In the midst of a spat, film critic Terry Thorpe accidentally kills his lover. Though Thorpe covers his tracks, he raises the suspicions of a private investigator, who then tries to blackmail him. Thorpe also falls under the watchful eye of Detective Fred Stapelli, a cop who is intent on becoming a screenwriter. Before long, Thorpe's girlfriend, Kit, and Stapelli's wife, Patricia, are roped into the case.
Steven Schachter
Director
William H. Macy
Terry Thorpe
Adam Arkin
Detective Fred Stapelli
Felicity Huffman
Kit Wannamaker
James Cromwell
John Edgarson
Julia Campbell
Patricia Stapelli
James Pickens Jr.
Detective Larry Gray
Paul Mazursky
John Brant
Vincent Pastore
Cabby
Michael McMurtry
Scott
Stephanie Belding
Laura Penny
Vik Sahay
Bob
At 2:17 a.m., every child in a third-grade class wakes up, leaves their home, and disappears into the darkness—except one. The next day, teacher Justine Gandy discovers that Alex Lily is the only student left, while the rest have vanished without a trace. Did Justine have something to do with it, or is a far more sinister force stalking the town, targeting not just children, but anyone in its path?
Like all modern societal phenomenons, it started with a meme. This one highlighted that when there’s a mom in a Pixar film, she is almost without fail given striking curves that highlight the bottom half of her body following a minuscule waist. From Elastigirl to the skeletal Mama Imelda, the animation giant’s artists seem to have a fixation on making exaggeratedly curvy maternal characters.
Films can alleviate alienation by presenting realities where the viewers feelings are shared by onscreen characters. The film 'Shrek' can be interpreted as a transgender story.
Even without the messaging, Mercy does not hold up as a movie. It's sloppily done and the mystery doesn’t tie together at the end.
Not every silence is empty. Some are filled with things too heavy for words.
Treated like a granter of wishes for those earning out of retelling the same tragedy, Marilyn looks like she's caged in different stages of trauma for us to stare at, instead of someone we’ve finally allowed to rest in peace.