Watch The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, the Influential German Expressionist Film (1920)

Cabinet Of Dr. Caligari

In ear­ly 1920, posters began appear­ing all over Berlin with a hyp­not­ic spi­ral and the mys­te­ri­ous com­mand Du musst Cali­gari wer­den — “You must become Cali­gari.”

The posters were part of an inno­v­a­tive adver­tis­ing cam­paign for an upcom­ing movie by Robert Wiene called The Cab­i­net of Dr. Cali­gari. When the film appeared, audi­ences were mes­mer­ized by Wiene’s sur­re­al tale of mys­tery and hor­ror. Almost a cen­tu­ry lat­er, The Cab­i­net of Dr. Cali­gari is still cel­e­brat­ed for its rare blend­ing of low­brow enter­tain­ment and avant-garde art. It is fre­quent­ly cit­ed as the quin­tes­sen­tial cin­e­mat­ic exam­ple of Ger­man Expres­sion­ism, with its dis­tort­ed per­spec­tives and per­va­sive sense of dread.

Like many night­mares, Cali­gari had its ori­gin in real-life events. Screen­writer Hans Janowitz had been walk­ing late one night through a fair in Ham­burg’s red-light dis­trict when he heard laugh­ter. Turn­ing, he saw an attrac­tive young woman dis­ap­pear behind some bush­es in a park. A short time lat­er a man emerged from the shad­ows and walked away. The next morn­ing, Janowitz read in the news­pa­pers that a young woman match­ing the descrip­tion of the one he had seen had been mur­dered overnight at that very loca­tion.

Haunt­ed by the inci­dent, Janowitz told the sto­ry to fel­low writer Carl May­er. Togeth­er they set to work writ­ing a screen­play based on the inci­dent, draw­ing also on May­er’s unset­tling expe­ri­ence with a psy­chi­a­trist. They imag­ined a strange, bespec­ta­cled man named Dr. Cali­gari who arrives in a small town to demon­strate his pow­ers of hyp­no­tism over Cesare, a sleep walk­er, at the local fair. A series of mys­te­ri­ous mur­ders fol­lows.

Janowitz and May­er sold their screen­play to Erich Pom­mer at Decla-Film. Pom­mer at first want­ed Fritz Lang to direct the film, but Lang was busy with anoth­er project, so he gave the job to Wiene. One of the most crit­i­cal deci­sions Pom­mer made was to hire Expres­sion­ist art direc­tor Her­mann Warm to design the pro­duc­tion, along with painters Wal­ter Reimann and Wal­ter Röhrig. As R. Bar­ton Palmer writes at Film Ref­er­ence:

The prin­ci­ple of War­m’s con­cep­tion is the Expres­sion­ist notion of Bal­lung, that crys­tal­liza­tion of the inner real­i­ty of objects, con­cepts, and peo­ple through an artis­tic expres­sion that cuts through and dis­cards a false exte­ri­or. War­m’s sets for the film cor­re­spond­ing­ly evoke the twists and turn­ings of a small Ger­man medieval town, but in a patent­ly unre­al­is­tic fash­ion (e.g., streets cut across one anoth­er at impos­si­ble angles and paths are impos­si­bly steep). The roofs that Cesare the som­nam­bu­list cross­es dur­ing his night­time depre­da­tions rise at unlike­ly angles to one anoth­er, yet still afford him pas­sage so that he can reach his vic­tims. In oth­er words, the world of Cali­gari remains “real” in the sense that it is not offered as an alter­na­tive one to what actu­al­ly exists. On the con­trary, War­m’s design is meant to evoke the essence of Ger­man social life, offer­ing a pen­e­trat­ing cri­tique of semi­of­fi­cial author­i­ty (the psy­chi­a­trist) that is soft­ened by the addi­tion of a fram­ing sto­ry. As a prac­tic­ing artist with a deep com­mit­ment to the polit­i­cal and intel­lec­tu­al pro­gram of Expres­sion­ism, Warm was the ide­al tech­ni­cian to do the art design for the film, which bears out War­m’s famous man­i­festo that “the cin­e­ma image must become an engrav­ing.”

