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Dailies is a round-up of essential film writing, news bits, and other highlights from across the Internet. If you’d like to submit a piece for consideration, get in touch with us in the comments below or on Twitter at @TheFilmStage.

Explore a $300,000 movie collection amounting to 15,000 titles:

Watch Terence Davies recite a poem by Emily Dickinson for a Kickstarter project.

John Waters discusses the “rubbish cinema” that changed his life at Vice:

Let’s start with Trog. Trog is a movie you watch with your mouth hanging open. Trog is a howler. But it wasn’t made it to be funny. It’s Joan Crawford’s last film and it’s totally heartbreaking to see her doing serious acting with a man in a monkey suit pretending to be a troglodyte. It’s so sad because she just wanted to work. And you hear all these rumours, like she had to change her clothes in the car on set (which has been angrily denied by the director who says he spent a fortune on her). The thing is, this is a studio movie. It wasn’t even cheap! And yet she had dialogue like, “Trog! Here Trog!” So you kind of feel sorry for her and then you don’t because she was Joan Crawford.

Watch a teaser for the Tilda Swinton-narrated Dreams Rewired, opening on December 15th in New York City:

At The Talkhouse, director Zach Clark on Tom at the Farm:

I first saw Tom at the Farm last year at Reeling, the Chicago Lesbian and Gay Film Festival. I was in the Windy City editing Kris Swanberg’s Unexpected, and because I didn’t have to wake up at 6 AM and work 12-hour days like the rest of the crew, I actually made it out to the movie theater a few times. In retrospect, the three features I saw on the big screen during my trip – Tom, Adam Wingard’s The Guest, and David Fincher’s Gone Girl – formed an informal little triptych of lean, nasty genre exercises. They were also the best genre movies I saw last year, and maybe the best, period, since Franck Khalfoun’s 2012 Maniac remake. The Guest was a total blast, paying homage to everything without ever feeling like a direct rip-off of anything, with some of the cleanest, smartest set-piece choreography in recent memory. As with Fincher’s other recent work, Gone Girl felt like the creation of an evil, unfeeling robot – so deeply cynical that misanthropy itself became the main character. But, you know, to an effect this time, I think…. Dolan’s was the best of the bunch, and also the best movie in the under-thirty wunderkind’s ever-expanding oeuvre.

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