Page 1

my year in movies, 2019.

Some-fucking-how, I forgot to post a list like this for 2018.

If you’ve followed this blog for any length of time, you know that’s crazy. Literally insane. I have no idea how that happened. If nothing else, it speaks to my state of mind the last 18 months or so. 

Hear me, O Internet, I won’t make the same mistake again!

Anyway, I give you a list of every movie I watched in 2019.

Here’s the key:
(#) Movie I saw in the theater.
[#] Movie I saw for the first time.
E# Movies I watched with Emily.

If a movie has ** before it, that means it’s one of my favorite films I saw for the first time this year. Doesn’t matter when it came out, as long as I saw it for the first time this year.

Underlined titles are all-time favorites for me. They can’t be movies I’ve just seen, but movies that stand the test of time.

And away we go. 

1. Hunt for the Wilderpeople

2. Bird Box [1]
3. Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle [2] E1
4. Bandersnatch x1 [3]
5. Bandersnatch x2
**6. BlacKkKlansman [4] E2
7. Ocean’s Eight [5]
**8. American Animals [6] E3

9. Sorry to Bother You [7]
**10. First Man [8] E4
11. Ghost Stories [9]
12. The Place Beyond the Pines [10]
13. Bad Times at the El Royale [11] E5
14. Smokey and the Bandit [12]
15. Bohemian Rhapsody [13]
16. The Old Man and the Gun [14]
17. Central Intelligence [15]
**18. The Guilty [16] E6
**19. Seconds [17]
20. Captain Marvel [18] (1) E7
21. The Mirror [19]
22. State and Main [20]
23. Coming to America
24. Sleight [21]
**25. Widows [22]
**26. A Star is Born [23] E8
**27. Us [24] (2)

28. The Wedding Singer
29. John Wick – E9
30. Bumblebee [24]
31. Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse
32. Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore [25]
33. Venom [26]
34. Avengers: Infinity War – E10
35. Guardians of the Galaxy
36. John Wick: Chapter 2 – E11
37. Guava Island [27]
38. Shazam! [28] (3)
**39. Avengers: Endgame [29] (4)
40. Waiting for Guffman (5) E12
41. Five Easy Pieces [30]
42. Purple Rain [31]
43. The Sisters Brothers [32]
**44. Avengers: Endgame (6) E13
45. The Predator [33]
46. Triple Frontier [34]
47. Pokémon: Detective Pikachu [35] (7) E14
48. Long Shot [36] (8) E15
**49. A Face in the Crowd [37]
50. Thoroughbreds [38]
51. Lego Movie 2: The Second Part [39] E16
**52. Booksmart [40] (9) E17

53. Gaga: Five Foot Two [41] E18
54. Bullitt
**55. John Wick: Chapter 3 — Parabellum [42] (10)
56. Fast & Furious [43] E19
**57. After Hours [44]
58. Mid90s [45]
59. Hotel Artemis [46]
60. Searching [47]
61. Upgrade [48]
62. Thor: Ragnarok
**63. If Beale Street Could Talk [49] E20
**64. Us
65. I Am Mother [50]
**66. Spider-Man: Far From Home [51] (11) E21
67. The Secret Life of Walter Mitty [52]
68. Fast Five [53] E22
69. Enemy [54]
70. Crazy Rich Asians [55] E23
71. Snatch
72. Glass [56]
73. Always Be My Maybe [57] E24
**74. Once Upon a Time… in Hollywood [58] (12)

75. Hot Fuzz
**76. Ugetsu [59] (13)
**77. Tie Me Up, Tie Me Down [60] (14)
**78. Once Upon a Time… in Hollywood (15)
79. For a Few Dollars More
**80. Hereditary [61]
81. The Man Who Killed Don Quixote [62]
82. Mississippi Grind [63]
83. Creed II [64] E25
84. Aquaman [65]
85. Shazam – E26
86. My Blueberry Nights [66]
87. The Beach Bum [67]
88. Breakdown
89. Chef – E27
90. Coco
**91. The Farewell [68] (16) E28

**92. The Wages of Fear [69]
93. The Disaster Artist [70] E29
94. I Went Down [71]
95. Iron Man 2
96. Tokyo Story [72]
97. Candyman [73]
98. The Dead Don’t Die [74]
**99. Jojo Rabbit [75] (17) E30
100. The Last House on the Left [76]
101. Mandy [77]
102. Torn Curtain [78]
103. Joker [79] (18)
**104. Parasite [80] (19)
105. The Last Boy Scout
106. Anna and the Apocalypse [81]
107. Toy Story 4 [82] E31
108. Captain America: The First Avenger – E32
109. Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl
**110. Knives Out [83] (20) E33

