"A corporation struggling to define itself in a fickle and rapidly evolving marketplace is determined to enter a race it has no hope of winning. It turns to a team of passionate, obsessive, hands-on experts in old school methods and, with great trepidation, lets them run. The result is “Ford v Ferrari” — a film that is essentially about the same thing. Director James Mangold demonstrates that a good tale well told, with character and heart and friendship at its core, will never go out of style. That personal stakes can be just as gripping as global ones. That elegant, straight-forward emotional storytelling is a universal language. It’s no small feat to take viewers into a complex and insular world bordering on the religious and, in remarkably short order, invest them in its technical complexities. It isn’t easy to immerse an audience in a story about friends competing more with themselves than anyone else. It’s incredibly hard to create satisfying characters who, by their very nature, can never hope to find satisfaction. And it’s next to impossible to do that in today’s marketplace. Mangold does it. Even a passing glance at his ongoing evolution as a filmmaker gives an indication as to why. James Mangold is, much like his protagonists, determined to grow, evolve, outdo himself and run the perfect lap. He does so knowing he’ll never truly find satisfaction. But his audience always will."

"Everything is wondrous about this film: the writing, the casting, the texture of the image, the framing, the rhythm of the editing, the music, the direction as a whole. The title, though, the result of a necessary deal with idiotic distributors who imposed it over the original Dear Martha . . . , is a miss. Inspired by a famous case, the film is the exact opposite of your garden-variety “true crime” potboiler. It is many things at the same time: a sublime love story (Marguerite Duras dixit); a poetic exploration of the suburban landscape (right up there with Robert Frank’s The Americans); a fierce indictment of late-fifties middle-class aspirations (the trick here being that the irredeemable heroes of this epic inspire more empathy in the viewer than their victims); a level-eyed look at the hard business of murder (no romantic choreography here, and a smack on the skull with a hammer will make you recoil in horror); and too many lessons in filmmaking to quote in these few lines. In short, this is one of the great American films of the last forty years. The astonishing (and scandalous) thing is that Leonard Kastle never went on to make another film. See the film, go to the bonus tracks and see Mr. Kastle speak: the intelligence, the humor, the clarity of the craft will leave you gasping. It is so good to hear someone who has the arrogance of his modesty."

"There’s no performer like Ivor Cutler. This record is a mixture of songs and poetry and stories and the lines between them all aren’t particularly distinct. There’s also a lady who I think was his girlfriend or lover at the time, but she has a couple of short poems on it. The only thing I can think that would be similar would be if you had Philip Larkin and Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band on a record together. It manages to capture those two extremes. It’s also a misleading record because when you first listen to it you think its daft nonsense, and it’s not, it’s extremely astute observation that is succinctly delivered. There’s one piece that talks about sex: "I used to lie in bed with women I loved and have sex. With this woman, I lie in bed and have love, whatever we do is love. Even sex." You have that next to a song about a ludicrous fantasy story about someone saving a sparrow from a taxi driver’s boots. The imagery is wonderful and it’s truly absurd but the absurdity can distract you from how observant it really is. It also has a distinct melancholy running through it as well. Even a song like 'I Believe In Bugs' and the last line "I will feel the bugs wriggle as they eat me away" – it’s funny and it’s absurd but he’s talking about mortality and the absurdity of existence. And very Scottish as well!"

"In the recent documentary Gerhard Richter Painting, the painter speaks at length about being a young artist emerging in post–World War II Germany. He says that he always considered painting to be nothing more than a trade that one dedicates oneself to day after day. Working is, above all, very respectable. Perhaps this attitude can be attributed to the fact that postwar Germans were faced with the arduous (but perhaps liberating) task of writing a new history for themselves—trying to come to terms with the past while simultaneously looking toward the future and the endless possibilities therein. With such daunting business at hand, a workhorse spirit would be a must for all German artists. Fassbinder most definitely had that spirit, leaving behind forty feature-length films and playing countless other roles over the course of his short career. Lola alludes to some of these particular pressures and concerns. Lola herself is a woman with a troubled past pressing forward with her life. It is a great, classic story, and a lot can be read into it. But on a purely aesthetic level, Lola is a sumptuous visual journey. So many textures and colors . . . if Zéro de conduite is a Dadaist masterpiece and The Scarlet Empress is expressionism on film, Lola is pure Technicolor pop art, and one of the best late Fassbinder films. Coincidentally, Rainer Werner Fassbinder died the day before I was born."