Left to my own devices

Here we are, the last batch of Top 100 songs before we enter the top 50 echelon. There are all good tracks, and I'm happy to talk about them, so, here we go...

We're back with another installment of Matt's favorite songs of the 2010s! So, here they are, the next ten...

There's a recent article featuring Starbucks COO Rosalind Brewer, and her thoughts and experiences on how certain folks -- including herself -- are treated based upon the color of their skin, and/or how they dress. Brewer is quoted about what it's like being an African-American woman in such a powerful corporate position, and how it's lonely at the top. It's an interesting read, more for what isn't there than what is. What bothered me about the article was the pervasive tone that someone in Brewer's position should be treated better than she sometimes is. The following passage stood out to me in that regard: ""Sometimes you're mistaken for the kitchen help. Sometimes people will assume you're in the wrong place, and all I can think is, 'No, you're in the wrong place.'"" I get what she's saying, but it's the wrong message, surely? What we first need to unpack is the notion that "kitchen hel...

We're back with the third installment of Matt's favorite songs of the 2010s! It's beginning to become a little bit difficult start ranking these (something I didn't think would happen 'til the Top 50), so here they are, the next ten...

We're back with the next round of songs in my countdown of of the Top 100 songs of the decade! Check here for the first ten songs. Hope you find these next few at least interesting. Here goes.....

First things first: the title is a bit of a misnomer. What you are about to read isn't an overview of the "best" songs of from 2010 through 2019, which would require some sense of objectivity. These are my favorite tracks of the decade, in all their varied, often stupendous, sometimes awful, upside down glory. Now that we have that out of the way, let's begin. Over the next month, I will periodically drop a 10-song chunk of the Top 100 list, in countdown order. Today, we begin with songs 91 through 100. It would be tempting to label these "the bottom ten," but that would be inaccurate, as there are a lot -- A LOT -- of songs that I listened to during this decade that haven't made the cut. So, consider these the least of the best. Hmm, not sure that sounds much better. Regardless, here we go...

Someone on Twitter shared an article about amatonormativity recently. I read it, and found it interesting. The article posits that our society places too much of an emphasis on the supposed virtues of romance, monogamy, and generally romantic and sexual coupling, to the detriment of the healthy and deeper development of platonic friendships. Indeed, it would seem to put a stigma on being single and alone (or "self-partnered," as the Harry Potter grown-up-kids prefer to call themselves ).  From the article: "Amatonormativity is, essentially, "the assumption that a central, exclusive, amorous relationship is normal for humans, in that it is a universally shared goal, and that such a relationship is normative, in the sense that it should be aimed at in preference to other relationship types," according to Elizabeth Brake." This is one of those scenarios where I don't necessarily disagree with the premise, but have doubts about what comes af...

Regular readers of this blog, along with people who know me in real life, know that I love movies. It should therefore come as no surprise that, as the second decade of the 21st century comes to a close, I'm taking a page from roger.ebert.com  and making a list of my Top 25 films of the decade Granted, there's still two months left in the year, and that is when Oscar beat season typically grinds into full swing, but it would probably do a disservice to the previous 118 months by holding out on making the list, in case some unexpectedly wonderful piece of cinema should drop soon (something better than the decade has brought forward so far). So, we push ahead. It should be noted that these are all, obviously, subjective picks. You could call them my favorites, though I am truly attempting to choose what I consider to be the best from the past ten years. With that out of the way, let's proceed.

For a lot of people, Monty Python and the Holy Grail is humorous piece of cinema, entertaining a multitude of audiences for over four decades, and helping to cement the comedy troupe's bonafides as masters of hilarity. Sure, it's all those things to me, but it is also more. There is a sobering element to it that has nothing to do with the film itself. I was a junior in high school and, up to that point, had only ever seen the Monty Python's Flying Circus TV show. A multimedia class taken earlier in high school had seen a fair amount of students using Ren & Stimpy and Monty Python audio files for projects (or just to mess around with), and so I'd heard snippets of dialogue from Holy Grail before seeing the film (if I never hear "We are the knights who say 'ni'" ever again, that will be okay).

