However narratively slipshod, Piñero has passion to burn.
This is the most deadpan piece of pop art this side of The Simpsons.
The visual effects fantastically morph the film’s frescos into illusory gateways into Anna’s subconscious.
Needlessly convoluted, yes, but batty sometimes in a good way:
The success of Dario Argento’s masterpiece depends on the spectator’s appreciation for its rigid self-reflexivity.
The film is perhaps most remarkable for it’s unusual spiritual underpinnings and Dario Argento’s deft attention for sexual signifiers.
Dario Argento undervalues his material, but his set pieces are glorious enough that the film’s plot contrivances can be forgiven.
Ray Lawrence’s Lantana is a multi-character relationship saga disguised as a bubbling thriller.
Though Dario Argento is known for actively toying with camp, the film’s campiest moments seem unintential.
Take Opera as the last time the great Dario Argento was cracked himself.
Phenomena’s paranormal obsessions are unlike anything you’ve ever seen.
Wes Anderson’s obsession with failure becomes so tightly bound with hope that death itself becomes a vehicle to joy.
How High is perhaps best savored during that peak high where a Costner landscape begins to resemble a Malick existential crisis.
Mike White’s jokes are genuinely cutting, especially when boredom and drugs give way to slippery sexuality.
The cows have it hard in Texas Rangers, a.k.a. Dude, Where’s My Cattle?
The film is an absurd, sometimes heavy-handed, but never less than evocative ode to the perpetually disguised Afghan woman.
I Am Sam is the green eggs and ham rendition of the custody-battle melodrama.
Now that Dubya’s in control, a post-9/11 Hollywood is raring to tickle the president’s cave fetish.
In the fluorescent-happy Bangkok Dangerous, Oxide and Danny Pang transform Bangkok into ready-made speed for the raver sect.
As if conceived during a Dukes of Hazzard shooting hiatus, Out Cold may be retro, but it’s sans daisy dukes.