111. The Lion King
**112. The Irishman [84] E34
113. Dark Passage [85]
**114. Dolemite is My Name [86]
115. Little Monsters (2019) [87]
**116. High Flying Bird [88]
117. High Life [89]
**118. Shadow [90]
**119. Ready or Not [91]
120. Under the Silver Lake [92]
**121. Hustlers [93] E35
122. Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker [94] (21) E36
**123. Little Women [95] (22) E37
124. Ad Astra [96] E38
**125. Marriage Story [97] E39
126. It: Chapter Two [98]


the best film retrospective supercut of the year, every year.

Every December, film critic David Ehrlic picks his 25 favorite movies of the year. Nothing special there, as most critics do that sort of thing. It’s what comes next that makes Ehrlic’s end of year list more exciting. He edits together a brilliant supercut celebrating the films he’s selected — and a bit of the year in film overall. It’s one of my favorite end of year events.

I love lists like this in general. Whether in movies, music, books, comics, whatever. I get to learn about stuff I would have missed, I get to see things I already love in a new light, or reevaluate something I disliked. Ehrlic isn’t shitting on stuff he hates, there’s no diatribe against the films he thinks are a waste of time, or ‘not cinema,’ or whatever. He’s simply celebrating the beauty of the films that mattered most to him throughout the year.

Each time, he includes films I absolutely loved, films that wouldn’t end up anywhere near my top 25, films I know I’ll probably love but haven’t gotten around to seeing yet, and hidden gems I didn’t even know existed, but now want to see as soon as possible (I’m looking at you Diamantino).

His supercuts are a celebration of the power of film in all its beauty and diversity. So many people make similar end of year videos, but Ehrlic is the master of the form.


orville peck — hope to die. [song(s) i’m obsessed with]

In truth, this is an entire album and artist that I’m obsessed with, but we can begin with the song that started it all.

Actually, it began with an episode of a YouTube series Amoeba Music does called ‘What’s in My Bag,’ wherein various artists wander around Amoeba and share what they put in their shopping bag and why.

I’m super late to all the parties these days, so I’d never heard of Orville Peck before watching his episode (which is embedded below).

I was intrigued by his affectation of wearing a fringed mask. Then my curiosity became too much to resist when the video revealed he’s disarmingly sweet and charming, with explanations leaving his thoughts as unguarded as his face is hidden. [Side note: as I barreled down the Orville Peck rabbit hole, his Live at KEXP performance doubled down on the charm, vulnerability, and charisma. That is also embedded below.]

I immediately went to YouTube to find a music video, ‘Hope to Die’ was the first hit, and I was hooked. The song and video are a remarkable orgy of a country song, great songwriting, amazing visuals, various gay subcultures, silliness, theatricality, and a broadway musical.

Peck is a gay, Canadian, outlaw country singer who is never seen performing or in official photographs without one of his many fringed masks — which he makes himself, by the way. That alone makes him a likely artist for me to find fascinating.

But what fuels my obsession is his personality and the work itself. The best way I can describe his debut album is that it contains hints — some more than others — of Merle Haggard, Roy Orbison, the Phantom of the Opera (because of his classically trained voice even more than the mask), the Cure, dream pop, and some Grand Ole Opry costuming and theatricality. I definitely missed a bunch of ingredients, but that’s what I’ve got for you off the top of my head.

I’m as quickly and as deeply obsessed as I’ve been with any artist I can remember in quite a while.

‘Hope to Die’ has maintained its spot as my favorite song on the album, but the #2 spot changes every few days. Every song on the album is a gem for one reason or another.

I know he’s not going to be for everyone who reads this blog, but he’s damn sure for me! Also, I just learned that he’s on the OST for HBO’s Watchmen series, so, I’m even later to this party than I thought.

As promised, ‘What’s in My Bag’ and a ‘Live at KEXP.’ He has a more recent ‘Live at KEXP’ from a few weeks ago, but I’d recommend this one first. It includes some interesting insight into wear his voice under the Orville Peck moniker comes from.


surprise, surprise. i loved ‘jojo rabbit.’