The screen­writ­ers were dis­ap­point­ed with Wiene’s deci­sion to frame the sto­ry as a flash­back told by a patient in a psy­chi­atric hos­pi­tal. Janowitz, in par­tic­u­lar, had meant Cali­gari to be an indict­ment of the Ger­man gov­ern­ment that had recent­ly sent mil­lions of men to kill or be killed in the trench­es of World War I. “While the orig­i­nal sto­ry exposed author­i­ty,” writes Siegfried Kra­cauer in From Cali­gari to Hitler: A Psy­cho­log­i­cal His­to­ry of the Ger­man Film, “Wiene’s Cali­gari glo­ri­fied author­i­ty and con­vict­ed its antag­o­nist of mad­ness. A rev­o­lu­tion­ary film was thus turned into a con­formist one — fol­low­ing the much-used pat­tern of declar­ing some nor­mal but trou­ble­some indi­vid­ual insane and send­ing him to a lunatic asy­lum.”

In a pure­ly cin­e­mat­ic sense, of course, The Cab­i­net of Dr. Cali­gari remains a rev­o­lu­tion­ary work. You can watch the com­plete film above. Or find it list­ed in our col­lec­tion, 4,000+ Free Movies Online: Great Clas­sics, Indies, Noir, West­erns, Doc­u­men­taries & More.

Relat­ed con­tent:

Fritz Lang’s M: Watch the Restored Ver­sion of the Clas­sic 1931 Film

Metrop­o­lis Restored: Watch a New Ver­sion of Fritz Lang’s Mas­ter­piece

Watch the Quin­tes­sen­tial Vam­pire Film Nos­fer­atu

American Filmmakers in Japanese Ads: Quentin Tarantino Sells Cell Phones, Orson Welles Hawks Whisky

Amer­i­can movie stars have long found work across the pacif­ic in Japan­ese tele­vi­sion com­mer­cials: Nico­las Cage, Paul New­man, Den­nis Hop­per, Har­ri­son Ford, Jodie Fos­ter — the list goes on. If their spots aired state­side, we’d prob­a­bly buy what they sell too, but celebri­ties in their image-pro­tec­tive league have thus far shown a reluc­tance to endorse prod­ucts in their own coun­try. Japan’s ad indus­try has­n’t only sought the par­tic­i­pa­tion of Amer­i­ca’s big-name actors, though; it’s also gone after the direc­tors. At the top, you’ll see one fea­tur­ing a film­mak­er nev­er afraid of expo­sure: Pulp Fic­tion auteur Quentin Taran­ti­no tak­ing a turn in local cos­tume (and along­side a talk­ing dog) in a com­mer­cial for Japan­ese cell phone ser­vice provider Soft­bank. Just below, we have Orson Welles, he of Cit­i­zen Kane and British frozen-peas nar­ra­tion alike, in a spot for G&G Whisky.

“I direct films and act in them,” Welles says by way of intro­duc­tion. “What we’re always try­ing for is per­fec­tion, but of course, that’s only a hope. But with G&G, you can rely on it.” It may put you in the mind of Sofia Cop­po­la’s Lost in Trans­la­tion, where­in Bill Mur­ray’s char­ac­ter famous­ly turns up in Japan to shoot a whisky com­mer­cial of his own. Mak­ers of that bev­er­age have shown quite an inter­est in the impri­matur of cin­e­ma’s lumi­nar­ies, East­ern as well as West­ern.

We’ve pre­vi­ous­ly fea­tured a Sun­to­ry com­mer­cial includ­ing not just The Gofa­ther and Apoc­a­lypse Now direc­tor Fran­cis Ford Cop­po­la, but Aki­ra Kuro­sawa, the mak­er of Rashomon and Sev­en Samu­rai, known in his home­land as “the Emper­or.” It makes you won­der: do we in Amer­i­ca know our direc­tors well enough that they could sell us things? Then again, the Japan­ese did enjoy all those old Woody Allen Seibu spots when most of them still had­n’t a clue about the beloved film­mak­er’s iden­ti­ty.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Nico­las Cage, Paul New­man & Den­nis Hop­per Bring Their Amer­i­can Style to Japan­ese Com­mer­cials

