Sam C. Mac

Cruelty here can feel pretty cheap, perhaps a result of Bruno Dumont not knowing how to effectively command comedy yet.

Alain Guiraudie’s latest represents a lot of the same interests that were woven into Stranger by the Lake.

The issue with X-Men: Apocalypse is that Bryan Singer suggests so many possible directions to go in and still chooses the least interesting one.

The video works by representing the body as the most direct visual expression of the self.

There’s something especially telling about the way The Jungle Book liberally borrows not only from its own mythology, but also from The Lion King.

One gets the sense that power and meaning have been accumulated at a pace appropriately representative of Kirsten Johnson’s own experiences.

The documentary is a loud condemnation of what Chinese civilization has wrought, and what it’s irrevocably lost.

True/False’s music performances this year had a greater margin of inconsistency than its film program.

The festival, which runs from March 3rd to 6th, already seems to have the country’s most important social issue on its agenda.

For both its earnest, uninhibited sense of play and impeccable pop, Painting With is a uniquely affecting album.

The album serves as a reminder that Williams’s best songs need not inhabit one specific place, geographically or emotionally.

It finds a benefit in its genre affiliation, evenly distributing its action in quick bursts of fluidly animated fight choreography.

Donnie Yen’s performance is so good that it’s a shame Wilson Yip’s films have never strived to be more than briskly entertaining hagiography.

The album has its share of big moments, but it’s mostly made up of small, claustrophobic gestures of prickly emotional uncertainty.

The film exists less as a meaningful extension of its world than as a fan-service deployment device.

Chi-Raq is a Spike Lee joint in the urgent sociopolitical register of Radio Raheem’s boombox—a call to arms that’s also a call to disarm.

Throughout, director Justin Kurzel’s stagey pretensions clash with each of his aesthetic choices.

Purpose arrives at the end of a half-cocked goodwill tour rife with transparently calculated displays of repentance.

The worst that can be said of Art Angels is that its maximalist ambitions sometimes overshoot the needs of pop.

The dancehall crooner shows a vested interest in the music scene that fostered his talents.