miss americana

"Miss Americana" is 85 minutes of translucence with Taylor Swift. There's more in it — and more to it — than you usually get with these pop superstar portraits. I, at least, don't recall loneliness being such a predominant condition for Swift's peers as it is, here, for her. Not long after the movie doles out a deluxe rise-to-the-top montage, we hear Swift ask no one in particular, "Shouldn't I have someone to call right now?" This from a woman who's famous — notorious, actually — for her squad of besties. Otherwise, it's lonely up there. Even the man she says she's seeing is a figment in this movie, cropped from images, a hand-holding blur, a ghost.

On Grammy nomination day in the winter of 2018, a camera watches from a low angle as Swift sits in sweats alone on a sofa and hears from her publicist that her perturbed sixth album, "Reputation," has been omitted from three of the big categories. She's stoic. She's almost palpably hurt. But Swift's songwriting treats hurt as an elastic instrument, and she resolves in that moment of snubbing, "I just need to make a better record." And the movie watches as she writes and records "Lover," another album  rejected by the string-pullers at the Grammys.

michael palin- north korea

The physical difference between China and North Korea as Palin crossed the Yalu river was obvious. Seventy years of isolation have left the latter bleak and barren, while its neighbour's gleaming buildings scrape the sky and stand as shining monuments to social and economic progress. North Korea has low-rise concrete blocks and no cars and the only shining monuments are the two huge statues of the country's first two supreme leaders, Kim Il-Sung and Kim Jong-il, at Mansu Hill. They smile benevolently over Pyongyang. Palin, though unsettled by the lack of internet, absence of phone signal and the fact that the border officials have possession of all his and his companions' passports, marvelled at the extravagant underground train stations and the extraordinarily robotic, choreographed movements of the traffic police – all young women "rumoured to be handpicked by Kim Jong-un himself" – and got a head massage at a state-run health complex .

blackpink: light up the sky

Blackpink: Light Up the Sky (Korean: 세상을 밝혀라; RR: Sesang-eul Balkyeora, stylized as BLACKPINK: Light Up the Sky) is a 2020 documentary film directed by Caroline Suh, that tells the story of South Korean girl group Blackpink as bandmates and as individuals, and details their rise to fame. The documentary film was released just under two weeks after the release of Blackpink's first studio album The Album, and has been described as "an endearing documentary that emphasizes each member's individuality".Blackpink: Light Up the Sky was released worldwide on Netflix on October 14, 2020. It is Blackpink's first documentary The all-access documentary covers the four years since Blackpink's debut in 2016 with video footages from their training days, a look into their day-to-day life, behind-the-scenes stories, and interviews with the members. It follows the trials and tribulations of being a K-pop star, the recording process of the group's debut album The Album and member Rosé's then-upcoming solo debut, and culminates with their 2019 Coachella performance.

the night stalker

The detectives come to the conclusion that there is a serial killer in Los Angeles and paranoia begins to sweep across the LA area. They endure many sleepless nights trying to piece together who is perpetrating the killings. The two detectives also find dental evidence which they believe belongs to the Night Stalker. Richard Ramirez, the notorious "Night Stalker," is captured and nearly killed by a mob in East Los Angeles, California, after being recognized from a photograph shown both on television and in newspapers. Recently identified as the serial killer, Ramirez was pulled from the enraged mob by police officers.  One night, Ramirez dropped little Anastasia at a gas station and told her to call 911. Hronas still does not know why he let her go and did not kill her. Even after four episodes we never really got to the heart of what made Ramirez tick. But The Night Stalker did give us a clearer idea of why we want to watch true-crime documentaries. We, like Ramirez, are voyeurists. And then, having pleasurably terrified ourselves at the view, we console ourselves with the thought that justice ultimately prevailed and the culprit died in jail. Ramirez was 53 when he died of cancer in 2013 after spending 23 years on death row.