Nicholas Ray’s Johnny Guitar is a film that’s many things to many people, from camp spectacular to revisionist genre epic, and nearly every reading seems viable.
When the genre-film spectacle arrives, the strictures of the framing device manage to amplify the impact of the shocks and scares.
Korine talkes to us about his commitment to 35mm, insufferable record collectors, and the scourge of compromise.
For about as long as there have been video games, there have been video games about cars.
Why are they laughing?
The canon cries out for rejuvenation, and so we size up another annual Allen tradition: the commemoration of his greatest hits.
Cars, it’s often been observed, offer a sort of contradiction of motion: They allow us to move around while sitting still.
The trick at the center of the film, of course, is that its message doesn’t seem subversive or challenging at all.
Mad Men’s meandering, beguiling sixth season arrives on home video looking and sounding better than ever.
As is so often the case in Jim Jarmusch’s films, simply spending time in the company of his creations proves engrossing.
Lav Diaz’s film doesn’t just convey time, endurance, perseverance; it makes us feel them.
It confidently and openly grapples with its weighty thematic issues before sublimating them into something supernatural.
Shari Springer Berman and Robert Pulcini’s dismal, D-grade sitcom isn’t fit to lick the boots of Whit Stillman’s four films.
Harold Lloyd’s Safety Last! reminds us how little has changed in nearly a century.
Jean-Luc Godard’s most deliberately frivolous film remains a light-touch slice of New Wave romanticism.
Neveldine and Taylor’s great, widely under-appreciated Gamer returns to Blu-ray with an aptly superfluous third dimension.
This sterling Blu-ray will remind fans that the show graduated to greatness in its third season.
Absent of any sense of self-awareness, Oblivion seems only self-serious, a ponderous mess both misguided and unaware.
As Shout! Factory’s double-feature Blu-ray ably proves, the Police Story films confirm Jackie Chan’s reputation as a master of pure physicality.
When its third act erupts into full-blown theatrical maximalism, it practically turns into a Brian De Palma film.