Judging by the guest list attached to Malice, Snoop’s celebrating a lot of unbirthdays these days.
Brown spends most of Graffiti wondering why the rest of us haven’t simply moved on when there’s a new party up in here.
All or Nothing is stuck in the missionary position.
In short, Rihanna don’t feel much like dancing no more. Leave that sort of soft shoe to the defense.
What may have in some hands come off as a remarkable display of versatility only reinforces Chris Carrabba’s limitations as a songwriter.
Tongue’s paradox is that the more Dizzee and his collaborators don’t work, the more the album does.
Not my cup of tea. I don’t even like tea.
Like so many Merchant-Ivory films, Howards End is a luxurious frame without a picture.
This Is It is, in spite of all efforts made by Sony and their team of embalmers to obfuscate it, a genuinely haunted document.
From the East is the perfect way to ride that fine line between watching a movie and dazing with it.
The film’s form overshadows its debt to reportage as most would understand the term.
Maybe we have to accept that Disney doesn’t trust Blu-ray enough as a format to simply release the high-definition discs alone.
Snow White fails to transcend its insipid characters, kitschy setting, and abysmal pacing.
The decade that began with more than a few bangers ends with a whimper for Basement Jaxx.
Speaking of things that are too hard to hold on to, Celebration’s other major deviation from the Immaculate template is primarily structural.
For better or worse, it stands testament to the fact that at least one segment of the counterculture had no place for women.
M*A*S*H is a good dint lower than its reputation.
Prejudice? No! Ignorance? No! Bigotry? No! Illiteracy? A tad.
Whether you view them aesthetically or archaeologically, the films in Gaumont Treasures show a significant portion of cinema’s formation.
Own Jeanne Dielman if you must. Just don’t fall asleep on her bed.