“I don’t understand why anyone would want to get married these days,” says Jean. “I think it’s nice,” says Marie, a friend. “What, taking some bloke’s name? You think that’s ‘nice’? Giving up the name you were born with and taking some bloke’s name? What’s nice about that? It’s like fucking slavery or something. It’s
She watched the car pull up to the side of the station, positioning itself noncommittally by the black wrought iron gate that lined the main road. She spotted it immediately. It’s light blue body distinct against the dense, suffocating rain that obscured the other nondescript vehicles; opaque slabs of colour that were sliding in and
Capturing Op Toral 1649L How far did we travel, Stevens? My guess it was fifteen, twenty minutes. Eighteen, twenty K, something like that. Recognise anything? Nothing, stinking fuckin’ rag wrapped round my eyes. I was out for a bit, pressed down on the back seat. Couldn’t suss anything out. South, I think. I counted five
Let me start by affirming something: I LOVE a good coming-of-age story. I also LOVE well-written dialogue. And complex female characters. And a score by Jon Brion. And, from what I’ve seen of her on-screen persona, Greta Gerwig, always a joy to watch and seemingly impossible to dislike. Another thing: I don’t normally like to
