Not quite a space odyssey, but a peerless planetarium show.
The split persona at the center of the film hews intriguingly close to the personal foibles of star John Barrymore.
A stolid horror drama, but a beguiling showcase for John Barrymore.
Like his previous Duck Season, Fernando Eimbcke’s Lake Tahoe is a comedy about stasis.
Landon Van Soest’s documentary is often bleakly resigned to the limits of resistance.
Enervated and uselessly ugly, Surveillance does manage to create its own disturbing, alternate world.
A coolly elegant kineticist, Kathryn Bigelow specializes in impressionistic phallus jostles.
A lovely ode to women, sexuality, creativity, and New York City.
Crude is both a tribute to human-rights tenacity and a sobering account of the multinational-Moloch greed that can keep justice in limbo.
Has the collective growl in the belly of a world in crisis finally made it to movie theaters?
It’s a small but telling detail that Imamura entered the Japanese film industry as a clapper boy in Yasujirô Ozu productions.
The Skeptic awkwardly suggests Poltergeist as a 12-step self-help program.
Nagisa Oshima just can’t win. After getting in trouble for being too pornographic, he was chastised for not being pornographic enough.
The less explicit of Oshima’s art-house scandals, Empire of Passion is a provocative, Eros-and-Thanatos assault in its own right.
A limited but revealing look at Peter Bogdanovich’s remembrances of cinematic things past.
The overbearing Lifelines is a service not worth dialing.
The picture signaled a welcome return to the settings and themes of Rossellini’s neorealist origins after years of baffling experiments.
Overrated when first released and underrated since, Rossellini’s trenchant tale of redemption is ripe for rediscovery.
François Truffaut posits theatricality as wartime solidarity and resistance in his late-career hit The Last Metro.
Criterion’s very handsome transfer does wonders for the film’s gentle, practically caressing lighting and deep reds and browns.