John Dahl’s film is tailor-made for the Scream crowd.
The film is a penetrating peek into the daily life of a woodcutter from Argentina’s Pampa.
Italian for Beginners is the warmest and most delicate of crowd pleasers.
Manoel de Oliveira suggests that there’s no place like home and certainly no better place to die.
It’s a one-joke movie, but a funny one nonetheless.
The film is naïvely entranced by those incidents in life that are perhaps not worth thinking about.
Todd Solondz is sensitive to criticism, a fear he hypocritically lays bare throughout Storytelling.
Less feel-good than Children of Heaven and less picturesque than The Color of Paradise, the film is powerfully lucid.
Catherine Breillat’s film is a startling vision of the prickly crawlspace between innocence and sexual awakening.
Mulholland Drive is a haunting, selfish masterpiece that literalizes the theory of surrealism as perpetual dream state.
It’s Bruce Weber’s Abercrombie & Fitch fantasies that reign supreme here.
Imamura Shôhei’s film is a delirious ode to the female orgasm.
Barry Levinson’s latest is shamelessly devoid of subtext.
This South Korean thriller-chiller is as shamelessly predictable as it is memorably grim.
The film solidifies Scott Hicks’s rank as one of Hollywood’s most visually evocative power-players.
The film works both as art-house spooker and political allegory.
Old school meets new school at the festival, where a formidable faction of Nouvelle Vague auteurs and their upstarts overwhelm the program.
The lightweight British import Born Romantic is harmless yet completely forgettable.
Lucrecia Martel’s La Ciénaga is a stunning affront to bourgeois complacency.
The film is a Freud for Dummies journey into mind-cracking.