a career: "If you're a photographer and you're always nailing down what's the now, you realize it doesn't matter ... the now is always racing beyond you." (2017, 76 min, DCP Digital) JS


South Side Projections at the Co-Prosperity Sphere (3219 S. Morgan Ave.) presents Parallax Views: Paranoia on Film on Thursday at 8pm. Screening Stan VanDerBeek’s MIRRORED REASON (1980, 10 min, 16mm), John Smith’s THE BLACK TOWER (1987, 25 min, 16mm), Deborah Stratman’s HACKED CIRCUIT (2014, 15 min, Digital Projection), Leighton Pierce’s MIRACLE OF CHANGE (1984, 7 min, 16mm), Stephanie Barber’s WOMAN STABBED TO DEATH (1996, 9 min, 16mm), plus filmmaker Ernest J. Ramon will present special excepts from his “Critical Paranoia” series and participate in a Q&A. Free admission. 

Gallery 400 (400 S. Peoria, UIC) presents Remnants of a Dream on Thursday at 6pm, curated by Amir George/The Cinema Culture. Screening are: BLACK WATER MIDNIGHT (AJ McClenon, 12 min), SUMMER BEFORE SPRINGS END (Terence Price and Reginald O'Neal, 9 min), PANACEA (Shelby Stone, 3 min, 35mm slide performance), REMNANTS OF A ROOM (Vonnie Quest, 4 min), "he Kind of like skipped over me and tells all my African American friends to go sit down" (AJ McClenon, 9 min), and DECADENT ASYLUM (Amir George, 17 min). Free admission. 

The Nightingale presents Dire Straits: The Early Films of Daniel Warth on Tuesday at 8pm, with Warth in person. Screening are: DIRE STRAITS (2013, 8 min), CHAINSAWFACE (2008, 2 min), BABY FIREFIGHTERS (2009, 5 min), BADGE OF HARDWARE (2014, 4 min), FUTURE ASSASSIN (2013, 3 min), IT WON'T BE LONG (2010, 10 min), and PETTY THIEVES (2013, 24 min). All Digital Projection; and on Thursday at 8pm it’s Two Nodes On The Noise Axis (2006-17, approx. 60 min total, Digital Projection), a group show of experimental work by current and former residents of Providence (RI) and Tampa (FL). Screening are videos by Carlos Gonzalez, Leif Goldberg, Xander Marro, and Cameron Worden. 

ArcLight Chicago (1500 N. Clybourn Ave.) screens Daniel Warth’s 2017 film DIM THE FLUORESCENTS (128 min, Digital Projection) on Wednesday at 8pm, with Warth and additional members of the cast and crew in person.  Showing as part of the Slamdance Cinema Club series.

Also at the Northbrook Public Library (1201 Cedar Lane, Northbrook) this week: Penny Marshall’s 1992 film A LEAGUE OF THEIR OWN (128 min, DCP Digital) is on Wednesday at 1 and 7:30pm. Free admission.

Black Cinema House (at the Stony Island Arts Bank, 6760 S. Stony Island Ave.) presents Taking Control of the Narrative on Friday at 7pm. Screening are: THE NEGRO ENTERTAINER (Pemon Rami, 2014, 6 min), THE JOAN DAMERON CRISLER (David Weathersby, 2015, 20 min), FIRST DATE (Kristen V Carter, 2013, 8 min), and MIXED UP (Ian Lassiter and Jeff Glaser, 2014, 14 min), with Rami, Weathersby, Abe Thompson (Chicago film and music producer), and Christine Boulware (CEO and founder of itsashort.com) in person. Free admission. 

Also at the Gene Siskel Film Center this week: Jean Renoir’s 1939 French film THE RULES OF THE GAME (110 min, 35mm) is on Sunday at 3pm and Wednesday at 6pm; Eleanor Coppola’s 2016 film PARIS CAN WAIT (92 min, DCP Digital), Julian Rosefeldt’s 2015 film MANIFESTO (95 min, DCP Digital), and Thomas Vinterberg’s 2016 Danish/Swedish/Dutch film THE COMMUNE (111 min, DCP Digital) all play for a week; Radek Bajgar’s 2016 Czech film TIGER THEORY (107 min, DCP Digital) is on Friday at 8pm and Tuesday at 6pm; Jan Hřebejk’s 2016 Czech/Slovak film THE TEACHER (102 min, DCP Digital) is on Saturday at 5:15pm and Thursday at 8pm; and a free screening of Gina Kelly’s 2017 documentary DRIFTLESS (86 min, Digital Projection) is on Sunday at Noon, preceded by Mica O'Herlihy’s short animated film LOVE UNDER WILL OF THE HAGS OF LONG TOOTH.

