Everything’s not cool.
It’s easy to imagine a much warmer film experience had director Ben Niles focused entirely on the private lives and dreams of the technicians.
Sadly, the horror genre gets no respect, and Hostel: Part II is not the type of film to change that.
Anatoly’s crisis never feels resolved, simply dissolving into the gauzy ether of the film’s Orthodox pageantry.
Man in the Chair is more exorcism than resuscitation.
Honeydripper is more hopeful than Sunshine State but possibly more naïve.
If there is finally a point to the film it is that we’re all human piñatas.
Meeting Resistance raises all sorts of ethical questions about its making.
The Life of Reilly is the funniest and most poignant documentary of the year.
The actors bring authenticity to what is otherwise a hysterical, Dynasty-style vision of Cuban-American experience.
DarkBlueAlmostBlack is an anemic, schematic, and impersonal meditation on family ties.
The film proudly flaunts its maker’s right to make movies as badly as Bart Freundlich, Peyton Reed, and Woody Allen.
Though good for a few laughs, the one-note Teeth is just another trite rape-revenge fantasy.
Though lighter on her feet than Jacques Rivette, Valeria Bruni-Tedeschi does not recognize the abstract in the real.
An inconsequential dramatization of a consequential event, Robert Sarkies’s film suggests a Folgers Crystals commercial with a body count.
The movie is “more than meets the eye”: an elaborate advert for the U.S. military. “Be all that you can be” would have been more honest.
Asia Argento gives Catherine Breillat’s latest its pulse.
José Luis Guerín’s sensualist delight is an immaculate expression of the thrill of the hunt.
It’s futile to harp on the smugness of Noah Baumbach’s characters when Noah Baumbach’s writing is the problem.
The way Elizabeth: The Golden Age tells it, the Spanish Armada’s defeat by the British Empire was the orgasm The Virgin Queen never had.