A lovely ode to women, sexuality, creativity, and New York City.
Tacky but completely in-season, the film is the type of studio claptrap you get when the country’s economy is in complete meltdown.
Edited to induce seizures, Morning Light should appeal to fans of MTV and water sports.
A well-meaning dud, the film’s only defiance is testing its audience’s patience.
Bergman Island isn’t a keeper, but it reveals that Bergman wasn’t, at least in real life, a merchant of doom and gloom.
A featurette or liner notes elaborating on the subversive qualities of the film would have been nice.
The film often plays like a straight-faced homage to a genre of film that has been cannily geared in recent years to urban audiences.
The nuances of human relationships are conveyed via Pixar’s predictably acute attention to detail, coded in mysterious evocations of mood.
The latest from the Dogma cine-factory is notable for director Kristian Levring’s visual suggestion of madness.
Like Old Joy, the film’s calculated understatement is at once instrumental to its bliss and damnation.
Your bones will feel osteoporotic by the time you’re done consuming the extras on this hearty DVD package, but fans of the film will no doubt welcome the process.
The film is an obtuse stylistic immersion from the typically on-point and perceptive Jim Jarmusch.
The film delivers an intriguing message about mental illness as we understand it to manifest itself within us.
Though it largely coasts on shots of kids being adorable and parents behaving badly, the film occasionally proves illuminating.
Though well cast, the film simply lacks for the very mysteries that dignify the novel.
Throughout, everyone is framed in cramped compositions that suggest the influence of The Simpsons by way of Ulrich Seidl.
What this dreamy tour of the French and Spanish countryside more accurately represents is the most attractively shot twin porn off all time.
Review: Stay the Same Never Change is catnip for devotees of Laura Mulvey and art installations.
Too often it feels like a catalog of the worst offenses of films like Crash, Frozen River, and The Visitor.
BirdWatchers tells a story of great friction at once eerily poetic and didactic.