A MAGAZINE ABOUT STYLISH CINEMA
A look at our relationship with cinema and the inspiration we draw from it. Music Supervisor, Producer, Musician and DJ, Alix Brown, shares her film picks.
FILM PICKS WITH
ALIX BROWN
Lost Highway (1997) Directed by David Lynch
David Lynch’s Lost Highway was my “coming of age” movie. Its lurid, underground vision of Los Angeles, paired with its unforgettable soundtrack with Bowie, Trent Reznor, Nine Inch Nails, Angelo Badalamenti… feels like a 90s time capsule. Watching it cracked something open in me. It was the first film that made me want to pack up and move to LA, to chase that darkness and glamour that Lynch captured so perfectly.
Days of Heaven (1978) Directed by Terrence Malick
Terrence Malick’s Days of Heaven is pure cinematic poetry. Néstor Almendros’ cinematography (shot largely during golden hour) turns every frame into a painting. Ennio Morricone’s score is transcendent, and Sam Shepard’s presence is beyond sexy. It taught me that cinema could be both visual art and raw desire at once. The fact that this Texas-set story was filmed in Alberta only adds to its dreamlike, otherworldly quality. It’s a film I return to when I want to feel transported into something mythic.
Natural Born Killers (1994) Directed by Oliver Stone
Oliver Stone’s Natural Born Killers was a cultural shockwave when I first saw it. Messy and wild, it confronts society’s obsession with violence, celebrity, and the way killers can be idolized as pop icons. Beneath all the chaos is a twisted love story that forces you to look at what we’re drawn to and why. For me, it was one of the first films that showed how cinema could hold up a cracked mirror to culture, forcing us to see the uncomfortable truth about our own fascinations. Hits hard still today.
Toby Dammit (1968) Directed by Federico Fellini
Fellini’s Toby Dammit, from Spirits of the Dead, has haunted me ever since I stumbled across it 20 years ago. With Nino Rota’s feverish score and Fellini’s macabre imagery, it’s perfection. Terence Stamp is hypnotic and brooding, already half in this world and half in another. Losing Stamp recently made the film resonate even more for me; it feels like an elegy, a reminder of the fragility of genius. This film shaped my love for Fellini, and it still gives me chills every time I watch it.
Blade Runner (1982) Directed by Ridley Scott
Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner is the ultimate marriage of sound and vision. Vangelis’ score is flawless… futuristic, and romantic all at once. For me, it’s a film about what it means to be human: fragile, fleeting, but still yearning for connection. Every time I revisit it, I’m reminded that great cinema doesn’t age, it evolves with you. It’s still one of the most influential films in shaping how I think about atmosphere and emotion, both in film and in music.