Well, would you look at that. Turns out that when I rarely write on my website, a trailer posted for a movie back in early September has just a single post separating it from my reaction to that same movie at the end of October. C’est la vie.

I absolutely loved this film. I really wanted to love it, and I did.

Once, a friend and I were talking about a movie I really wanted to love, then loved. He said it wasn’t surprising, because by wanting to love it so much, I was pretty much going to love it regardless of what it was like. The opposite of this is actually true for me. In reality, it happens all the time that I dislike something I was hoping to love. I just take the disappointment harder than normal — like, irrationally hard — when an artist I love creates something I genuinely dislike. Emily and I joked that I’m going to need significant time to recover when I don’t like something Taika does.

All that to say, I didn’t love Jojo Rabbit just because I really wanted to love Jojo Rabbit.

In some ways, it felt like peak Taika Waititi. So many of his sensibilities and strengths distilled down to their purest form, then amplified by the cultural context he’s responding to.

It has all the winsomeness and joy Taika is known for. It’s expectedly hilarious. It’s populated by a bunch of delightful weirdos. Yet, as should be expected in a story about Nazi Germany, it goes some much darker, more heartbreaking places than his previous work.

I love when art makes me want to be a better person. Fiction can inspire us to be more empathetic (that’s actually been researched and turns out to be true and not just wishful thinking by us reading nerds). It can carve out room for us to grow our capacity to be better people. It can give us a space to practice and imagine where we can participate with the good things and reject the bad. This movie did that for me.

I’ll avoid spoilers in this post, but here are my initial spoiler-free takeaways from Jojo Rabbit: Do what you can. Hold fast to love and hope, especially in the darkest times. Be brave and be kind. Fight hate and fear in all its forms. And always remember to dance.


the haunting of hill house.

As a kid, like most of my friends, I spent time fantasizing about being able to teleport, or turn invisible, or just generally be Wolverine. Yet, more often, I imagined being able to freeze time . [[Like on Out of This World, an 80s sitcom of which the only thing I remember is that the lead girl could freeze time.]]

Those thoughts of time freezing bliss still come to me as an adult — fairly regularly, as a matter of fact — and a huge part of that fantasy is the fact that I’d have unlimited time to learn about, watch/rewatch, and read/reread everything out there that interests me. I always want to watch and read all the things. Not some of the things, or most of the things, ALL THE THINGS!! Or at least, all the things that seem to be good things.

Sadly, the superpower to stop time still eludes me, so I’m always behind on a countless number of movies, shows, and books I want to get to watching/reading. For real, it’s literally a countless number (aka, my living nightmare).

All that to say, it always feels good when I finally get around to something that’s been on my radar. Thus, recently checking The Haunting of Hill House off my unending media list would have been satisfying for that reason alone. It’s been toward the top of said list since the show debuted on Netflix, and urgency intensified as multiple friends have raved about it and told me I need to get watch sooner rather than later.

Well, at long last I’ve seen it, and boy howdy is it good! (No, I don’t know why I use strange colloquialisms on this blog that I would never use in real life, but I’m not going to stop.)

For real though, I loved this show!

I had been a little hesitant once I learned it would only be very loosely based on the source material. I love the Shirley Jackson novel (which is a wildly underrated and under-read book, by a wildly underrated and under-read author — you probably know her as the author of “The Lottery,” the chilling short story many of us had to read in school), as well as the 1963 film adaptation, The Haunting (which is a wildly underrated and under-seen horror classic).

Using the source material as a jumping off point while taking off in a new direction could be an inspired creative choice. More often, it’s a disaster. Too many producers and writers ignore everything that makes the source material great, instead using said material to lazily grasp at a pre-existing intellectual property for the sole purpose of name recognition.

This show is definitely an example of the former. It feels like creator/writer/director Mike Flanagan really cherished the novel, and the way he made allusions and homages to the original felt genuine, and not like lip service. They made sense, and revealed an understanding of what was referenced.

Flanagan’s themes were very different from Jackson’s, but still thoughtful and resonant. I loved the story he told just as much as the original, if not more. I know, I know, suggesting I may like it more than the remarkable original novel is blasphemous, but I’m just being honest. Honestly blasphemous. (Maybe put that on my tombstone? Maybe a memoir title? Either way, it’s definitely an accurate description. Anyway, back to the show.)

