Using the folk music of a remote land as a tool to recreate the image of a difficult, departed father is the agenda of The Hand of Fatima.
The film finds the origins of Kunstler’s anti-establishment rage for justice in his wounding by bayonet in WWII’s Pacific theater.
Even for non-fanatics, this packaging of perhaps the most beloved European film of a generation is heaven-sent.
The grand theme of Wim Wenders’s film is storytelling in all its forms as a coping mechanism of the human race.
The film’s scattershot blasts at unconventional warfare and hippie transcendentalism are too impotent to produce much laughter.
The film’s more conventional elements are overcome by a core of idealism and fury that shows “incredible resistance.”
This edition of Z lives, perhaps ironically, through the beauty of its surface and sheen.
Most viewers are unlikely to share the depth of Peter Greenaway’s art-geek obsession with this purported murder mystery in oils.
At least Motherhood is sufficiently aware enough of its well-heeled sob story’s privileged scope.
Eric Bricker’s art-doc Visual Acoustics gives a convincing, contagious taste of its protagonist’s playful optimism.
This Marlene edition’s bare-bones production might prompt a Dietrich-like hissy fit.
Andy Bichlbaum and Mike Bonanno are back with more gleefully executed anti-corporate hoaxes.
The parrying between the withholding diva and her frustrated chronicler brings to mind Sunset Boulevard.
American Journey works only sporadically as a supplement to the cultural moment it chronicles.
Claire Denis’s wide scope on life means there’s social context to the interpersonal dynamics, both through other lives glimpsed and everyday postcolonial politics.
It chooses not to follow the money but one man’s evolution in the pursuit of principle.
A relic of WWII homefront propaganda where the call to arms ultimately overwhelms its star-driven romance.
The wartime flag-waving beloved by Churchill seizes the film from the rightful ownership of Vivien Leigh.
No Impact Man doesn’t soft-pedal the fact that the calculated, consciousness-raising media event it chronicles is a conceptual stunt.
At the very least, I Love You, Man warns us of the risks of telling someone to clean up their dog’s shit.