An ad for a game popped-up recently on my feed, and the mood struck me as, 'sure, why not?' So I put the game on my phone and started playing. The game is BitLife, and its concept is that you basically live out someone's life, from birth to death. You can receive a random life, or choose from several. It tells you who your parents are, their age, whether or not you were a planned pregnancy, and if you have any siblings or family pets. Your location in the world is also known to you. It should be said that I am not trying to sell you on this game. I have no affiliation with it. Mostly, I was taken aback at how it impacted me. BitLife is a fun, and somewhat bittersweet experience. It allows you to live out a life you never had, and make different choices than perhaps you made during your own existence. The game also provided me with a glimpse into how I might respond to things during old age, and that was perhaps the most emotional aspect of all.

When I was a kid, I once spent an afternoon reading a book under an umbrella, alongside a pond. It was a slim volume, An Unearthly Child , a novelization of the very first Doctor Who story. The author was Terrance Dicks. The surroundings were lush and green. The pond was still. It made for a pleasant afternoon. Mom and I had traveled to visit an old college friend of hers. I forget where we went exactly, or who the friend was. What sticks in the memory is that she lived in a house by a pond. As the two adults began to talk in earnest, catching-up on life and what not, I had no desire to listen to them talk. The book mom had recently purchased for me was calling my name. A huge fan of the Doctor Who  television program, I'd never seen the original first few episodes, and this book was the closest I had to experiencing it. Soon, I voiced my desire to exit the presence of the adults. Mom's friend was very nice. She suggested the pond area as a reading ground. It struc...

Click the map to create your own at 270toWin.com I don't like this blog to be too political (with a capital P), but sometimes the mood hits me and, well, why not? It's not like I don't follow politics, just that I like this place on the Internet to be a bit of a respite from it. Not today. Like a lot of people, I am in constant hope that Donald Trump will be a one-term president. I am also, however, inclined to cynicism, and so often keep one foot firmly planted in the Be-Mentally/Emotionally-Prepared-For-a-Second-Term camp. To that end, I thought it would be interesting (though perhaps not ultimately illuminating) to review presidential elections of incumbents during the last 50 years, and see how they fared. We've learned just this century -- twice -- that the popular vote doesn't matter, so I'm going to focus on the Electoral College. Basically, we're going to look at two things: Did the incumbent's Electoral College numbers go up o...

I follow a lot of film aficionados on Twitter, and there's been a steady increase there of consternation regarding the streaming wars that are heating-up with the arrival of Disney+ and other rivals joining the fray. A few years ago, some folks would smugly proclaim, for all to hear, how they were "cutting the cord" from cable and going to save a lot of money by streaming. That was back when Netflix and Hulu were about the only games in town. Now, a plethora of streaming services await our hard-earned cash, and barely any are well-rounded enough to serve as someone's sole streaming platform. Coupled with the myriad of choices opening up faster than multiverses crashing into one another is the issue that certain film aficionados also like to mention, which is the reality that we are basically paying to continually rent movies and TV shows from streaming services. We never truly own them, as we're at the mercy of the streaming service to keep the content av...

The sexuality of one's friends isn't something I think about often. Well, why would you? The interests and commonalities we share with our platonic companions is enough to sate any curiosity we may have about them. We share our lives with them, talk about our days, perhaps recall moments that were shared together, and maybe discuss our plans for the future. The gender of their attraction isn't necessarily of paramount importance.

M y dad died twenty-two years ago today. He has now been gone for longer than I knew him. The other day I was thinking about how much of a factor time plays in the effectiveness of our relationships with people. While it is certainly important, I think it plays less of a role than we give it credit for. The bonds we forge with people can be made relatively quickly, their intensity dependent upon a multitude of factors -- time being only one of them.

Obviously, Star Wars didn't teach me everything there is know about life, but it certainly helped. I can recall watching the Darth Vader / Luke Skywalker clash in Return of the Jedi and thinking of my own problems with my father. The older I get, the more I identify with Obi-Wan Kenobi, particularly when he's urging caution at following the supposedly stray tie-fighter, but the younger, impetuous Han Solo won't listen. And, the sequel trilogy struck me with the already-creeping realization that the vicious circle of good vs. evil is cyclical, rather than final, in nature.