The Haunting of Hill House is eerie, and the kind of scary that gets in your head. I’m not sure I was ever terrified watching the show, but the tone was tense and creepy, and the creepiness lingered. Let’s just say that after bingeing the show while Emily was out of town, I had more lights on than I normally would while getting ready for bed.

I think that lingering fear is due to how effectively Flanagan and company created the atmosphere of Hill House. The creepiness felt expansive and all-encompassing. It genuinely seemed like something ghastly may be around every corner, and I found myself constantly scanning the screen for some horror lurking in the background. Turns out, part of the reason for this unease was that at least 43 ghosts are hidden in scenes at Hill House throughout the show. 43!!! There were also some narratively earned jump scares that got me good.

More than that, as is the case in so many horror films I love, the genre was a vehicle for a meaningful story. The scares were fun, but the framework of a ghost story is used to tell a bigger story about the things that really haunt us, and how those things define and enslave us if we try to pretend they aren’t there.

So many of the show’s themes resonated deeply with me. Family, grief, love, mental illness, shame, and forgiveness just to name a few. As well as how to live well and still be open, vulnerable, brave and kind in a dangerous, often cruel world full of real life monsters.

There were more themes I really loved, but mentioning them would be venturing into spoiler territory. We can save that for irl conversations, or texts, or whatever. Similarly, I could also list some storytelling devices I really enjoyed, but again, it would potentially spoil stuff by getting your head going in a direction that might help you figure shit out earlier than you may want. Ask me all about it if you want to talk about it.

One thing I will say, which doesn’t spoil anything, is that episode six is an absolutely remarkable bit of visual storytelling. Hugely impressive technical filmmaking from everyone involved, including amazing work by the actors. However, most importantly, it was in service to the story, not at the expense of it. For real, friends, the episode is so fucking good. The degree of difficulty was so high and they crushed it. It’s even more impressive that they pulled it off while filming with five child actors who also crushed it.

Anyway, I guess that’s all I can write about this show without spoilers, so I’ll save the rest of my thoughts for outside the blog. Or for a future post where I throw caution to the wind and spoil the fuck out of everything (with warnings of course). We’ll see if I make it far enough to get back into that style of writing again.


jojo rabbit has a full trailer!

Even if you barely know me, there’s a good chance you know I’m in love with Taika Waititi. Speaking of which, if you haven’t seen the tv adaptation of What We Do in the Shadows, you should get on that.

Anyway, after the teaser a month or so ago, we finally have a full trailer for JOJO RABBIT. I can’t wait!!!

Also, this will definitely be the best performance ever by a Polynesian Jew playing Adolf Hitler.


i am hope, or, the long form explanation of my new tattoo.

With any tattoo comes a number of inevitable reactions from friends, acquaintances, and strangers. From thoughtful, sweet and appreciated comments/questions, to downright irritating, out of line nonsense (and everywhere in between).

The most common and understandable reaction is curiosity as to what the tattoo means. Why on earth did I choose to get this particular thing inked onto my body forever?

Well, my friends, I finally got my second tattoo, so here is the answer to that question. [Also, excuse the bit of blood in the photo. The tattoo is in the healing stage, so this pic from immediately after is the best I’ve got at the moment.]

Since most people want a response no longer than a sentence or two, the tl;dr version is this: It comes from Neil Gaiman’s Sandman comics, and it’s meant to remind me that hope is the most powerful thing there is.

Still here? Good. Here’s the longer version:

Sandman is Neil Gaiman’s masterpiece comic book epic, the bulk of which ran from 1989 to 1996. It’s dark, weird, and literate. It’s shaped by Gaiman’s ability to create tremendous depth in his storytelling and worldbuilding by placing his protagonists within a context of myth, history, and literary references and allusions. Norman Mailer even called Sandman “a comic strip for intellectuals.”

I love it, as I do most everything Neil Gaiman does.

It’s the saga of Morpheus, aka Dream, one of the seven endless along with Destiny, Death, Desire, Despair, Delirium, and Destruction. They don’t rule the world as gods, but each is the personification and source of the things that make life what it is.

The story opens as Dream is taken captive by occult practitioners. They were trying to capture Death for predictably nefarious purposes, but they accidentally got Morpheus instead. They take away his three objects of power — his pouch, his ruby, and his helm — and keep him prisoner for 70 years, hoping to leverage his freedom for power and favor.

He inevitably escapes and returns to the Dreaming, the epicenter of all dreams and stories. In his absence, it has collapsed, broken down by entropy and disrepair. In order to restore it and regain his full power, Dream must reclaim his lost three objects.

