The film isn’t sexy, it’s devoid of campy thrills, and it’s singularly unfunny.
Unless you prefer your cinematic collages thematically disconnected, you’re better off taking in The Atomic Café.
Like many a contemporary lowbrow comedy, MacGruber’s at its best when it’s most vulgar.
For the most part, the film’s story is one of heroism in the face of potentially deadly circumstances.
The film is so insistently irritating and so consistently lacking in laughs that its alleged comedy quickly becomes an exercise in exhaustion.
Why are the Japanese so obsessed with insects? According to Beetle Queen Conquers Tokyo, it might have something to do with Japan’s cultural history.
The film is drunk on the possibilities of cinema in a way that’s rare and essential. A sparkling Blu-ray transfer makes it a must-see.
Gravity becomes an athiest’s testament to the power of belief.
Rodrigo Garcia’s film is a two-hankie weepie for the family-values set.
This period psychological thriller features two scenes of startling violence, but they’re far more unpleasant than shocking.
The film seems geared to the same superficial, property-obsessed, upper-middle-class sensibility that New York magazine peddles on a weekly basis.
The film deserves to stand with the conclusion of Allen Coulter’s Remember Me as a textbook example of the sublimely awful.
To watch Open House is to revisit some of the hoarier conceits marking the last half-century of the non-supernatural horror film.
For every bit of evocative audio/video collision, there’s too much here that’s willfully obscure.
In Lola’s downtrodden Manila setting, everything revolves around money.
The film takes the audience’s homophobia as a given and then uses that bias as the springboard for a round of alleged comedy.
A solid DVD presentation of a highly dubious documentary experience.
Bahman Ghobadi’s film is at its strongest when establishing the culture of an underground driven by a near fanatical devotion to music.
DP Javier Aguirresarobe frames the action in a series of handsome, unfussy arrangements that matches the languished mood of the piece.
If there’s anything the world surely doesn’t need it’s one more admiring regurgitation of the Jim Morrison mythos.