The series misses out on the chance to make a more memorable study of an unforgettable crime spree.
Ramin Bahrani’s film is a turbulent and snarkily self-aware melodrama about breathless social climbing.
Phyllida Lloyd’s film cannot escape its own somewhat mundane self-set contours.
The film shows a preference for forgiveness over vengeance, which feels like an okay way to end this particular year.
The Father approximates the dislocation of its main character’s mind with a frighteningly slippery ease.
The film is affectingly poignant in its frequently uncomfortable presentation of MacGowan’s physical ruination.
Hillbilly Elegy feels like a bland feel-good story rather than one part of a longer tragedy with no clear end.
The film doesn’t deliver much in the way of surprises, but it’s more honest than it might initially seem.
The documentary is determined not to be a typical rock-god story with predictable rise-and-fall arcs.
This is a sleeker-looking vehicle that’s eager to be scary but not comfortable being ugly.
The film is a pretty bauble of a thing that ticks off the story’s shock revelations in an efficient, if not particularly surprising, fashion.
The film looks for an emotional payoff by continually upping the stakes of its main character’s self-destructive short-term thinking.
It pulses with relevancy in a time when debates over authoritarianism, protests, and the necessity of radicalism are convulsing America.
The film refrains from any dubious moral calculations by giving King’s personal deceptions the same weight as his public morality.
The final product feels like it would have been most appropriate as a video presentation for the Democratic National Convention.
Throughout, Chloé Zhao generates a gradually swelling tension underneath her film’s somewhat placid surface.
Much of the show’s drama pivots around how successful it will be at slowly pulling back the curtain.
Jia Zhang-ke’s film is a quietly reflective, intermittently rambling rumination on an explosively momentous period in Chinese history.
It alternates political ponderings with a loose and discursive subtext in which Hubert Sauper explores the idea of Cuba as an island paradise.
When something is an open secret, does confirmation matter?