Raja Gosnell’s particular zeal to modernize the Smurfs only develops this would-be family comedy into a shamelessly manipulative smurftastrophe.
Dean Parisot’s film is an awfully expensive and grossly extended Cialis commercial.
No is one of the most unexpectedly resonant and heartfelt films of the year
The obvious amount of hard work that went into this out-of-touch sequel is partly what makes it so irritating.
Clouse’s classic celebrates its 40th anniversary with a top-shelf package that includes a bounty of extras and a beautiful new transfer.
The script’s jumble of plot asides and family-friendly pandering is enough to make you want to root for a hero.
The film protests that bad behavior isn’t only good, but also essential to art.
Its characters are creatures of habit, seeking and constantly rebuffing liberation, and the series similarly depends on its tired rituals to survive.
The zombies twitch, leap, gnash, and destroy, but the film has all the thrill and surprise of a model U.N. summit.
Praises the electric carelessness of teenage angst while depicting it as if it were ultimately no more exciting, though no less pleasant, than an hour in the wave pool.
All its faux-patriotism isn’t played for satire, but instead utilized to align the film with an idyllic, unquestioned vision of goodness.
The film speeds onto Blu-ray with a fantastic A/V transfer and a highly enjoyable commentary by director James William Guercio.
The hollow dazzle of Strictly Ballroom looks bold and sounds great thanks to Lionsgate’s strong transfer and packaging.
The film is nothing without the physicality of the performers, as the script handles the transition of Shakespeare’s language to modern day indifferently.
The AMC drama feels leaner and meaner, quickly recuperating from its needlessly extended and convoluted former storyline.
The art of storytelling is both of distinct narrative interest and personal issue in the latest payload of calcified nonsense from one of modern cinema’s oddest would-be auteurs.
The show’s aesthetic is marked by off-tempo editing and a tone that vacillates between grim and coy.
With the exception of a feature-length making-of doc, this release is identical to the previous Blu-ray edition of the classic comedy.
Criterion may not adorn Jubal with much more than a reliably top-shelf transfer, but the salvaging of a lost masterpiece is reward enough.
Behind the Candelabra is powerful, funny, and emotionally rigorous, and also serves as an uncommonly heartfelt Dear John letter.