Anne Billson

@annebillson.bsky.social

Auteur en filmcriticus, screenwriter, vertaler, fotograaf, evil feminist, wicked spinster, international cat-sitter. Likes frites, beer & chocolade. The Low Countries.

Here’s the latest stop motion animation from my Tiny Angry Witch team. (I’m the writer, I can’t take credit for the animating!) It’s one of our longest, and it nearly drove us all mad, but we’re really proud of getting it made! 1 x Tiny Angry Witch 1 x broom No AI

I have been looking at ironing boards because the asbestos of mine disintegrated & the new iron-stand I bought is not satisfactory so if the one you mentioned has a sensible place to put the iron I would be interested in buying it.

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oh dear this Peter Straub novel is not doing it for me: blah characters & setting, duff attempts at youth-speak & structure that keeps circling back to same events from different PoVs but without adding anything much, so it's tediously repetitive. Just over halfway through; might throw in the towel.

Daily Brad Dourif character! 12. Hazel Motes in John Huston’s film of Flannery O’Connor’s Wise Blood. Amazing book, amazing film, amazing performance. “The church of Christ without Christ. Where the blind can’t see, the lame can’t walk, and the dead stay that way.”

Brad Dourif in Wise BloodBrad Dourif in Wise BloodBrad Dourif in Wise BloodBrad Dourif in Wise Blood

‘The scores for both 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘞𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘔𝘢𝘯 and 𝘝𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘰 are the work of a composer who recognises that his task is to seek out the essence of the material on screen and to express that rather than himself.’ @jonathancoe.bsky.social on Hitchcock’s composer Bernard Herrmann. www.lrb.co.uk/the-paper/v4...

Jonathan Coe · Where was the drum kit? Hitchcock’s Music

The music Bernard Herrmann wrote for The Wrong Man is diffident, sometimes almost unnoticeable. His score for Hitchcock...

lrb.co.uk

Looksmaxxers: I need to hammer my jaw until it’s shaped like finely-sculpted clay and have a hairline straighter than the borders of Utah. It’s the only way to attract a woman Women: I would destroy ten galaxies for a night with James Gandolfini

Last night I watched Lucio Fulci's Don't Torture A Duckling. Despite (or because of) its limitations, it has that unique sense of "European uncanny". Fun twists, practical gore, and a streak of perversion that runs through it like the highway that sits above the landscape on vast concrete pillars.