Aki­ra Kuro­sawa & Fran­cis Ford Cop­po­la Star in Japan­ese Whisky Com­mer­cials (1980)

Woody Allen Lives the “Deli­cious Life” in Ear­ly-80s Japan­ese Com­mer­cials

The Best Japan­ese Com­mer­cial Ever? James Brown Sells Miso Soup

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture and writes essays on lit­er­a­ture, film, cities, Asia, and aes­thet­ics. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­lesA Los Ange­les Primer. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

Watch Very First Film Adaptations of Shakespeare’s Plays: King John, The Tempest, Richard III & More (1899–1936)

Shake­speare sells: coun­ter­in­tu­itive, but seem­ing­ly true. The film indus­try, which pumps out Shake­speare adap­ta­tions (of vary­ing lev­els of cre­ativ­i­ty) on the reg­u­lar, has known this ever since it could hard­ly have had much aware­ness of itself as a film indus­try. At the top, we have the only sur­viv­ing scene from 1899’s King John, where Shake­speare on screen all start­ed.

“The next three decades would see var­ied approach­es to the chal­lenge of film­ing Shake­speare in a medi­um denied the spo­ken word,” writes the British Film Insti­tute’s Michael Brooke, “from the imag­i­na­tive tableaux-style mime of Per­cy Stow’s The Tem­pest (1908) to trun­cat­ed pro­duc­tions of the major tragedies (Richard III, 1911; Ham­let, 1913).” Excerpts from one of these last, F.R. Ben­son’s Richard III, you can watch just below:

Ear­ly Shake­speare adapters like Ben­son tend­ed to make less Shake­speare films than, as Brooke puts it, “com­pi­la­tions of mem­o­rable moments” from the plays. Then again, every genre of movie attempt­ed sim­ple things back then, and Shake­speare­an pro­duc­tions would grow far rich­er in the sound era, which 1929’s The Tam­ing of the Shrew ush­ered in for the Bard, and with no less a sil­ver-screen leg­end than Mary Pick­ford in the role of Kate.

Sev­en years lat­er, the not-yet-Sir Lau­rence Olivi­er, “cin­e­ma’s first great Shake­speare­an artist,” would make his Shake­speare debut as Orlan­do in Paul Czin­ner’s As You Like It (1936), which you can watch below. He’d almost made this debut as the lead in George Cuko­r’s Romeo & Juli­et, but ulti­mate­ly turned it down.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

What Shake­speare Sound­ed Like to Shake­speare: Recon­struct­ing the Bard’s Orig­i­nal Pro­nun­ci­a­tion

A Sur­vey of Shakespeare’s Plays (Free Course) 

Shakespeare’s Satir­i­cal Son­net 130, As Read By Stephen Fry

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture and writes essays on lit­er­a­ture, film, cities, Asia, and aes­thet­ics. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­lesA Los Ange­les Primer. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

Watch Slipping Storm Troopers in Previously Unseen Blooper Reel & Outtakes from Star Wars

The “bloop­er” reel above from the film­ing of Star Wars: Episode 4, we’re told by io9, is “brand new” footage. Brand new to us, of course. Dis­cov­ered by a Red­di­tor, it made the rounds yes­ter­day and every­one pro­nounced it amaz­ing. And so it is. Many scenes lack audio, mak­ing the humor all the more sub­tle. We get some line flubs, action scenes gone awk­ward, and the vin­tage ear­ly title below.

SWVintageTitle

If you’re any­thing like every­one else I know who’s seen this (if you’re read­ing this—you like­ly are), you’ll watch the two and a‑half minute reel at least two or three times, if not more. And if you find your­self less than jazzed about the com­ing of Star Wars: Episode 7 (or about the exis­tence of episodes 1–3), we’ll at least have the hun­dreds of new memes spawned by this ridicu­lous footage. As i09 says, “get to GIF-ing, peo­ple.” And get to writ­ing dia­logue for those silent scenes.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Watch the Very First Trail­ers for Star Wars, The Empire Strikes Back & Return of the Jedi (1976–83)

Pho­tog­ra­ph­er Revis­its Aban­doned Movie Sets for Star Wars and Oth­er Clas­sic Films in North Africa

Star Wars Uncut: The Epic Fan Film

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness.