"When are you going to hug me?" - character of Elton John, in Rocketman "I long for your inscrutable pale face I hunger for your beautiful embrace" - Pet Shop Boys, King of Rome Physical intimacy is an often taboo subject for discussion. It either happens or it doesn't. It is not something that people often examine in great detail, therefore, it's probably an odd topic for me to write about. Still, I am fascinated by our interactions, and why people are the way they are. So it goes. Being physically close with someone doesn't come naturally to yours truly. I am always conscious of whether or not to initiate the interaction, whether it be romantic or platonic. Who knows? That may be the way it is for everyone, though sometimes I will witness two people -- often two friends, and often two women -- embrace each other as though it were second nature, as though it were simple and honest and the right thing to do. Perhaps it was, for...

I recently watched the new movie, The Farewell , and it got me to thinking. Starring the versatile and talented actress Awkwafina as the main character, Billi, The Farewell is, on the surface anyway, about a family saying goodbye to their matriarch. Billi's grandmother, known as Nai Nai, has been diagnosed with cancer and given months to live. The entire family (Billi's parents, cousins, aunts and uncles) stage a hasty wedding as an excuse to get everyone together. Billi and her family are originally from China, and the film's conceit is that, in Chinese culture, sometimes a family will shield a loved one from news of their own mortality. Nai Nai's family have done this with her. Billi (and others) struggle with this. The Farewell is a fine bit of cinema, and what struck me most about it wasn't the aspect of hiding Nai Nai's illness from her, but the notions of time and place that run as a current -- both verbally and unspoken -- throughout the movi...

I have been plagued lately with a feeling of exhaustion. It is not, I think, a sensation of true fatigue, as that is a medical condition that consists of (among other things) unrelenting weariness. This sense of feeling utterly tired comes and goes, and isn't constant. So there goes the self-diagnosis. It's accuracy is anyone's guess. The causes of the exhaustion are many. The first quarter of the year was usurped by a campaign for re-election to public office. That took a physical, mental and emotional toll. The summer has seen many excursions out of town to various places, for various reasons. While all of the trips have been under the guise of fun, they haven't provided much downtime. Work has been extremely busy. It seems like there hasn't been a period yet where it's been like: Ok, now we can catch our breath . Then there is the seemingly never-ending struggle with navigating the waters of friendship. There's a part of me that never seems to be...

Sometimes someone says something and it doesn't appear to make a lot of sense. It's not that they're speaking gibberish. We aren't suddenly worried about their cognitive function. More like a non sequitur. That, or you simply think what they said was a tad odd. This happened recently and, as I was on a walk later thinking about it, the thought occurred to tap into some empathy.They could, potentially, not have known what to give voice to in the moment, and therefore said whatever came to mind. Some people may not know how to handle silence.

It would seem a tad dramatic to remark that I am here today (as opposed to being long-dead) because of one particular person, though it would at least in part be the truth. His name was Chris, and he was a classmate back in high school. He was a popular kid and I, well, I was not. He was young, blond-haired, handsome. I idolized him, in that perhaps unhealthy way that adoration of the concept of the person can lead to not really knowing the actual person. Chris wasn't perfect by any means, but then who is? I should probably clarify something at this juncture: Chris isn't dead. Sometimes I write these missives and it is because someone I knew has died recently, or has been dead for some time, and I remembering them for some reason. So, no, Chris is very much alive. In fact, the impetus for writing about him here is that I saw his picture on social media recently. And, no, he isn't the person I was writing about in the last blog post .

His face was staring back at mine, frozen in its digital essence. The person had commented on the post of an online friend and, well, there it was, a link to his profile along with an accompanying picture. Pretty standard stuff as far as social media is concerned. Only the person whose photo was staring back at me through the computer screen stimulated a minor negative response within my psyche. He was someone I'd known in high school and who had engaged in some minor bullying. Bullying is, unfortunately, commonplace. It can occur during adulthood, but seems rife during our youth. Beginning in fifth grade, right on through senior year of high school, bullying was often just a regular part of my school life. Some of it was slight (verbal taunting, etc.), while at other times it was more serious (threats, or actual acts, of violence). Again, this person's profile that I'd suddenly come across online was in the former camp. And yet it was enough for the connotation to ...

Our paths cross, briefly, likely never to rejoin. So it goes for, what, 98... 99% of the world's population? Perhaps more? The one-and-done encounters occur so often, are so much a part of the fabric of our lives, that we scarcely give it a thought. I know I don't, not often, anyway. But this past month saw a change in that, and I'm not sure why.

