Now playing: “Didn’t Come To Argue” by James Blake ft. Monica Martin

Welcome back, it’s 10 days from Tax Day in the U.S., and here in NYC we’re going through that spring shuffle where you never know how the weather will be by the end of the day. If you’re wondering how life outside of the multiplex is going, check out my Apple AirPods Max 2 review.

It’s been a while since I’ve sorted through my movie log for y’all, and that’s inspired me to return to an old format that will likely make one monthly edition of No First Drafts easier to plan out. So, welcome to the monthly review for what I devoured during March 2026. I wrote 2025 originally, if you’re wondering how well my ol’ noggin is working. 

Anyhow, I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how we watch movies. Not just the streaming vs physical media conversation that’s taking place as Netflix raises prices again, but also the whole format conversation that’s been taking place thanks to the likes of Ryan Coogler. The multiplex’s current savior is the all-too familiar IMAX format, which is so profitable it’s begun to shape the movie release schedule. On a secondary and hyper-local level, though, my local movie theaters have seemingly doubled-down on projecting actual reels of film when they can, seemingly because this is also a way to draw in audiences.

I personally wish all movies were screened on print, as I prefer the aesthetic, which can add a great funkiness that augments an already weird movie (as was the case with Paul Thomas Anderson's "Inherent Vice" on 35mm at Metrograph. It could also wind up restoring some importance to projectionists and power to the laborers out there. Instead of just hiring people to queue up a playlist, theaters would employ talented people who know how to work the reels. I'd hope theaters couldn't get away with cheaping out on that labor.

The biggest example of “you don’t need film” was a film I might have been postponing out of practicality. I saw a digital presentation of Spike Lee’s 202-minute “Malcolm X” at the start of March, and it is one of the most impressively-edited long movies I’ve ever seen, because it doesn’t feel that long at all. But, of course, many people don’t think they have the time for a 3-hour, 22-minute film, and will just see it as something they’ll consume some day in the future. While I bet Denzel's performance could feel more alive if I saw it on film, that would almost be steroidal, as he's just better than I've ever seen him (which is saying something) here. This goes for young Malcolm, but once you get to the arson scene and Washington in the "double dolly" shot, the one that has him looking like he's floating in mid air, you're just wondering how this movie and performance isn't talked about more.

A case of film helping a classic feel even greater comes through Alan J. Pakula's "Klute," which came up a lot during the conversations surrounding the passing of star Donald Sutherland in 2024. Thing is, though, this is less his movie than it is that of Jane Fonda, who won an Oscar for her performance of Bree Daniels, a sex worker at the center of a missing person's case. I saw "Klute" on 35mm and loved the worn aesthetic that the movie gained from its aging film, as the 1971 film looked its age thanks to a warm grain, blemishes, scratches and more. All of that benefits this noir thriller, especially the scenes where Daniels and Sutherland's titular character were in peril or concerned with danger at hand. But I don't believe for a moment that Jane Fonda's performance would be any less disarming if I saw the movie on digital. 

Satyajit Ray's black-and-white film "Days and Nights in the Forest," on the other hand feels almost timeless, even though it's from 1970. This is because it's a very down-the-middle ensemble comedy, with four dudes on vacation, getting in trouble and trying to have sex. Sure, there's some stuff that doesn't really fit into 2026, such as the gang commandeering the rest house for lodging, and how short-king Shekhar keeps selectively speaking English instead of Bengali, but the rest of it is all group dynamics, party games and foolish drunken behavior. All of which made Film Forum's digital 4K restoration presentation the least necessary part of making this story fit in with modern movie theater norms. You get a stoic dude, a confused dude, a funny little dude and that other guy who's more sports than human, and they have good chemistry, and all probably remind you of people in your own life. In that way, it's the earliest version of "The Hangover" I've ever seen. 

Speaking of timeless, Hayao Miyazaki's "Kiki’s Delivery Service" is like most of the living animation legend's works in that it exists outside of all the screens and modern trappings. Here, the story relies on flight and fact that a boy named Tombo just picked the wrong girl to talk to. It's all about the titular Kiki, though, as our hero is headstrong into the latest chapter of her young life, leaving home and working with a bakery like everybody dreams of. Wait, I'm being informed that this might just be a "me" thing. Anyway, I got to see this excellent bit of coming-of-age storytelling at the Lincoln Square IMAX screen, which really worked well for the scenes were action played out in the skies. 

