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Perhaps the most amazing and groundbreaking quality about The Birdcage is how removed it is from both illness and insensitivity. Whereas films preceding it were often somber stories about the tribulations of being gay in a conservatively straight world, Nichols and screenwriter Elaine May expose the fallacies of conservatism as traditional values are thrown into a more open-minded space. They don’t care how far the community has fallen so much as how high they can rebuild themselves.

This is ambitious horror filmmaking, and in a lot of ways, I fully admire its ambitions. For me, the film’s sloppiness defines its overall quality.

While it is more than established that Halston’s life is far from a fairytale, the narrative suffers as a result of the decision to revolve more around sex and drugs than his artistry, it likely does a disservice to his cultural impact by pulling focus from his achievements.

The film basically says she was a lost cause from the start. We don't get a sense of who Marilyn was.

The director's latest is a dreamlike exploration of a consciousness torn between two homelands, and the implications of history and memory suspended in limbo.

Haven't you heard? There's a new horror subgenre: cerebral gore, that's probably been around for decades and we're now just starting to talk about it.