Cover for the course I'm teaching this fall with Marsh and Erik. Gut flowers are sprouting, and we awake.
(For any around Santa Cruz this fall, expect a glut of screenings beyond the class as such. The Hammer films - the main thing to be talked about - are consistently weirder, sadder, nastier, funnier, and more like mouthfuls of cold knives than I ever expected. As such, they're far more important and compelling than they have any right to be. Come join.)