The solid transfer will allow home viewers to fully experience Cattet and Forzani’s unrelenting, expressionistic assault on the senses.
Like Jennifer Lopez herself, Peter Segal’s Second Act attempts to wear many hats.
This is a more wallet-friendly option than Ingmar Bergman's Cinema to owning one of the director's finest early works.
For all of its slavish devotion to Mary Poppins, the sequel doesn’t even seem to recognize its greatest attribute: its star.
All the palace intrigue and endless backstabbing in Mary Queen of Scots feels at once overly familiar and underdeveloped.
The film reduces Ruth Bader Ginsburg's life to a series of clearly defined hurdles and overemphatic realizations.
While Mowgli: Legend of the Jungle’s perception of the politics of the jungle is often profound, the same cannot be said of its take on the human world.
Anna and the Apocalypse‘s biggest problem is its inability to lend its clichés and tropes any dramatic thrust or satirical bite.
In the end, the film succumbs to the tropes and emotional contrivances of the family melodrama at its core.
This disc is barebones, so Spike Lee fans will have settle for a solid transfer of the film itself when relishing this fo’ real, fo’ real shit at home.
The film quickly reveals that the only angle it’s interested in is the one that most sympathizes Gary Hart.
The film’s verité approach risks humanizing Abu Osama, but we eventually gain a complex understanding of the banality of his evil.
The documentary is a loving, albeit meandering, tribute to the 20th century’s most famous—and infamous—soprano.
The film is a second-rate airport thriller that makes The Hunt for Red October seem like nonfiction by comparison.
Johnny English Strikes Again seems almost hellbent on aiming for the lowest common denominator at every turn.
The film homes in on the ways Nadia Murad’s fragility and self-doubt arise as collateral damage from her fame and steadfast activism.
Writer-director Megan Griffiths’s film remains a clear-eyed portrait of maternal love and teenage turmoil.
That a drop from the Jaws score wouldn’t be out of place on 22 July‘s soundtrack shows how tactlessly Paul Greengrass milks tragedy for titillation.
Bad Times at the El Royale begins as a cheeky chamber drama before morphing into an expectation-busting blend of noir and pitch-black comedy.
The film dwells in a murky middle ground where everything is overblown but meant to be taken at face value.