His helm has come into the possession of a demon, Choronzon. To get it back, Dream must journey to hell, where he is challenged by the demon to a contest. If Dream wins, the helm will be returned to him. If Choronzon wins, Dream will become a slave of hell forever.

The rules are that each takes turns projecting a form, and one must top the other until either of the contestants fails to imagine something more powerful than the last.

Choronzon takes the first move. He imagines a vicious dire wolf. Predictably for a demon, the power of predatory violence is his style of play. Initially, Dream plays in kind, imagining forms that can kill and destroy whatever Choronzon imagines. Yet, he soon realizes the futility in letting Choronzon frame the game and shifts tactics to a more positive, life-affirming strategy.

Rather than explaining it to you, here is what comes next. It’s one of my favorite moments in anything I’ve ever read, and is meaningful enough to me that I, you know, tattooed on my body.

Choronzon, High Duke of the Eighth Circle, Captain of the Horde of Beelzebub, can imagine nothing that is more powerful than hope.

As soon as I read this the first time, I wanted this tattoo. This moment is the epitome of why I love Neil Gaiman’s work more than any other writer. It’s the hallmark of my favorite sorts of stories.

Part of the alchemy of my depression is that I can never forget “the darkness at the end of everything.” Even in my best and happiest moments, that shadow is always in my field of vision. So, hope that pretends the darkness isn’t there has nothing to offer me. The very existence of that sort of false hope leaves me feeling empty and defeated. But here, the demon reminds us of that darkness, flaunts it in Dream’s face believing it to be his trump card, and hope still wins!

Dream’s victory plants the thought in my mind that hope isn’t the most powerful thing in spite of the darkness, or if we ignore the darkness. It is the most powerful thing because of the darkness, because nothing is more beautiful or remarkable than when we stand up, look into the darkness that waits at the end of the universe, and still choose hope and life. That is the most powerful thing.

Hope isn’t logical. It’s to believe foolishly, not just when it makes sense, (and I’m far too enamored with things making sense). We all know how our stories end, but to simply lay down and give in to how often death wins — even though it is the inevitable end of our stories — is the coward’s way out. I want hope instead.

Hope is choosing to see the world as beautiful, to see meaning in the details and minutia of our lives, and to believe that meaning somehow transcends us. Even though that meaning is probably just a dream. It’s choosing to believe there is beauty in the darkness and mystery around us instead of just angry things with teeth and claws, or worse, a vacuum.

The only way I want to live the one short life I get is by holding fast to hope. That’s not easy for me. Often I don’t believe, foolishly or otherwise — but I want to. Maybe all of life is ultimately meaningless. Hell, I think that’s by far the smarter bet. But if that’s the case, then I want to make the stupid bet. I want to act like it all matters, because who knows, maybe it does? Maybe there is more than what we know for sure. Even though darkness does wait at the end of the universe, maybe that’s not all there is. I want to live and make my choices in the mystery of that maybe, because it beats the fucking alternative.

And so now my body is marked for the rest of my life to remind me to choose hope, because that’s how I want to live. I want to look into the darkness at the end of everything with my eyes wide open and say, “I am hope.”


bad guy, cold war, navajo. [song(s) i’m obsessed with.]

That title sounds like a string of code words, right?

I assume I’m not the only one who goes stretches of days or weeks obsessed with the same song or album. I’m otherwise a pretty varied music listener, but every few weeks a song will capture my mind and I’ll return to it again and again and again.

Now that I’m on Roused a bit more often again, I thought it would be fun to share these songs as they arise.

At the moment, it’s not a song, but three songs I can’t stop listening to.


‘an american marriage’ by tayari jones.

There are times when books have the power to shake me. To jostle and stir things inside me in a way that continues long after I’ve closed the back cover.

Some books because they are poignant and lovely. Their beauty sharp, cutting my heart in a way that heals.

Some because they uncover truth at the heart of life and humanity. They remind me that I need to open my eyes.

Some offer insight into the brokenness of our culture, into the deep and systemic unfairness of life. They reveal to me how much more of myself I should be offering the world around me.

Some simply overwhelm me with the tenderness and grace the author shows for the fictional people she’s created, by proxy showing that tenderness to me, to all of us. They remind me that far too often, I love too little.

This is one of those rare books that does all of those things.

