Tim Burton’s Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street gets a meaty DVD package fit for a cannibal.
Teen horniness is not a crime but Southland Tales is.
Like any effective polemic, Phil Donahue and Ellen Spiro’s documentary is almost as canny as it is facile in construction.
Pierre Salvadori’s re-imagining of Breakfast at Tiffany’s wears its contempt on its sleeve.
Because the film trades in vagueness, the actions of its characters can only be appraised in the most general of ways.
The flashes of life outside La Zona never deepen the story’s discourse, at times actually muddling it.
Wright’s Atonement insipidly rewards those who blush whenever they think about a lady’s jewels.
You can’t say that Jackie Reem Salloum keeps it as real as her subjects, but you also can’t say that the film isn’t good for one’s conscience.
Where other films suffocate audiences with exposition, Correction delights in providing none.
Excuse us while we wash down the film’s nasty aftertaste with some Broken English.
Honoré is committed to exploring winding avenues of contemporary romance.
The film hinges on indulgent exposition, leaden metaphor, painful grade-school symbolism and cliché characterization.
College Road Trip hurts more than just the eyes and ears, it wreaks havoc on one’s humane sensibilities.
Did Zak Penn’s The Grand, an improvisational comedy set in the world of poker, cast itself?
This is an unfortunately slim DVD package for the best Oscar top-dog since Million Dollar Baby.
Throughout, writer-director Antonio Negret only alludes to the seriousness of his volatile social setting.
While watching one of Haneke’s films, there’s always a sense that he thinks he’s above his characters, his audience, and scrutiny.
The film illuminates facets of its own self in only the most superficial ways.
The film begins as a dryly limp satire of corporate culture and ends as cruel and unusual punishment.
It moves so playfully and briskly you may not notice its glibness, which may have been director Daniele Luchetti’s intent.