The film is an ultra-violent parody of unearned self-entitlement, of people who feel tricked into a lifestyle they refuse to challenge for the comforts it still offers.
Pauline Chan infuriatingly glorifies Mei Mei’s life-endangering stupidity as a testament to nobility.
Christopher Guest refurbishes the often tedious stunted-male coming-of-age scenario with his distinct, gently despairing, satiric stylings.
No, there aren’t any extras to speak of, and it doesn’t matter. Shane Carruth’s mesmerizing fantasy is still a must-own.
A middling genre movie, but it’s oddly likable for its conflicted, unresolved tension.
Fans of Russell’s oddly unpleasant wish-fulfillment fantasy should be pleased by this solid Blu-ray transfer.
D.W. Young navigates his varying moods with an ease that’s particularly impressive for a director making his feature debut, but he never capitalizes on his ability to coax down our guard.
A gorgeous disc that affords audiences a second chance to catch up with David Chase’s moving ode to dreams elapsed.
The film’s plot isn’t unusual, but director Ron Morales strips it down to its primal essence.
It lacks the fire and eccentricity that we want from our stories of adventurers driven by obsessions that could be seen as egotistical or just plain bonkers.
Certainly a zesty night at the movies, but underneath the film’s mock pretensions is a relatively conventional revenge thriller.
Writer-director Andy Gillies’s film is extremely self-conscious, but in a fashion that generally serves the material.
One of the most beautiful color films ever made, Gate of Hell is a despairing post-war masterpiece ripe for rediscovery.
A one-joke movie—a good joke, yes, but Brandon Cronenberg’s agenda clouds the clarity that’s needed to fully deliver the punchline.
The film is clearly a low-budget production, but this transfer is impressively detailed.
The film has an engagingly profane, scruffy looseness that undermines the conventions of the narrative.
The film belongs to a long tradition of horror films that offensively suggest that all atheists might as well hang a “Welcome” sign up for the devil.
The film suggests what might happen if TBS and Bruce Springsteen were to collaborate on a sitcom set in hell.
The lame extras are disappointing, but Spielberg’s quietly subversive political comedy receives an otherwise superlative transfer.
The filmmaker’s failure of empathy for those who strive to outlaw medicinal marijuana turns the protestors into hissable puritanical bad guys.