Owen Gleiberman Chief Film CriticIf you’re of a certain age, the mere mention of the name M.C. Escher can nudge you into a heady swirl of nostalgia.
Robin Lutz’s joyful and kaleidoscopic documentary “M.C. Escher: Journey to Infinity” took me back to the days when I was in junior high in the early ’70s, and I would go downtown to visit the head shops and stores selling beads and waterbeds, and there, amid the R.
Crumb comix and hash pipes and alternative newspapers and tie-dye T-shirts, you would see those jaw-dropping eye-popping posters, most of them in black-and-white (a few, hung in the black-light room, in psychedelic color), and you would stare at them until they seemed to be staring right back.
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