“The Dead Don’t Die” and “A Bigger Splash.”
The idea of casting Iggy Pop as a zombie isn’t just an excellent joke. It’s also sound economics. Think of the savings! When it comes to hair, complexion, and costume, he’s ready to roll. In Jim Jarmusch’s new movie, “The Dead Don’t Die,” we find ourselves in a cemetery, after dark. The earth above a grave begins to shift, and a soiled hand breaks through from below, clawing at the air. To the surprise of no one, up pops Pop.
“The Dead Don’t Die” is an all-star zombie flick, which is something of a contradiction in terms. You don’t watch mainstays of the genre, like George Romero’s “Night of the Living Dead” (1968) and “Dawn of the Dead” (1979), in the hope of spotting familiar faces. You want to see unfamiliar heads, not necessarily with bodies attached; it may be because we don’t recognize the victims, indeed, that all the chopping and chewing can be borne. No chance of that in Jarmusch’s film, which is stuffed with famous actors, and where fame turns out to be no guarantee of survival. Agents will hate it.
The setting is Centerville, U.S.A.— “A Real Nice Place,” a sign declares. The resident cops, all bespectacled, are Cliff Robertson (Bill Murray), Ronnie Peterson (Adam Driver), and Mindy Morrison (Chloë Sevigny). Tom Waits plays Hermit Bob, who went to junior high with Robertson fifty years ago and now inhabits the woods. He bears a comforting resemblance to the
Cowardly Lion. Bob is suspected of stealing chickens from Farmer Miller (Steve Buscemi), whose cap sports the legend “Keep America White Again” and who frequents the town diner with Hank Thompson (Danny Glover). Selena Gomez plays Zoe, one of three young folks who show up in a vintage Pontiac. “Hipsters from the big city,” a local says, as if they were visitors from a more frantic planet.
Denne historien er fra June 24, 2019-utgaven av The New Yorker.
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Denne historien er fra June 24, 2019-utgaven av The New Yorker.
Start din 7-dagers gratis prøveperiode på Magzter GOLD for å få tilgang til tusenvis av utvalgte premiumhistorier og 9000+ magasiner og aviser.
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YULE RULES
“Christmas Eve in Miller’s Point.”
COLLISION COURSE
In Devika Rege’ first novel, India enters a troubling new era.
NEW CHAPTER
Is the twentieth-century novel a genre unto itself?
STUCK ON YOU
Pain and pleasure at a tattoo convention.
HEAVY SNOW HAN KANG
Kyungha-ya. That was the entirety of Inseon’s message: my name.
REPRISE
Reckoning with Donald Trump's return to power.
WHAT'S YOUR PARENTING-FAILURE STYLE?
Whether you’re horrifying your teen with nauseating sex-ed analogies or watching TikToks while your toddler eats a bagel from the subway floor, face it: you’re flailing in the vast chasm of your child’s relentless needs.
COLOR INSTINCT
Jadé Fadojutimi, a British painter, sees the world through a prism.
THE FAMILY PLAN
The pro-life movement’ new playbook.
President for Sale - A survey of today's political ads.
On a mid-October Sunday not long ago sun high, wind cool-I was in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, for a book festival, and I took a stroll. There were few people on the streets-like the population of a lot of capital cities, Harrisburg's swells on weekdays with lawyers and lobbyists and legislative staffers, and dwindles on the weekends. But, on the façades of small businesses and in the doorways of private homes, I could see evidence of political activity. Across from the sparkling Susquehanna River, there was a row of Democratic lawn signs: Malcolm Kenyatta for auditor general, Bob Casey for U.S. Senate, and, most important, in white letters atop a periwinkle not unlike that of the sky, Kamala Harris for President.