Doodlebug, Christopher Nolan’s First Short: What Came Before The Dark Night, Memento & Inception (1997)

We know British film­mak­er Christo­pher Nolan best today for direct­ing the lat­est tril­o­gy of Bat­man films, Bat­man BeginsThe Dark Knight, and The Dark Knight Ris­es. His recent high-pro­file non-super­hero hit Incep­tion made an impres­sive, if brief, splash as a main­stream brain­ben­der, which, for me, faint­ly echoed the thrill he sent through the world of crossover inde­pen­dent film with 2000’s back­ward-told Memen­to. Yet, if this does­n’t make me too much of an I‑liked-the-ear­ly-stuff-cliché, I still think of him most fond­ly for direct­ing his 1998 fea­ture debut Fol­low­ing, a 16-mil­lime­ter, black-and-white, $6000-bud­get tale of theft, imper­son­ation, and iden­ti­ty shot on the streets of Lon­don. (One of the char­ac­ters breaks into an apart­ment with a now-strik­ing Bat­man logo on its door.) But even a project as small-scale as Fol­low­ing has a pre­de­ces­sor, Doo­dle­bug, which you can watch above.

“The depths of insan­i­ty are explored by a man chas­ing some­thing in his apart­ment with a shoe,” promis­es the video descrip­tion of the three-minute Doo­dle­bug. In the cen­ter of this shad­owy, para­noid tale we have Jere­my Theobald, who would go on to star in Fol­low­ing (and appear as a Gotham Water Board Tech­ni­cian in Bat­man Begins). Nolan shot it back in his days study­ing Eng­lish lit­er­a­ture at Uni­ver­si­ty Col­lege Lon­don, a school whose film soci­ety he led and which he chose express­ly for the avail­abil­i­ty of its cam­eras and edit­ing gear. His ear­ly, hand­made pic­tures have become even more fas­ci­nat­ing to watch in light of his dec­la­ra­tions in DGA Quar­ter­ly inter­view that he far prefers shoot­ing in film to shoot­ing dig­i­tal­ly, and that 3D tech­nol­o­gy has­n’t much impressed him. But he hard­ly dis­dains spec­ta­cle, and the arti­cle con­tains a good deal of talk about how he uses CGI and crafts action sequences. Over the years, Nolan’s core enthu­si­asms seem­ing­ly haven’t changed; even Doo­dle­bug, espe­cial­ly by stu­dent-film stan­dards, has some pret­ty cool spe­cial effects.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Dark Knight: Anato­my of a Flawed Action Scene

Slavoj Žižek’s Pervert’s Guide to Ide­ol­o­gy Decodes The Dark Knight and They Live

The First Films of Great Direc­tors: Kubrick, Cop­po­la, Scors­ese, Taran­ti­no & Truf­faut

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture and writes essays on lit­er­a­ture, film, cities, Asia, and aes­thet­ics. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­lesA Los Ange­les Primer. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

Watch Red Shirley, Lou Reed’s Short Documentary on His Fascinating 100-Year-Old Cousin (2010)

From fronting the Vel­vet Under­ground to putting out four sol­id sides of feed­back noise to col­lab­o­rat­ing with Metal­li­ca on a semi-spo­ken word album based on the plays of Frank Wedekind, the late avant-rock­er Lou Reed had a way of nev­er work­ing on quite what you’d expect him to. Eas­i­er said than done, of course, but Reed man­aged to sus­tain a long, always-inter­est­ing career and posi­tion in the cul­ture by exer­cis­ing that strength not just in music but in oth­er forms as well. Above we have Red Shirley, a half-hour doc­u­men­tary film he made with Ralph Gib­son in 2010. (Score pro­vid­ed by “the Met­al Machine Trio”.) We get the premise up front, onscreen: “On the eve of her 100th birth­day, Lou sat down with his cousin Shirley for a tête-à-tête.” Most near­ly-100-year-olds have, pre­sum­ably, seen a lot; Shirley Novick has seen even more.

