Stranger Cat’s In the Wilderness is an impressively well-formed debut.
Its content to drft through the intricacies of group mechanics via an expressive free-form structure.
It affects an air of artistically inclined realism, but it’s mostly concerned with building tension via an accumulation of flatly conceived misery.
David Zellner’s film settles firmly into the perspective of a lost soul who finds solace in the swaddling security of fantasy.
Befitting the improved production values and larger expected audience, the songs are bigger and brasher than the ones on his prior albums.
Kristian Levring’s film achieves nothing more than hollow caricature.
Deacon’s albums work off the same junky rec-room orchestration, with low- and high-culture elements all reduced to mere building blocks.
Throughout, Dylan balances out any hints of winking self-awareness by freighting his new compositions with a heavy air of wistful sadness
The film is a patient exploration of the relationship between the personal and the professional.
B4.DA.$$ never tries to be more than an apprentice work, working up an articulate introduction for a serious-minded new talent.
Michael Mann’s camera elegantly collapses the spaces between bodies and objects without sacrificing spatial coherence.
The drably mundane is glossed up with pictoral elegance, borrowing from the early avant-garde’s fascination with industrial automation.
The Pinkprint is a nakedly introspective work that reduces Minaj’s formerly freewheeling aesthetic to its bare components.
Ceylan’s gift is to make interesting stories out of locating small eddies of change in the midst of eternally fixed dynamics.
The Wu-Tang Clan struggles to present a unified front on what’s purportedly the clan’s last official album.
Seeds stands on its own as a collection of lively, well-curated music, one that remains routinely effective despite its basic approach.
Unfocused and sporadically brilliant, ranging between irritating moments of woolgathering oddness and ripe, sharply delivered wordplay.
Sion Sono imagines a world in which static adherence to old ideas leads directly to doom.
Soused adds new dimensions to Scott Walker’s oppressively gloomy rococo mood music.
The film itself is a lumbering tank of a movie, chunky, loud, and clumsy, mulching down men into meat as proof of its dramatic seriousness and gloomy worldview.