As a rambling rumination on turn-of-the-century aestheticism with brazen flourishes of apophenia, the documentary is strangely effective.
Descriptions of plot are likely to suggest a preachiness that isn’t at all present in the film’s rhythmic, heady form.
Somehow the film makes the concurrent careers of Godard and Truffaut seem like dead history rather than vibrant art.
Rather than inspiration or sensationalism, what we desire of Ken Loach are patient observations of class- and character-defining mannerisms.
The San Francisco International Film Festival is nothing if not facilitative of staunch personalization.
Like its predecessor, Lost in Rio prefers to teeter on the precipice of homage.
Anton Chekhov’s peculiar espirit can pose a formidable challenge to cinematic adapters.
While the inconclusive nature of Ghost Bird is powerfully tantalizing, we respectfully agree with the film’s implied thesis.
Though they’re a bit broad by today’s standards, Abbott and Costello routines are still required homework for nascent comedians.
The film is most entertaining when it allows its talking heads to dig into the social significance of their claim to stage fame.
The title character is something one doesn’t often see in film, independent or otherwise: a genuinely interesting middle-aged protagonist.
It Came from Kuchar fully admits to its subjects’ idiosyncrasies, both through interviews with the brothers and testimony from others.
Breaking Upwards is an obstreperous, half-serious celebration of dysfunction.
The film is an apt reminder that China’s strengths and Tibet’s weaknesses remain catastrophically and parasitically aligned.
We sense, in the languid, primeval pulp at the film’s center, dramatic inspiration both ecological and humanitarian.
Shutterbug is little more than a childishly incoherent, urban fairy tale.
I own more than two polo shirts, so I guess I’m not a beatnik. Darn.
Delta is both a starry-eyed paean to and a ham-fisted mangling of the inimitable aesthetics of fellow Hungarian countryman.
On Blu-ray, the vibrant seaside universe of Ponyo blows The Little Mermaid and Finding Nemo out of the water.
Harlem Aria is like a twentysomething’s funhouse of anachronistic mirrors.