One of the most harrowing cinematic depictions of drug addiction in recent memory.
Stéphane Lafleur denies Nicole the angsty treatments given similar characters in films like Frances Ha by refusing to saturate the film with an undergirding sense of charm.
The film settles into a time-honored groove of so many forgettable juvenile comedies before it.
If the documentary isn't quite dynamic in its revelations, it's considerably more so in its challengingly essayistic presentation.
Through an elegant visual style, Jean-François Caissy simply seeks to evoke the feeling of living at such a spirited age.
It's the cinematic equivalent of a pat on the back accompanied by a slap in the face.
In Brad Bird's film, the way forward is backward, on a path that stumbles into misplaced nostalgia and dicey humanism.
Tom Six has achieved the seemingly impossible: He's made a film even less watchable than The Human Centipede II.
The film at first plays like a refresher and throwback to Hayao Miyazaki's Kiki's Delivery Service, before revealing itself to be less minimal than minor.
The film's images, so continually heartrending so as to never become redundant, effectively function as visual proselytizing.
The Claudia Llosa film's worst quality is its underhanded attempt to convey a complex recounting of one family's ordeal while fudging all the pertinent details.
A neatly balanced tragicomedy about the easily blurred line between assisted living and assisted death.
Transparently wearing metaphors on its singed sleeves, the film shuttles around courses of meaning and significance without committing to any.
Alonso Ruizpalacios's film is a good story, full of life and related with intelligence and a sense of humor.
First-person accounts from individuals most affected by the drop in agricultural productivity are rarely the focus of the film's vision.
It may be described as a Yasujirô Ozu drama done in the Romanian style; if only there was more to distinguish it beyond such extra-textual concerns.
Yael Melamede doesn't dwell on each of her subjects' stories beyond the condensed version that's related on screen.
George Miller orchestrates the rubber-burning pandemonium with the illicit smirk of someone who knows he's giving us exactly what we want.
Even stronger than its predecessor, which didn't quite go as far in terms of representing these young women in a wider context.
A pageantry of pseudo-art poses, a self-consciously cool reorientation of the western as silly symphony.
It has a problem that's familiar to competently made, sporadically involving crime procedurals: It's just good enough to inspire wishes that it were better.
Highly polished yet never quite slick, it devolves now and then into cartoonish cutesiness with its broadly drawn minor characters.
Our preview section is your best, most complete guide for all the films, big and small, coming your way soon. >>
Enter to win a Blu-ray of Orange Is the New Black: Season Two, DVDs of Cops: Wildest Chases and Bar Rescue: Toughest Rescues, and Hot Tub Time Machine 2 and The President's Shadow prizepacks! >>