“Dur­ing World War I she emerged unscathed from Poland after her fam­i­ly’s house was hit by a dud shell,” writes the Wall Street Jour­nal’s Nico­las Rapold in an arti­cle that also includes Reeds own’s reflec­tions on his cousin and her thor­ough­ly his­tor­i­cal life. “At 19, she jour­neyed to Cana­da with­out her par­ents, thus escap­ing the fate of rel­a­tives dur­ing World War II. (‘Hitler took care of them,’ she curt­ly remarks in the film.)

Leav­ing Cana­da, which she deemed ‘too provin­cial,’ Ms. Novick joined thou­sands of immi­grants in New York City’s gar­ment indus­try. There, over the course of 47 years, her debate skills came in handy as an out­spo­ken activist dur­ing union scraps. She would lat­er join the 1963 civ­il rights march on Wash­ing­ton.” Snag­films tags Red Shirley with the apt label “fas­ci­nat­ing peo­ple,” but for a sol­id doc­u­men­tary, you also need a fas­ci­nat­ed inter­view­er, and Reed fills that role. “The only oth­er thing I would like to do is make a movie about mar­tial arts,” Reed told Rapold. “Like, trav­el around to dif­fer­ent teach­ers and tour­na­ments, com­pare tech­niques and train­ing.” That we’ll nev­er see it now fills me with regret.

The film should be view­able in most all geo­gra­phies, or so our Twit­ter fol­low­ers tell us. (Our apolo­gies if you’re not in one of them.) You can find Red Shirley per­ma­nent­ly housed in our col­lec­tion of 575 Free Movies Online.

Relat­ed con­tent:

Lou Reed — Vel­vet Under­ground Front­man, Influ­en­tial Solo Musi­cian — Dead at 71

Hear New­ly-Released Mate­r­i­al from the Lost Acetate Ver­sion of The Vel­vet Under­ground & Nico (1966)

Warhol’s Screen Tests: Lou Reed, Den­nis Hop­per, Nico, and More

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture and writes essays on lit­er­a­ture, film, cities, Asia, and aes­thet­ics. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­lesA Los Ange­les Primer. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

Watch 8 New Video Essays on Wes Anderson’s Films: Rushmore, The Royal Tenenbaums & More

We Wes Ander­son-watch­ers have only just begun eager­ly antic­i­pat­ing the The Grand Budapest Hotel, the direc­tor’s next live-action film star­ing Ralph Fiennes, F. Mur­ray Abra­ham, and new­com­er Tony Revolori (and fea­tur­ing, need we even add, a cer­tain Bill Mur­ray). But see­ing as it won’t appear in the­aters until March of next year, we’ll for now have to busy our­selves with its trail­er and var­i­ous oth­er pieces of Ander­so­ni­ana. Among the most intrigu­ing new items in this group we have a book called The Wes Ander­son Col­lec­tion, an in-depth exam­i­na­tion of Ander­son­’s fil­mog­ra­phy built around a book-length con­ver­sa­tion (think Hitchcock/Truffaut, albeit pos­sessed of a dif­fer­ent sen­si­b­li­ty, to put it mild­ly) with crit­ic Matt Zoller Seitz. The videos here from his blog on RogerEbert.com adapt cer­tain sec­tions of the book on Ander­son­’s first five pic­tures: Bot­tle Rock­et, Rush­moreThe Roy­al Tenen­baumsThe Life Aquat­ic with Steve Zis­sou, and The Dar­jeel­ing Lim­it­ed. 

The Wes Ander­son Col­lec­tion is a book that was about twen­ty years in the mak­ing,” says Zoller Seitz in the book’s trail­er. “When Wes and Owen Wil­son got their short film Bot­tle Rock­et into the Sun­dance Film Fes­ti­val, I went to meet them at a burg­er joint in Dal­las. We were play­ing pool togeth­er. I’m pret­ty sure Wes won. About three years ago, our paths crossed again, and the result was this book. I love Wes’ style. I think if he were a writer, he’d be some­body like a Hem­ing­way, who does­n’t use a lot of adjec­tives. He takes var­i­ous influ­ences and turns them into some­thing that’s unique­ly his. There’s a charm, and a famil­iar­i­ty, and an easy­go­ing qual­i­ty to all his movies. His movies reward rewatch­ing.”

