Stone’s most underrated movie is a dark comic fantasy of sin and futility as well as one of the craziest and most beautiful of all noirs.
Hoop Dreams blends art and protest in a manner that recalls the writing of Charles Dickens and Richard Price.
A fawning tribute to the cult legend, enriched by a subtle current of sadness that prevents the doc from turning into a DVD supplement.
The film is a low-rent fusion of Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, First Knight, and Gladiator.
A strange case of Lifeforce-lite that will probably only play to fans of weirdly loopy, inadvertently resonant monster-movie extravaganzas.
This presentation is a beautiful, if barebones, means of introducing newcomers to one of Welles’s more idiosyncratic commercial films.
Its peculiarly exhilarating effect can be attributed to a sense of social outrage that’s transcended for the sake of metaphoric social clarity.
The film can’t reconcile Ron Rash’s apocalyptic tenderness with its own eagerness to revel in romantic star allure.
The politics of the boat as it reaches calamity are mostly reduced to a singular urge to kill one character.
Yohei Suzuki has a Jarmuschian taste for mining social alienation for the occasional stray deadpan punchline.
Bloodline is full of gifted actors, but Ben Mendelsohn walks away with it, largely because of his uniquely poignant sleaze-ball charisma.
Perry’s film receives a beautiful DVD transfer that has one foot rooted appropriately in the less varnished past.
The film eventually grows slack and sentimental, reverting to the survival-movie platitude about hardship making you a better human.
The gorgeously wide open framing of the film often evokes the atmosphere of a great Italian western.
Spring bridges the cautionary elements of a horror film with the wish-fulfilling platitudes of a touristy romance.
A gorgeous restoration of a formally adventurous and unjustly overlooked noir by an almost equally overlooked acting-filmmaking hyphenate.
It evinces no interest in the people who come into Max’s store and wind up as fodder for his increasingly violent and self-absorbed escapades.
The material, convoluted even by Shakespeare’s narratively dexterous standards, is admittedly a tough nut for a filmmaker to crack.
A top-notch release that will hopefully continue its rising reputation as a masterpiece of idiosyncratic stealth cinema.
Kristina Grozeva and Petar Valchanov’s film ultimately understands poverty as a profound and often irreversible desolation of terra firma.