Arie Posin’s almost offensively “tasteful” dud remains irritatingly on the surface, more alive to the set design than the characters’ motivations.
“Flo” benefits enormously from Becky Ann Baker’s reliably lucid and moving performance as Hannah’s mom, Loreen.
Another series devoted to brilliantly tormented killers and the brilliantly tormented master investigators pursuing them.
The premise might make sense, if only hypocritically, but the film abandons this already flimsy parody of macho pride disastrously at the last minute.
This key work in the development of one of the most important voices in contemporary American cinema receives the Criterion red-carpet treatment.
As an amusing cameo by Patti LuPone illustrates, Hannah often resembles a jingle salesman.
For its authentic engagement with despair, Hannibal is a great, epic vision of American horror that earns its wrenching nihilism.
Jeon Kyu-hwan’s The Weight often suggests a very sick joke that somehow concludes with a shaggy-dog variation of “and you think you got problems?”
It confirms that Marnie is no longer a sporadically irritating supporting player, but the center of Girls’s empathetic imagination.
It’ll do for Allen’s completest fans, but Crimes and Misdemeanors merits a more eventful home-video presentation.
The supplements and sound mixes are solid, but this unevenly visually tweaked Darkman leaves quite a bit of room for image improvement.
“Free Snacks” is lighter than air, and it affords Lena Dunham the opportunity to lighten up as an actress.
There’s ultimately little in the way of authentically resonant drama underneath the film’s self-conscious busy-ness.
Fantastic Mr. Fox is one of Wes Anderson’s funniest, wisest, and most beautiful explorations of lost dreams.
This almost weirdly resonant Stallone vehicle nets an attractive transfer that should please hardcore action fans and genre tourists alike.
“Only Child” serves as a succinct primer on all that’s currently right and wrong with Girls.
The film is a quiet, tender triumph that leaves you feeling as if you’ve been embraced without you feeling had.
Just in time for Valentine’s Day, Truffaut’s masterpiece arrives to remind us of love’s myriad self-delusions.
“The Seven Wonders” finds Coven largely tending, predictably for the most part, to a final bit of plot bookkeeping.
It finds Girls addressing the Biggest Subject without losing its sense of oxymoronic comedy that’s rooted in contained rootlessness.