An American Marriage is devastating, powerful, heartbreaking, and beautiful. Jones illustrates the way hope and despair always live side by side, and she doesn’t reveal until the final pages which will get the last word in this story — which of course is only the last word for a time, the dialogue between the two will continue until the world ends.

This is a special book with a depth of human insight that doesn’t come along too often. Especially not paired with such remarkable writing, and believe me, the writing itself is a gift, powerful and delicate at the same time.

Each character Jones writes is vivid and real. Not a single one is a castoff or plot contrivance. They feel whole. Even now as I think back on the book I miss them, wish I could see more of their lives and offer to reveal some of my own. They made me angry and sad, they made me happy and proud. There were moments I felt like I couldn’t breathe, when I didn’t want to keep reading because I didn’t want to see their pain, and other moments I delighted in their joy. There were even times I wished I could enter the pages to offer them tenderness and understanding, but could only read on and hope they would offer those gifts to each other.

I’ve never read anything else by Tayari Jones before, but I can’t wait to find another story she’s offered up to a broken and beautiful world.

You should read this book.


paper girls. [comics for people who think they don’t like comics.]

Fact 1: Most people think they don’t like comics.
Fact 2: Those people are wrong. Okay, not all of them, but like, 97%.
Fact 3: I need to come up with a snappier name for this series of posts.

Superheroes are running shit in Hollywood these days. I mean, for real, Marvel Studios films are legit cultural touchstones now. They’re in the zeitgeist, baby!

Still, you’d be hard-pressed to get most people to actually pick up a comic book or graphic novel.

Depressing side note: As I wrote that last sentence, I realized it’s probably just as difficult to get someone to pick up any sort of book, but that’s too depressing for me to contemplate right now. We’ll pretend it’s just comics so that I can continue on with my original plan. Right? Right.

As such, I’m going to start writing about (as the overlong series title suggests) comics for people who think they don’t like comics. Then, we can all laugh about how foolish and misled you all were, basking in the glory of my service to humanity. Or, you know, we can drink cocktails and talk about great stories told in a beautiful medium.

First, before I get started, I’m skipping superhero comics (at least for now). Since these posts are — at least ostensibly — aimed at non-comics readers, my sense is that superheroes may be a bridge too far. However, let the record show that there are some brilliant, deep, intellectually stimulating, and emotionally poignant stories in the superhero genre.

Secondively, two titles that would absolutely have ended up in these posts if I hadn’t already written about them before are Saga and Descender.

Also, did I mention Saga?

Saga, Saga, Saga, Saga, Saga!

But for real, go read what I wrote about Saga.

Did you read that post, run out to buy Saga, read the first volume or two and then come back? Good, welcome back! I should have asked you to grab me coffee while you were out. Whatevs, let’s get started.

With this, the inaugural post of a series that will undoubtedly go on and on into the mid single digits, my first recommendation is:

Paper Girls – by Brian K. Vaughn and Cliff Chiang

Hey, look! Brian K. Vaughn is back in the post!

As you’ll know since you just read a volume or two of Saga, the guy has a pretty incredible imagination. The stuff he dreams up is often beautiful, horrific, downright bonkers, and/or awe-inspiring; in many cases all at the same time.

More importantly, he creates deep, rich, enjoyable characters. In his previous work (two of my favs being Runaways and, you guessed it, Saga) it’s impossible not to fall in love with the people who populate his stories. Fair warning: he’s not afraid to kill his/our darlings, so prepare to have your heart broken once or twice if you start reading all of his stuff.

As for Paper Girls, it’s about four… well, paper girls. Three veterans and one newly minted member of the ranks are going about their business in Cleveland on the morning after Halloween, 1988. They’re out there delivering the morning’s news, being 80s teens, figuring out life, etc. Then, as teens are wont to do, our titular paper girls find themselves thrust into the middle of a war between factions of time-travelers from the future.

Shit gets cray. Drama ensues. Wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey adventure is had by all; complete with overlapping timelines, future versions of themselves, and plenty of WTF?! moments at the end of issues to keep you reading.

The book is also gorgeous. Thanks, Cliff Chiang!

Whether you think you like comics or not, you should give Paper Girls the old college try. And Saga! Please read Saga. If those aren’t your cup of tea, I’ll be back soon with another offering.

One more thing! As it seems is the case with just about everything I love these days, Paper Girls is about to get the adaptation treatment. In this case, as a series for Amazon. Please don’t suck!!!