We're a little over halfway through 2019, and I wanted to compile a list of my Top 10 favorite movies of the year (so far). I've seen about twenty-five 2018 films, so this is a little less than half of them, ranked. Right, here we go... 1. Booksmart 2. Toy Story 4 3. Rocketman 4. Spider-Man: Far From Home 5. Photograph 6. Gloria Bell 7. The Mustang 8. Happy Death Day 2U 9. The Perfect Date 10. Always Be My Maybe To be perfectly honest, it's been a somewhat underwhelming year in cinema. I don't mean that to damn the aforementioned films with faint praise. They're all good. I'm just still waiting to be really wowed by a movie this year.

He sat on the floor of my bedroom, his back supported by the side of the bed. He'd scrunched his face up into concentration as he reviewed the issue I was having with my television and its remote control (they didn't seem to be working). This was Kyle, the first person I'd felt heightened emotions for, and he was sitting there in my room attempting to help. I'd mentioned the issue to Kyle earlier in the day, during our Junior year high school English class, mostly as an aside per a throwaway discussion as to what was going on in our respective lives. He volunteered to come over that evening and see if he could help. It was a nice gesture. It would also score some nice points with my mom, who'd already met him on a few previous occasions when he'd come over to have lunch with us during the school day.

It was during the Autumn of 2015 that we found ourselves at the border of Canada and the United States. It was my second time leaving the country. Ashley had coordinated procuring our passports some three years earlier, and those little booklets literally opened-up the world to us. So, there we were, in our car at the checkpoint. The official who looked-over our passports was nice. He asked how long we thought we might be in Canada, and what we were there for (not suspiciously, just politely matter-of-fact). We answered, and were on our way. The return was a little different. Upon re-entering the U.S., a different official was terse, a slight air of distrust about him. It was not a welcoming experience, though we were eventually let through without issue. The aforementioned encounters are purely personal and anecdotal, but they stood out to me in their contrast, and I am sometimes reminded of them when reading about the ongoing issues surrounding immigration (illegal or oth...

It was one of those situations many of us have found ourselves in. We're in a group setting, and the dreaded, 'Why don't we introduce ourselves?' suggestion is proffered. So, everyone sitting at the table introduces themselves. The tone is set with the first few introductions: name, followed by what they do for a living. Pretty standard stuff. Unfortunately, this caught me in the midst of one of those 'Who am I really? What is life all about?' moods, so I wasn't really feeling the meet and greet session. Eventually, we come around to me, and it's just my name. That's all I cared to give. The leader of the group seemed perturbed, so I caved and offered-up where I work. They then followed that by mentioning another organization I'm a part of, and my role there. It was all very awkward, and no doubt I came-off a bit odd to the new person in the group. Regardless, presenting ourselves -- first and foremost -- by our jobs has always bothere...

The St. Louis Blues are playing the Boston Bruins in the Stanley Cup Final. In the world of hockey, it's a pretty big deal. It's their World Series, so whoever wins the best-of-7 games is pretty much the NHL champion for the 2018-19 season. At least, that's as much as yours truly can glean from things, given that I'm not all that into sports. I root for the Illini teams by virtue of where I was born. The St. Louis Cardinals are a family tradition on my mom's side. And the Blues (and hockey) were introduced by way of someone who means a lot to me, so that explains why I like those teams. Why all this talk about sports in general, and the St. Louis Blues in particular? It's because much has been made of how this could potentially be the Blues' first Stanley Cup win in their fifty-two year history. And they last played for the Cup some forty-nine years ago, so what's happening this week is bit of a rare occurrence ( kind of like when the Cubs actual...

Yesterday, during a back & forth professional e-mail chain, a business partner wrote: "Congratulations to your daughter on her acceptance to the university!" I stopped for a moment, taken aback at the obviously incorrect statement. Yours truly has never been in a position to father a child, dear reader, and so the laudation was, alas, misdirected. A couple of e-mails later, and all was sorted out. The person had meant to send the remarks to someone else. No harm, no foul. Afterward, I had turned the exchange into a minor story of mirth, regaling a couple of co-workers about it, and even posting it online to social media. Chuckle chuckle, there's no way Matt could have a daughter out there -- or could he? Ha ha, but no. Admittedly, I had a few seconds of slight panic at the thought of an offspring I was unaware of. The alarm was uncalled for, of course, which at the moment made it even more amusing. And then, as the day wore on, a rather surprising sen...

