As Steve’s grandmother would say: Be oblong and have your knees removed.
On his 35th studio album, Bob Dylan declaims in the old, epic mode.
The documentary examines how a cluster of residents in the Crescent City’s Ninth Ward survived Katrina with little outside assistance.
At both its best and its worst, the album is essentially inoffensive.
Man on a Swing is ripe for rediscovery by Twin Peaks and Lalo Schrifin fans alike.
As much as you might suffer watching Mailer’s films, you can always take comfort in the fact that he suffered more while making them.
Shirley Clarke’s portraiture eschews cohesive biography and often spirals off into lyrical dissonance.
McCarey’s sociopolitical hysterectomy finally hits home video in a Blu-ray that appears downright ashamed of its contents.
The film pits irresponsible passion and outer destruction against stultifying “maturity” and inner destruction.
Disappointing audiences who expect a French riff on Dracula for nearly 100 years.
Election Special makes one wish that Ry Cooder had passed both his mic and his guitar back to his brain.
True Wolf is best read as an auto-portrait of a passionate community.
Force of Evil shows how a middling movie can still be an exemplary noir.
Meet the Fokkens is an unusual and welcome polemic.
Wing Beat Fantastic: Songs Written by Mike Keneally and Andy Partridge adds up to a nutty musical koan.
A working-class hero is something to be in Jean Grémillon’s films from the 1940s.
Abendland offers an austere index of the wide-ranging uses of after-hours technology.
All of the extras are recycled from the DVD, so there’s some standard-definition content that’s suffered upscaling.
Though essentially a “first world problems” farce, Annakin’s period racing comedy is built with enough love to resist crashing.
Though a lousy introduction to the late master of spontaneous memoir, Gray’s Anatomy is still more fun than getting an eye exam.