Perhaps we shouldn't say Guillermo del Toro makes "horror" films, but rather "terror" films. Don't get me wrong - there are plenty of things to be scared of in The Devil's Backbone, but "The One Who Sighs" isn't one of them. After all, what's so scary about ghosts when there's so many horrible things of which the living are capable? 

Perhaps we shouldn't say Guillermo del Toro makes "horror" films, but rather "terror" films. Don't get me wrong - there are plenty of things to be scared of in The Devil's Backbone, but "The One Who Sighs" isn't one of them. After all, what's so scary about ghosts when there's so many horrible things of which the living are capable? 

In the first NEW I Do Movies Badly episode in over a year, Jim talks with Sean "Undercooked Ryan Gosling" Meehan to discuss the films of Guillermo del Toro. The boys discuss the relationship between DPs and directors, del Toro's childlike wonder and empathy for the Other, before disagreeing about if del Toro should finally adapt "At the Mountains of Madness" (he shouldn't) and, ultimately, getting to the recommendatons: The Devil's Backbone (2001), Crimson Peak (2015), and Cronos (1993). 

After walking away from I Do Movies Badly one year ago, Jim Rohner returns to the podcast that he had intended to leave forever to lay the reasons behind the return and to hint at things to come! 

On this, the final episode of I Do Movies Badly, Jim bids a very fond farewell to the guests, listeners, and fans who supported the podcast throughout its tenure.

In which Jim apologizes for many things including: episode delays, continuously apologizing for episode delays, and the next episode delay as he announces - for many reasons - a hiatus for the rest of the month of July.

With Mystery Train, Jim says goodbye to June and Jim Jarmusch, which is fitting for a filmmaker whose elegiac work seems to deal with traveling, transitions, and hanging onto a pride from times and places that once were.

All the quirks and indie filmmaking tropes that made Paterson work seem not to make Dead Man work.

Why is it when nothing supposedly happens (during the mundane, the routine, the regular), we assume that art can't be found? Paterson - both the film and the man in the film - are able to find the poetry in the mundane and value it just for being.

You know what's cool? Rock and roll music. Sloths. Jim Jarmusch. Kristen Sales espouses the coolness of all of these things, but it is primarily with Jim Jarmusch, the New York City-based musician/filmmaker with whom she is concerned during her second appearance on IDMB. She discusses how he's a dying breed of indie filmmaker, whether he's really as cool as he looks or really just a nerd (or both), and what is so quintessentially American about his work before recommending these three titles: Paterson (2016), Dead Man (1995), and Mystery Train (1989).