There has been much online (and real life) consternation regarding the eighth and final season of Game of Thrones that just finished airing. Particularly, many felt that the final six episodes felt rushed, and didn't conclude the sprawling plot threads weaved over the years in a very satisfying manner. It's also fair to say that a fair number of fans were quite fine with how things were wrapped-up, and don't really get what all the fuss is about. I suppose it is the hallmark of a mega-popular program that people even care enough to be upset by something that is basically a bunch of people acting on a screen. It is a testament to the creative abilities of all involved with the production that they managed to enthrall so many for such a number of years. So, kudos to Game of Thrones , however controversially it ended its run. It made people care, and that's not something that can be said about everything available to watch on television. What fascinates me abo...

Profuse profanity. Catty remarks. Bad news. Pleasure in others' suffering. Near-constant outrage. In-case-you-didn't-know posts about depressing situations, sometimes accompanied by terse, negative commentary. These things are often commonplace on social media (I'm an old man, so for me that means Facebook and Twitter). Accessing social media sometimes requires taking a deep breath, bracing oneself for whatever gloomy, pessimistic entries one may find from others. Then, as I was scrolling through my Facebook feed one day last summer, my left wrist buzzed. Thinking it was a notification of a text or e-mail, I glanced at it only to find the following message: "Your Apple Watch has detected a heartbeat above 120 BPM while you were resting." It recommended keeping an eye on it, or seeking attention if necessary. And I was, indeed, resting, sitting lazily on the couch on a comfortable summer day. That was the deciding moment. I'd been contempla...

There was once a friend who told me he loved me. He said it very matter-of-fact, though there was some unease within his person about it. We sat there, on the bleachers at high school, blowing-off P.E. class one slightly overcast day, and we were talking, just shooting the breeze. There was a lot of subtext to our conversation, though I wasn't really analyzing it at the time. I was expending a lot of energy talking bitterly about being friendless, and how I didn't really fit in anywhere. There was a nasty undercurrent to my words that I wasn't aware of.

I'd heard of the suicide, of course. Nearly everyone locally, who paid attention to the news, or was on social media, had heard of the death. I didn't know the man who died, though knew several people who did. Folks seemed in a state of shock. He'd had his demons, yes, but, as is so often the case, very few suspected that suicide would be the ultimate outcome of his mental and emotional travails. He was young, somewhere in his twenties, I think. Yet another life gone too soon. It was maybe a month or so later when I was contacted privately, online, via social media messenger, from the young man abroad. We'd never met and, honestly, I don't remember how we came to connect online. He was cute, certainly, and foreign. He'd spent some time in my town awhile back, then moved back home. We said the occasional 'Hello' to one another on social media, but that had been about the extent of our communication. Then one day, there was the message from him...

SPOILERS FOLLOW FOR AVENGERS: ENDGAME A vengers: Endgame , the latest blockbuster entry in the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU) debuted last  week to  positive reviews and a stellar box office take. It will likely have another great weekend, and many people I know have seen it more than once. More than just a movie, Endgame is a fairly well-done wrap-up to the first eleven years of the MCU. Personally, I think it's a great bit of fan service, but a somewhat uneven, muddled film (you can hear my expanded thoughts, and those of others, here ). Perhaps my favorite aspect of Avengers: Endgame was how it treats male heterosexuality. Before we get into that, however, it's worth mentioning that the movie -- the 22nd overall in the MCU -- featured its first openly gay character , portrayed by co-director Joe Russo. It was a touching moment, though brief. My reaction to it is in stark contrast to what I normally think of such moments. For the most part, I understand t...

During the mid-late 1980s, I read a ton of comic books, most of them Marvel. There were a few DCs in the mix. Frank Miller's The Dark Knight , and 1989's Batman movie with Michael Keaton and Jack Nicholson, were popular enough to have me check out some of their stuff. But Marvel seemed to have the fuller, more compelling universe of superheroes and villains (as it does now in the cinematic world). I used to read and compare the comics with my friend Derrick. Thor was our favorite. This was during the Walt Simonson era, which featured some powerful storytelling and unique artwork. Spider-Man was another good one, along with  The Silver Surfer , Secret Wars , and of course The Avengers . My interest in reading and collecting comic books ended about as abruptly as the intensity of my liking for them had burned. After a few years of enjoyment, and the end of a few tenures of creative teams across various titles, it became apparent that these stories would never end. Duri...

