Why 'Three Billboards' and 'Call Me by Your Name' leave this theater critic cold
Like many Americans, I find it increasingly easy to talk myself out of going to the movies. There's plenty to watch at home and so little to lure me back onto the roads and into those unfathomable parking structures from which no car is guaranteed of returning.
But awards season has a way of concentrating the middle-aged mind. As a drama critic who would rather read, whittle down the DVR listings or dart mindlessly down internet holes on his night off, I still consider it an obligation to support the handful of movies not targeted to the reptilian brain of tweens. But more to the point, I long to see my life reflected on the screen, and last I checked there was no flying saucer or caped muscleman flying outside my window.
2017 has departed without much regret, yet the year in movies wasn't nearly as depressing as the year in politics. If there wasn't a film that separated itself from the pack, an instant classic to gather up all the golden bric-a-brac and convince Americans that we really are a united people, there was enough
