about me

My name’s Matt Marker, and this is my humble film review site! I started this site as a way to scratch my creative itch and share my thoughts and musings on various films I’ve seen, some new, some old (ish).

My career trajectory has taken me through the worlds of medicine and clinical research. After graduating Rhodes College in 2009, I attended medical school at UTHSC College of Medicine and graduated from there in 2013. I embarked on a career as a psychiatrist and began a psychiatry residency at the Institute of Living in Hartford, CT. A few years and a quick career adjustment later, I returned to Memphis and began working in clinical research at St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital. I’m proud to still be supporting their mission some 6-odd years later.

In my spare time, I’ve worked to nurture my inner cinephile. I minored in Film Studies in undergrad, and did some ‘light’ screenwriting—a short script of mine was considered in the 2010 Cellardoor Cinema Screenplay Contest. Throughout college, medical school, residency, and my professional career, I’ve devoured countless films, which is in no small part due to Black Lodge Video. Matt Martin and the late Bryan Hogue were indispensable, introducing me to everything from Robert Altman to Mike Leigh, from Federico Fellini to Takashi Miike. Some of my fondest memories are from spending what felt like hours in the racks there, trying to decide what to watch. (Side plug—they’ve reopened in an awesome new location near Crosstown Concourse. Go check them out!) Since returning to Memphis, I’ve also become involved with Indie Memphis Film Festival and have served on their Shorts Screening Committee. They’re a wonderful organization as well, and have been invaluable in bringing independent cinema to Memphis and giving voice to an underserved community. Their annual festival is awesome and is always blocked off on my calendar. More recently, I spent a month in Columbia, MO, so that my miniature schnauzer Peg (featured above!) could receive radiation therapy for a nasal adenocarcinoma. There I spent many evenings at Ragtag Cinema, a film-lover’s dream, at which each screening is preceded by a short spiel from the projectionist. They recently did two excellent series, Black Independents Vol. II and Science on Screen: The Films of Philip K. Dick.

All that is to say, I love film and I’m excited to be able to share my ramblings and inner thoughts about movies. No matter what the quality is—excellent, terrible, and everything in between—there’s always something to take away, something to glean. Film is by far my favorite art form. Yes, the inherent nature of the medium gives it a certain technological advantage over other forms of expression. Moving images. Sound. Editing. But those extra elements also give it a sense of immediacy, of rawness, particularly in the right hands. A great film, to me, is one that has something to say, that teaches without being didactic, that makes you feel something. As much as I love photography and literature, few of those works have utterly wrecked me the way that, say, The Vanishing or The Bicycle Thief have.

I’m also deaf, which often dictates my viewing experience. It’s rare that I attend a movie in theaters without availing myself of the CaptiView captioning system (or whatever the equivalent is—closed caption glasses, open captions). Without captioning, it can be a struggle to understand the dialogue, particularly if the actors don’t enunciate well, or the camera doesn’t show their mouths when they speak, or if it’s drowned out by the score (looking at you, Christopher Nolan). I try to see films in theaters as often as possible, but I’d be lying if I said that streaming didn’t carry huge advantages—captions captions captions! When writing reviews, I try to draw on my experience when possible, particularly if the film itself address deafness in some way, such as A Quiet Place or Sound of Metal (when I want someone to understand my experience of the world, I’m likely to tell them to see the latter film. Not just because the former is about, y’know, aliens.)

In my reviews, I try to suss out the entertainment value and the artistic merit of each film. What makes the film good? It’s an intangible trait, and it can be tricky to define. But to paraphrase Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart in his take on pornography, “I know it when I see it.” (It being a good film.)

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. I love film, and I hope you love it as much as I do. Enjoy the ramblings of my inner cinephile mind, and thanks for taking this journey with me.