feminist

“I want to lick your stink … I want to taste your foulness … I want to shower in your rot … I want to feast in your fetid funk.”

Have more romantic sweet nothings ever graced the screen? Scripted by Grace Glowicki and Ben Petrie (partners in life and in filmmaking), these words of seduction are music to the ears of a lonely Gravedigger (Glowicki), who has been formulating a perfume to cover up her corpse-like stench. What she discovers is that the right one will love her exactly the way she smells, learning that she’s not so pheromonally challenged after all.

Glowicki’s sophomore feature “Dead Lover,” sometimes presented in “Stink-O-Vision,” is one of those entirely singular freakouts that we can thank Telefilm Canada for subsidizing (see also: the Cronenberg family oeuvre, Matt Johnson’s current “Nirvanna the Band the Show the Movie” and many more).

She co-writes, directs and stars in this highly stylized, wonderfully DIY handmade project, beautifully designed with gruesomely gothic sets by production designer Becca Morrin and art director Ashley Devereux. The blend of intentional artifice paired with deep emotion calls to mind other Canadian auteurs like Guy Maddin and Matthew Rankin (“The Twentieth Century”), but Glowicki’s film also exists within another lineage: the feminist Frankenstein film.

The film opens with a quote from Mary Shelley: “There is something at work in my soul which I do not understand.” Her 1818 novel “Frankenstein: or, the Modern Prometheus” has always been a feminist text (despite Guillermo del Toro’s more bro-ey adaptation), grappling with the terrifying power of creating life — and how close that is to death. Feminist filmmakers have drawn out these inherent themes from the book, the most recent and loudest example being Maggie Gyllenhaal’s “The Bride!” But “Dead Lover” hews closer to Laura Moss’ modern medical take, “birth/rebirth,” and even more closely to Zelda Williams’ cute, poppy “Lisa Frankenstein,” in which a young seamstress stitches up a reanimated boyfriend.

Our Gravedigger speaks to us, and to the moon, about her heart’s desire in charming cockney rhyming slang. Her hopes are rather simple and conventional: one true lifelong love and a family. After much rejection, she finally finds her Lover (Petrie) in the cemetery, saving him from a ferocious beast while he mourns his late opera-singer sister (Leah Doz). After the pair consummate their fragrant lust, the Gravedigger is ready to settle down right away.

In order to make her dreams come true, Lover travels to Europe for fertility treatments, where he drowns on a ship, the only thing left of him a finger, delivered to her by fishermen. Our enterprising Gravedigger, a true woman of science, engineers a lizard elixir and regenerates the finger into a long tentacle that eventually demands a body. What better choice than his own sister? But when her wild new Creature (Doz) comes to life, all hell breaks loose, summoning the sister’s jealous, grief-stricken Widower (Lowen Morrow) into an unfortunate love triangle (or square?).

Glowicki is a terrific filmmaker, marshaling her tiny troupe to execute this unique project. Petrie, Doz and Morrow play multiple roles, including a gossipy Greek chorus and the band of merry fisherman (truly an astonishing array of Canadian accent work on display). Her commitment to her singular vision never wavers, but as an actor, Glowicki is truly astonishing. Caked in Halloween makeup and lit with an array of colored gels, Glowicki summons something primal, pure and deeply moving about the lengths one will go to for love, a screech from the depths of her gut.

With a dream-pop soundtrack by U.S. Girls that would be at home in an episode of “Twin Peaks,” “Dead Lover,” in all its stinky, sexy, queer and grotesque glory, is one of the grossest and loveliest films about love I’ve ever seen. This one’s for the horny, hopeless goth inside all of us.

For decades, Iranian novelist and memoirist Shahrnush Parsipur wrote under the threat of her country’s oppressive laws. Parsipur was imprisoned for her work four separate times: once under the shah, who ruled Iran before the Islamic Revolution of 1979, and three times under the regime that took power that year.

Despite this Damoclean sword hanging over her, she managed in 1989 to publish “Touba and the Meaning of Night,” a sweeping historical novel that lays bare Iran’s crushing patriarchal culture. In 1990, she wrote “Women Without Men,” a book of connected stories that trace the lives of five women, including a sex worker and schoolteacher, in search of liberation and self-actualization.

Shortly after the book’s publication, the Iranian government threw Parsipur in prison for a fourth time, where she remained for over four years.

Flash forward 36 years, and an English translation of “Women Without Men” has published in the U.K. for the first time. (The first U.S. English translation was published by Feminist Press in 2011.)

Now, the U.K. book has been nominated for this year’s International Booker Prize. In an email exchange, Parsipur, who presently lives in exile in Northern California, expounded on her career, Iran and the recent developments there.

✍️ Author Chat

(The L.A. Times may earn a commission from bookshop.org links.)