Ivan Passer's 1981 film "Cutter’s Way" is one of those deep cuts that makes me happy about physical media (more on that another time). Radiance Films out of the UK has given this California noir an impressive treatment, starting with a 4K restoration from the camera negative that includes Dolby Vision HDR. That helped make it all the more pristine, exactly the opposite aesthetic one should expect from a 35mm screening. But that's really aside from the point, as I was wowed by this film as I realized it feels like the sinister version of Joel and Ethan Coens' "The Big Lebowski," and the similarities are too many for it to not be a coincidence. Both west coast mysteries star Jeff Bridges as an aimless dude who is the friend of a shattered Vietnam war veteran, and the pair get wrapped up in a rich guy's deadly nonsense. Here, the friend is John Heard, who is so very far removed from John Goodman's Walter, putting in an all-time anguished and demented performance. Go out of your way to watch "Cutter's Way," and don't care how you see it, only that you see it. 

Michael Haneke's "The Piano Teacher" felt like a Trojan horse of a film when I saw it on 35mm at Queens' The Museum of the Moving Image. Admittedly, I made a questionable decision in seeing this film blind, only really benefitting from a warning from my friend Madeleine who I ran into at the screening. Unlike Stellan Skarsgård in "Sentimental Value," she warned me that the end of the movie was a bit rough. Here, the 2001 film about a woman and her secrets wasn't exactly altered by the filmic print, though the grain of the film and its weathered marks did make the slower, more methodical scenes, where we're looking for small details and every little change in Isabelle Huppert's expressions feel a tad more alive. This is where I felt reminded about how film's imperfections do a great service in reminding you that this was something that was created by people. The white-hole "cigarette burns" in the corner remind us that the movie is being presented on multiple reels of film. A truly impressive performance, however, which Huppert gives here, prevents you from getting lost in those details, and transfixes your attention on her character. This is an extremely difficult-to-watch film at times in its latter half, and I would seriously recommend being more informed about it than I was going in. 

I'm sure that The Paris theater's screening of a 35mm print of Jonathan Glazer's "Birth" wasn't my first opportunity to see that film in theaters, but I'll admit that the allure of seeing it in the format is what got me to pull the trigger here. I was thoroughly impressed by this unsettling film where Nicole Kidman plays a widow who runs afoul of a child who claims to be her late husband, as it's one of those performances of hers that made me wonder "who else could have pulled this off?" That said? I can't recall how much the film stock added, which might just be a matter of it being a well-maintained print from less than 30 years ago. 

Again, though, I also found amazing movie theater experiences without a hint of celluloid, as happened at The Japan Society where I saw "Lady Snowblood" and "Yakuza Graveyard" screened on digital, with the latter being the Radiance Films transfer which may have been a Blu-ray projected in the auditorium. Why did I have such an amazing time? Because "Snowblood" is both amazing and a movie Quentin Tarantino really pulled a lot from for "Kill Bill Vol. 1," and seeing those similarities felt amazing after having only hearing about his referential nature for years. "Yakuza Graveyard" astounded simply because of how much it piled on top of itself, and how silly and over-the-top the dialogue got. In a month where I saw plenty of loud crime movies, though, I thoroughly enjoyed these films because I got to see them in a packed house with fans who care, thanks to The Japan Society putting on a retrospective of the works of star Meiko Kaji, who came to New York for this series. So, just like with IMAX and 35mm, there are many ways to get people to the theater, and I hope the various companies continue to employ them. 

The last movie I need to talk about is David Fincher's "Zodiac," which I saw (just like "Klute") on 35mm at Metrograph, a two-screen theater in Dimes Square (the hipster corner of Chinatown). While violence perpetrated by The Zodiac Killer makes this film to watch, it's just as much about its lead trio of "dudes at work" as Mark Ruffalo's frustrated detective, Robert Downey Jr.'s self-assured reporter, and Jake Gyllenhaal's obsessive cartoonist all make this movie about workaholic behavior. The film print added a bit to it, but it's not the thing I'm still haunted by. Gyllenhaal's performance in one of the movie's later scenes (inside of an interviewee's house) is one of the most memorable things I've seen in a movie. 

So, in other words watching movies on film is nice, but it’s the movies that matter. For example, I’m seeing Burn After Reading soon, but I’ve chosen to see a digital presentation, because the only 35mm screening is happening during one of my friends’ gigs. Don’t get hung up on format. See movies in

Thank you for reading this far.

Next time, well, if it all works out, you won’t be reading. You’ll be watching.