Every Sunday morning at 12 a.m. on the dot, I find myself scrolling through the newly uploaded postcards inscribed with anonymous sender’s secrets on PostSecret.com. PostSecret is an ongoing, collaborative art project made up of homemade postcards from anonymous senders from around the world. It is also the largest advertisement-free blog in the world with a visitor count exceeding well over 600,000,000. The visionary and driving force behind this ongoing project is Frank Warren. Warren not only runs the site with assistance from others, including his wife, but actually has the postcards sent to his own home, oftentimes leaving him and his partner buried in piles of cards.

Some of the more recent postcards will be published in Warren’s sixth book to date, The World of PostSecret, which is compiled of dozens of secrets posted on the website, as well as some never before posted. Warren even includes secrets of his own in each book, but rather than leaving them anonymous, he signs them. That being said, it should be noted that the new compilation is to be released on Nov. 4 of this year.

Postsecret.com harbors a close knit, supportive community. Admittedly, it first struck me as a strange thought that so many strangers can come together to support one another as a result of having read a person’s confession. Sometimes, postcards are made to be responses to others and are sent to Warren as a way of connecting with a specific card sender. Other times the individuals leave comments to specific senders to let them know that their struggles are not hopeless or unknown to others. Warren goes as far as providing individuals with a number of tools via links, on the side bar of the site, to websites for suicide prevention and others that are meant to be platforms for discussion.

At times, the brief words written on the postcards are light, even playful, and others shake you to the very core. At the bottom of everything, PostSecret offers an atmosphere for individuals to feel secure in honestly confessing long-held secrets or even basic truths they don’t feel comfortable sharing aloud.

Written in purple marker on top of a ripped corner of a math worksheet, anonymous sender writes: “Being told I was smart when I was little has ruined my life.” This is just one of many confessions spilled out onto a postcard.

It is a humbling and touching experience reaching out to others and finding that you aren’t alone in feeling the way you feel, whatever that feeling may be. Any project that facilities such an environment for people, let alone utter strangers, to come together in support of one another deserves recognition.

Follow Ghoncheh Azadeh on Twitter @GhonchehAzadeh

What you don’t find out just by watching The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby is that it was originally made as three separate films that were only later truncated into one shorter feature. Writer-director Ned Benson said this was in effort to keep audience attention rather than have them sit for hours of film. In spite of this consideration, I find myself hard-pressed to believe that an extension of the blended, perplexing outlooks that drive this narrative will lose your attention.

The three separate films revolve around the same time period and the story keeps its focus on a young married couple. Thus, The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby is the collective title and truncated version of three separate films: Him, Her and Them.

Him and Her were screened in 2013, while Them was first screened in 2014. Interestingly, the film not only follows two perspectives (that of the husband and that of the wife), but it stitches together what were originally two completely different scripts. The overlap of the scripts, remarkably, maintains the emotional trajectory of both individuals’ points of view offered in the separate pictures. It seems as though the vision for the completed picture started out as merely scattered, vague ideas of what eventually become a full, refined story about loss coupled with heartbreak.

Eleanor Rigby (Jessica Chastain) and Connor Ludlow (James McAvoy) are both living in New York and coping with their mutual loss in quite different ways, while simultaneously struggling with identity issues. Hence, the title The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby is more so a metaphorical one. The disappearance alludes to one’s identity, but not to one in the physical sense. Both Eleanor and Connor wind up back in their parents’ homes after finding themselves unable to work through their grieving together. While Connor continues to work in his struggling restaurant with the company of his coworkers and friends, Eleanor winds up going back to college in an attempt to find herself.

It isn’t only two viewpoints that are offered, but two differing approaches in terms of coping with loss. One moment two individuals are completely in rhythm with one another and the next, they are moving forward in opposing directions. Although living apart at the time, the two reconnect and attempt to talk through their problems, but it seems as if the loss was too great to overcome individually, let alone together. Each attempt to hold dialogue results in failure.

The flashbacks of the couple’s interactions prior to the incident reveal two people who were at one point very much in love, inseparable even. Connor’s (McAvoy) father advises late into the film: “You shouldn’t be interested in regretting things.” The message stakes itself in the back of the viewer’s mind as the film proceeds. What event exactly ruptured the marriage isn’t clear for nearly the entirety of the film. The audience works to guess the mystery and is often supplied with misleading hints suggesting that the incident may have had to do with something along the lines of cheating, when it is something of greater levity. It’s a heartbreaker.

Much of the film takes place outside, in the more troubling hours of night. The dark setting allows the director to utilize lighting to create an alienated and contemplative mood. On the whole, the picturesque cinematography, in accordance with the romance interrupted by unforeseen loss, highlights the often-overlooked beauty in reveling in sadness.

The Bijou Metro (43 W Broadway) is showing The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby. Showtimes can be found on its website.