Women Without Men was longlisted for the 2026 International Booker Prize

(The Feminist Press)

What is your feeling about the U.S. air attack against Iran?

I am very sorry for my country. People suffer and the country becomes ruined. I will never forgive Israel and the U.S. I am an American also and as an American I want to stop the war. I do not think that Americans and Israelis can bring liberty to Iran. The people of Iran must try for themselves.

The government threw you in prison shortly after you published “Women Without Men.”

I was never a political activist and they did not torture me. But one time they put me in a grave for two months in Ghezel Hesar Prison. There, we always had to sit without speaking and our eyes were closed by a cover and we listened to Islamic slogans.

So it was solitary confinement?

We were sitting in a space the size of a grave and there was a wooden wall between every grave, so you could not see anything except your grave.

Did you write in prison?

Yes, I began to write my novel “Touba and the Meaning of Night.” I wrote half of it and suddenly they took it and after one year the men of Ayatollah Montazeri came to prison and they gave me the novel. They had destroyed two pages that were about the killing of a girl. I thought the virginity of my book was ruined. So I burned it. I wrote my memoirs when I came to the U.S.

So you burned the book and then rewrote it?

When my prison term finished I wrote “Touba” again.

Do you still have family in Iran?

Yes, I have some family in Iran and I cannot contact them. The internet does not work and mobiles are silent.

Do you think change in Iran will come soon? Will the U.S. help to liberalize the country?

The Islamic laws must change and a country like Israel cannot do that. So, the Iranian must change the situation. All my books are banned in Iran, except ones that they change themselves. But “Women Without Men” is published in more than 30 countries. The Booker International Prize is an English prize and if they give it to me there is no relation with banning the book in Iran. I am not surprised about the situation.

(This Q&A was edited for length and clarity.)

📰 The Week(s) in Books

“‘Second Skin’ is more sociological than sexy; more anthropological than animalistic,” writes Meredith Maran.

(Los Angeles Times illustration; book jacket from Catapult)

Julia M. Klein is fascinated by Loubna Mrie’s memoir “Defiance,” which, she writes, “offers a prism on Syria’s authoritarian society before the 2011 uprising and subsequent civil war, and vivid snapshots of the devastation that the war unleashed.”

Mark Athitakis considers two books that tackle the old “New Hollywood” of the late ’60s and early ’70s: Paul Fischer’s “The Last Kings of Hollywood,” which spotlights the Coppola, Lucas and Spielberg pantheon, and Kirk Ellis’ “They Kill People,” about the making of “Bonnie and Clyde.” Athitakis calls Ellis’ history “a meaty yet accessible book that captures the lightning-in-a-bottle nature of the generation’s ur-text,” while Fischer’s book “has a gift for highlighting the ways that moments that we now accept as inevitable were often the product of dumb luck.”

Diane Garrett has a chat with Elizabeth Arnott about her novel “The Secret Lives of Murderers’ Wives,” which she calls “an empathetic and at times bracing mystery tale about unlikely crime solvers circa 1966.”

Finally, Costa Beavin Pappas considers Brian Raftery’s curiously titled “Hannibal Lecter: A Life,” which is really a biography of Lecter’s creator, author Thomas Harris. “For fans of true crime, Raftery has written a fascinating biography and origin story about one of pop culture’s most emblematic serial killers, and his lasting bite on society,” writes Pappas.

📖 Bookstore Faves

Taschen Beverly Hills sells eye-catching artistic works

(TASCHEN)

Taschen Beverly Hills may well be the most gorgeous bookstore in Los Angeles, all gleaming, polished wood and ambient light illuminating the store’s lavishly illustrated art and design books. The shop opened over two decades ago as a showcase for the German publisher’s catalog, and it remains a popular destination for tourists and Taschen cultists who collect the company’s highly collectible titles. I spoke with Taschen Executive Director Creed Poulson about what’s selling right now.

What is the store’s clientele?

At the risk of sounding like a marketing manager, we have something for everyone, because our price points range from $10 up to thousands of dollars. Which allows us to have a mixed clientele in the store.

I know there is a kind of Taschen cult, folks who will buy your books because of your reputation.

That comes from our owner Benedikt Taschen, who is a collector and understands the mindset of a collector. Our books become collectible, regardless of the cost.

What is selling right now?

“Ferrari” by Pino Allievi, who is one of Formula One’s best known correspondents. “The James Bond Archives,” which is edited by Paul Duncan, and “Ultimate Collector Watches” by Charlotte and Peter Fiell.

Lately, there has been a turn among Gen Z into all things analog. Have you seen younger customers come into the store?

Yes, absolutely. I’m seeing a lot of the younger generation coming, especially during our annual sales — fans that are migrating away from just looking at images online, into book collecting. They want a tactile object they can hold and feel, and they want something they can enjoy as an object.