Some com­plain that Ander­son “just makes the same movie over and over again,” but giv­en what the film­mak­er has demon­strat­ed of his com­mand of cin­e­ma at this point in his career, you almost might as well also accuse Ozu of just mak­ing the same movie over and over again. “I think the detail-obsessed fetishists are real­ly going to dig this book,” Zoller Seitz adds. If Ander­son hap­pens to count any of those among his fans, this book may well have a chance.

… Hold the phones. The final install­ments are now out, and we’ve added them to the post.

The Dar­jeel­ing Lim­it­ed

Fan­tas­tic Mr. Fox

Moon­rise King­dom

Grand Budapest Hotel

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Wes Ander­son from Above. Quentin Taran­ti­no From Below

Bill Mur­ray Intro­duces Wes Anderson’s Moon­rise King­dom (And Plays FDR)

Wes Anderson’s First Short Film: The Black-and-White, Jazz-Scored Bot­tle Rock­et (1992)

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture and writes essays on lit­er­a­ture, film, cities, Asia, and aes­thet­ics. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­lesA Los Ange­les Primer. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

Download Vintage Film Posters in High-Res: From The Philadelphia Story to Attack of the Crab Monsters

philadelphiastory

FreeVintagePosters.com offers “hun­dreds of high qual­i­ty print­able posters in adver­tis­ing, trav­el, food/drink, art, movies, west­erns, mil­i­tary, mag­ic and much more.” You may have an inter­est in all those facets of human expe­ri­ence, but we imag­ine you’ll find espe­cial­ly appeal­ing the site’s selec­tion of high-res­o­lu­tion film posters, suit­able for print­ing at home or else­where and hang­ing on walls in need of cinephilic flair.

You might, for exam­ple, choose to put up the orig­i­nal poster for George Cuko­r’s The Philadel­phia Sto­ry, which promis­es you a “Howl with Your Favorite Hol­ly­wood Stars” — Cary Grant, Katharine Hep­burn, and James Stew­art, in this case. Or if you pre­fer west­erns to come­dies, per­haps you’d like to print out one of the three avail­able posters of 1971’s John Wayne-star­ring Big Jake, my favorite of which pitch­es the movie with a sim­ple if odd equa­tion: “Big John = Big Jake = Big West­ern.” (Note: you can watch 21 John Wayne west­erns here.)

bigjake

Though the site’s col­lec­tion slants toward clas­sic Amer­i­can films, it also has sheets used to adver­tise them abroad. Below you see the pho­to­col­lage-like Japan­ese poster for Bil­ly Wilder’s Some Like It Hot. And the lover of camp will find much to enjoy as well. Might I sug­gest Attack of the Crab Mon­sters? What­ev­er your taste, if you decide to head out to the print shop and com­mis­sion a paper ver­sion of any of these image files in a larg­er size than you can print at home, do con­sult StandardPosterSize.net, which, true to its name, pro­vides all man­ner of infor­ma­tion on the var­i­ous siz­ings of U.S. stan­dard posters, met­ric stan­dard posters, U.S. movie posters, and U.K. movie posters. If that sounds like a lit­tle too much has­sle, you could always just down­load your favorite poster and set it as your desk­top back­ground. Before you sign off, make sure you check out our col­lec­tion 575 Free Movies Online: Great Clas­sics, Indies, Noir, West­erns, etc. It’s some­thing no cin­e­ma lover should miss.

some-like-it-hot-vintage-movie-poster-japanese-www.freevintageposters.com

via Men­tal Floss

Relat­ed Con­tent:

50 Film Posters From Poland: From The Empire Strikes Back to Raiders of the Lost Ark

Japan­ese Movie Posters of 10 David Lynch Films

100 Great­est Posters of Film Noir

64 Years of Posters for the Cannes Film Fes­ti­val

John Wayne: 21 Free West­ern Films Online

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture and writes essays on lit­er­a­ture, film, cities, Asia, and aes­thet­ics. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­lesA Los Ange­les Primer. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

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