The late, great film critic Roger Ebert once noted (and I'm paraphrasing because I can't find the exact quote at the moment) that one of the benefits of relationships is that the other person acts as a sort of mirror to our lives. He was mostly referring to romantic couplings, though I think this can be expanded to encompass parents, friends and other platonic relationships. Indeed, sharing experiences with people helps create a collective memory, or sorts. These shared memories can help us bond, both in the moment and later on down the road, as the memories are recalled, hopefully fondly. What happens, however, when age and time begin to ravage the memory banks of our compatriots? Or, perhaps, ourselves? In reality, memory is often variable, and no two people will have exactly the same recollection of events. And yet, when one of those involved in the same situation begins to have no remembrance of it at all, then that is truly saddening. It is depressing for them, and...

      A s the magnificent, authentic voice of Aretha Franklin rang out across the Virgina Theatre, my mind found itself drifting to thoughts of my father. The screening of Aretha's long lost 1972 concert recorded at a Baptist church in Los Angeles sounded excellent, though something about it reminded me of a vinyl record. Despite its crisp, remastered production, there were elements of the listening experience that sounded real, down to earth, and warm. Perhaps it was the visual cues to go along with the sound? Directed by a then less-experienced Sydney Pollack and his crew, the picture would sometimes zoom in and out, coming into and out of focus at a frenzied pace. We saw some banter and  discussions of the musicians between songs. And then the lovely gospel music, brought to life by Ms. Franklin and the choir and musicians sharing the stage, was, well, divine. Going back many years, roughly a decade after Aretha Franklin's  Amazing Grace recording wa...

We're in April now, so it seems rather late for my annual Top 10 Songs of the Year list , and yet, here we are. It's been a busy year so far, so apologies for the delay (though it's doubtful many of you were waiting with bated breath for the reveal). Here, then, are my favorite songs from last year, starting with... 10. I Promise You , by Ezra Koenig The lead singer for one of the best bands out there, Vampire Weekend, sings this sweet little tune from the Peter Rabbit soundtrack. It's kinder than the movie was, thankfully. 9. Chances , by Backstreet Boys The older I get, the more personal nostalgia seems to play a role (as will be evident with a few other choices on this list). Hence, the inclusion of this track off the latest Backstreet Boys album. It isn't bad, and it reminds me of the '90s, when the group was first coming on the scene, and I enjoyed so much of their music. 8. Heart to Love , by Passenger Passenger (or, re...

I received an e-mail from one of the theater chains, announcing an upcoming screening of Cruel Intentions , to celebrate its 20th anniversary. The movie, originally released in March of 1999, and starring Sarah Michelle Gellar, Ryan Phillippe and Reese Witherspoon (at the height of their popularity), screams '90s to me. Perhaps it is just the moment in my life when I saw it, or the people I knew then? Regardless, seeing the e-mail about it's 20th anniversary re-release induced a wave of nostalgia that gave me pause. The screening of Cruel Intentions in 1999 is a particularly wistful memory, as one of us is no longer here. There were four of us -- Jared, Karmen, Amanda and myself -- and I think we may have actually watched it at a theater in Bloomington, where Amanda was living at the time. I remember it being a fun occasion, mostly because we seemed to enjoy one another's company, and the movie was a tad ridiculous. We laughed at it, sometimes because the movie ha...

The Oscars are this Sunday, so of course it's time for the 22nd Annual Matt Awards! I love going to the movies. It still holds the same excitement as when I was a kid. Of course, I have opinions about the films I see (check out the podcast here ), and so, in the late 1990s, I began my own little exercise to satiate my ego by having my own awards, wherein I selected the best in film, as a sort of counter to disappointment with the Academy Awards. All told, I saw 80-plus 2018 movies, and so many of them were above average. It is therefore difficult to winnow them down to just one winner in each category, but I have done so. Here, then, are the 2019 Matt Awards , honoring what yours truly believes to be the best in film from 2018.... Best Horror Film:  Hereditary The horror genre was strong in 2018. And, in my opinion, its definition expanded a bit last year (in a good way), Films like our winner, and A Quiet Place, Bird Box, Unsane , the Suspiria remake, and even Ann...