At Doc Films (University of Chicago) this week: Elliot Nugent’s 1939 film THE CAT AND THE CANARY (72 min, Archival 35mm Print) is on Friday at 7 and 9pm; John Nguyen, Rick Barnes and Olivia Neergaard-Holm’s 2016 documentary DAVID LYNCH: THE ART LIFE (93 min, DCP Digital) is on Saturday at 7 and 9pm; and André Klotzel’s 2001 Brazilian film POSTHUMOUS MEMORIES (101 min, 35mm) is on Thursday at 7pm. 

Also at the Music Box Theatre this week: A three-hour selection of Looney Tunes on 35mm (approx. 180 min total, 35mm), with a healthy proportion of ones by Chuck Jones, is on Saturday and Sunday at 11am; Jeff Baena’s 2017 film THE LITTLE HOURS (90 min, DCP Digital) opens, with Baena in person at the 7:20 and 9:45pm Friday shows and the 5pm Saturday show; Jordan Vogt-Roberts’ 2017 film KONG: SKULL ISLAND (118 min, 70mm) is on Saturday at 8pm, with director Vogt-Roberts in person; Mike Nichols’ 1996 film THE BIRDCAGE (117 min, 35mm) is on Sunday at 7pm, as part of critic Mark Caro’s occasional “Is It Still Funny?” series; Josh Homme and Andreas Neumann’s 2017 documentary AMERICAN VALHALLA (81 min, DCP Digital) is on Monday at 7:30pm; and Christopher Nolan’s 2017 film DUNKIRK (107 min, 70mm) opens on Thursday, with shows at 7:30 and 10pm. 

At Facets Cinémathèque this week: Zaradasht Ahmed’s 2016 documentary NOWHERE TO HIDE (86 min, Video Projection) and Danny Buday’s 2015 film BATTLE SCARS (94 min, Video Projection), both have week-long runs; and in their “Teach-In” series is D.A. Pennebaker and Chris Hegedus’ 2016 documentary UNLOCKING THE CAGE (91 min, Video Projection; Free admission, donations welcome), screening on Saturday at 5pm, with a discussion led by photographer Colleen Plumb and Kevin Schneider (Executive Director of the Nonhuman Rights Project). 

Elevated Films Chicago presents Dustin Guy Defa's 2017 film PERSON TO PERSON (84 min, Digital Projection) on Monday at 8:30pm (doors at 7:30) at the Media Production Center at Columbia College Chicago (1600 S. State St., 2nd floor roof deck). Preceded by an unspecified student short film. Local filmmaker Joe Swanberg hosts a Q&A with director Dustin Defa and actor Bene Coopersmith. 

At the Chicago Cultural Center this week: Abe Kasbo’s 2015 documentary A THOUSAND AND ONE JOURNEYS: THE ARAB AMERICANS (90 min, Video Projection) is on Saturday at 2pm, followed by a discussion; and Cinema/Chicago presents a screening of Michel Tikhomiroff’s 2014 Brazilian film TRUST ME (85 min, Video Projection) on Wednesday at 6:30pm. Free admission. 

Comfort Film at Comfort Station Logan Square (2579 N. Milwaukee Ave.) presents the Once in a Lifetime live-commentary screening of Doug Campbell’s 2015 film BAD SISTER (87 min, Video Projection) on Tuesday at 8pm; and an outdoor screening of Georges Méliès’ silent French films A TRIP TO THE MOON (1902, approx. 13 min, Digital Projection) and THE IMPOSSIBLE VOYAGE (1904, approx. 24 min, Digital Projection), along with a selection of archival NASA footage, on Wednesday at 8:20pm, with a live score performed by Digital Gnosis. Free admission.

Sinema Obscura at Township (2200 N. California Ave.) screens Chicago band White Mystery’s 2015 film THAT WAS AWESOME (50 min, Digital Projection), directed by Francis Scott Key White, on Monday at 7pm. Free admission.

The Goethe-Institut Chicago (150 N. Michigan Ave., Suite 200) screens Edward Berger’s 2014 German film JACK (103 min, Video Projection) on Thursday at 6pm. Free admission. 

Instituto Cervantes (31 W. Ohio St.) screens Enrique Urbizu’s 2011 Spanish film NO REST FOR THE WICKED (104 min, DVD Projection) on Tuesday at 6pm. Free admission. 

The Gorton Community Center in Lake Forest (400 E. Illinois Rd., Lake Forest, IL) screens Rob Reiner’s 1987 film THE PRINCESS BRIDE (98 min, Digital Projection) on Friday at 7pm.


The Art Institute of Chicago (Modern Wing Galleries) has Dara Birnbaum’s 1979 two-channel video KISS THE GIRLS: MAKE THEM CRY (6 min) currently on view.

CINE-LIST: July 14 - July 20, 2017

MANAGING EDITOR // Patrick Friel

ASSOCIATE EDITORS // Ben Sachs, Kathleen Sachs, Kyle A. Westphal

CONTRIBUTORS // Kyle Cubr, Kalvin Henley, James Stroble, Candace Wirt