Like many people, I’d been looking forward to Martin Scorsese’s Killers of the Flower Moon for months, after the teasers started appearing on the internet. It was an “event” film, in a year laid low by the Hollywood strike and, as usual, the glut of franchise superhero movies that I’ve never watched, and never will; since Oppenheimer I’ve gone to the theater just twice, seeing the silly but funny Bottoms and Jonathan Demme’s nostalgia-steeped Stop Making Sense. At a matinee last Saturday at Baltimore’s Charles Theatre... Читать дальше...