Without having read a synopsis or storyline of any sort, it can be easily presumed that walking into the theaters to see The Skeleton Twins implies a purely comical experience. Given that Bill Hader and Kristen Wiig are widely acknowledged for their comedic careers as cast members on Saturday Night Live, it’s difficult to part with this assumption. And luckily, you won’t have to entirely. Despite this picture having been shot in only 22 days due to its low budget, and being Hader’s first dramatic role, the film achieves a strong balance between lighthearted humor and heavier subject matter.

The film makes it immediately evident that it’s not a comedy – from the start, the audience is cast into an isolated, Los Angeles apartment where Blondie’s cover of “Denis” is blasting. Milo (Hader) takes a deep gaze into his beloved fish tank just prior to submersing himself into his bathtub and slitting his wrists. Meanwhile, his estranged twin sister Maggie (Wiig) is found standing in New York, coincidentally, with a handful of pills that she is about to consume until she unexpectedly receives a phone call from a Los Angeles hospital that notifies her of Milo’s attempted suicide.

The incident prompts Maggie to fly to L.A. and return to her home in New York with Milo. At the lowest point in their lives, the twins attempt to reconnect while dealing with their respective issues.

The film that was awarded for its screenwriting at the 2014 Sundance Film Festival manages to strike a precise balance. The script is tight enough to achieve a reflective and contented feeling from its audience, and subtle enough to leave the audience just enough in terms of reassessing their own lives, as opposed to spoon-feeding them prescribed emotions.

Writers Craig Johnson and Mark Heyman implore the viewer to investigate their own fears of loneliness and vulnerability alongside the leading roles in a truly human way. The dynamic between the actors is played off effortlessly with Hader and Wiig’s charming and natural personalities. The performances make for an impressively character-driven film.

Yet, the comedic scenes are not to be overlooked. A peculiar balance is struck in which the dark subject matter serves to make the audience feel more connected to the lighthearted portions of the film. Few individuals are more fit to take on the task of re-surging a grim mood than Hader and Wiig.

The strong 1980s score complements the characters’ personalities and leaves the audience with a bittersweet feeling. A karaoke duet between the two talents of Starship’s “Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now” is wisely employed just moments after a heavier scene. The duet is both heartwarming and reassuring that there is always someone who can be relied upon to pull us out of our lowest moments.

The Bijou Cinemas (492 East 13^th Ave) is showing The Skeleton Twins. Showtimes can be found on their website.

Flying Lotus, the Los Angeles-based music producer and experimental musician, recently released his fifth album, You’re Dead! in which he captures a fairly holistic image of his past with a greater jazz emphasis. This jazz element is what makes all the difference and is present within some of the more evocative tracks. This record is far from sloppy and perhaps even Flying Lotus’s most comprehensive release to date. A thorough listen reveals precision through and through, whether it be within the vocals, keys or production, You’re Dead! is undoubtedly a collective accomplishment.

You’re Dead! works with an extensive list of 19 tracks and maintains the listener’s attention throughout the entire project. To that end, I find this to be a result of the concise duration of songs, such as “Stirring,” which is a mere 31-second track. The brevity of the tunes certainly leaves the listener wanting more, and simultaneously works as a transitional segment, thereby allowing a majority of the focus to lie on the album’s more significant features.

My only bone to pick is with the jazziest tunes, such as “Turkey Dog Coma.” The saxophone masterfully takes the forefront, and yet I feel slightly cheated insofar as the ensemble of instruments was not given a fair amount of time to develop fully. Nonetheless, this may have been the aim all along. Perhaps this was just another gimmick to keep the listener anxious and wanting more.

Aside from the jazzy tunes, it seems likely that “Never Catch Me feat. Kendrick Lamar” will be the most recognized track by the general public and for good reason at that. The catchy, repeated lyrics “You’ll never ever catch me” complement a powerful background production as well as a strong keyboard addition. The ease with which these components blend together is remarkable, as is the case with several other tracks.

Two personal favorites on this album are “Coronus, the Terminator” and “Descent into Madness feat. Thundercat.” The soft, hypnotic effect from the male and female vocal counterparts draw in the listener with the former track. Not only that, but upon multiple listens, it becomes clear that it is quite a simple song to sway and clap along with.

The same cannot be said of “Descent into Madness feat. Thundercat.” This is by far the most haunting track on the album. The vocalist menacingly recites the lines “Can you feel the walls are closing in / Welcome to the descent / The descent / The descent into madness.” The eerie feeling remains consistent throughout the track. Luckily, as listeners, we are not left hanging in this strange place of madness.

Admittedly, I typically find albums containing an extensive number of tracks to drop the ball at some point, so to speak. With You’re Dead!, I was pleasantly surprised to find that Flying Lotus makes good on this project by carrying the listener throughout the album with mindfully placed transitions between the more complex songs. This doesn’t overwhelm the listener and allows them to pay special attention to the more electronically produced tunes.