The film unobtrusively answers many of the questions that occur to most of us if we try to imagine life off the grid.
The chemistry between Pacino and his cast mates gives this lightly amusing contrivance surprising emotional resonance.
Manglehorn is too talky by half, especially when two or even three scenes are superimposed on one another.
True to its title, Marielle Heller’s adaptation of Phoebe Gloeckner’s novel has the loosely structured, unfiltered feel of a young person’s diary.
Robert Kenner’s doc delivers the implicit message that we’re all capable of figuring out what’s in our species’ and our planet’s best interests.
Like its predecessor, John Madden’s film is a charming example of what great actors can do with mediocre material.
The filmmakers sometimes hammer home their message about the messiness of human behavior a little too hard.
The film leaves one with the impression of a badly used young beauty condemned to make her own way through the world while longing for love.
The courtroom’s cramped, near-featureless air of bureaucratic stagnation becomes oppressive even for the audience.
As is often the case in films like this, Seventh Son is at its weakest when it tries to leaven its brink-of-disaster gravity with a little nerdy humor.
The Daniel Barnz film interestingly insists on the audience judging its main character, which places us in a potentially uneasy position.
For Ruben Östlund, a movie camera is an instrument of provocation and exploration.
Empowerment porn for those who long for the Cold War’s clarity of purpose and American dominance in this murky age of terror.
Its staged more like a drama than a standard sitcom, but its deft dissection of American network TV makes it one of the funniest shows on television.
We spoke with Burton about what Big Eyes has to say about the suburban American dream of the Cold War era.
If The Tree of Life was a contemplation of the verities of life, this film is an hour spent scrolling through a stranger’s family album.
The documentary is hesitant to show the great work that resulted from Hayao Miyazaki’s “grand hobby,” never including clips from the classics referred to throughout.
Getting On is farce with a heart, shot through with unlikely moments of grace and warmed by an aura of bemused acceptance.
It’s mercifully free of the ruin-porn shots that turn so many contemporary films about struggling cities into self-consciously arty exercises in the romanticization of decay.
The soft colors, graceful movements, and clean lines together embody the ineffable beauty of life on Earth that is one of the film’s main themes.