The magnificent transfer further deepens the emotional resonance of Leni’s strange, transfixing, and compassionate film.
No one is okay with the Academy Awards the way they are, and everyone seems sure that they know how to fix them.
The industry’s existential crisis has polluted this race so thoroughly that it feels eerily similar to the 2016 election cycle all over again.
This season, Hollywood is invested in celebrating the films they love while dodging the cultural bullets coming at them from every angle.
If it were biologically possible to do so, both Ed and I would happily switch places with A Quiet Place’s Emily Blunt.
Sigh, can we just edit this whole Oscar season from our memories?
Throwing questions of artistic merit out the window, opponents of a Rami Malek win have dutifully cast doubt on his ideological purity.
Year in, year out, Oscar voters have tended to judge this category in favor of the film that least makes them feel embarrassed to support.
Going into this year’s nominations, cinephiles wished for three composers to make the cut in this category.
Mahershala Ali, still fresh off his prior win in this category, performs utter miracles with the role of jazz pianist Dr. Don Shirley.
By the end of Period. End of Sentence., woman after woman muses that she’s actually the stronger sex, and who in the Academy would dare argue otherwise?
Of Fathers and Sons’s front-facing depiction of unambiguous evil seems the most likely to draw voters less than moved by the mere existence of the Notorious R.B.G.
That Christian Bale packs it on and sheds it off with the change of seasons has become the essence of his thespian identity.
Lady Gaga has had this Oscar in her hands since the A Star Is Born trailer dropped and launched a hundred memes.
Brian De Palma’s showy Vertigo tribute gets a significant A/V upgrade from Shout! Factory.
How has Oscar royally screwed things up this year? Let us count the ways.
Honestly, it’s nearly a matter of life or death whether true cinephiles add this disc to their home libraries.
This buckaroo of a disc does not blow it on the image and sound front at least.
Skyscraper is little more than a faster-higher-stronger amalgamation of Die Hard and The Towering Inferno.
Criterion releasing it during Pride Month proves that their sense of humor is just as sick as that of John Waters and Divine.