The film never coheres in the ways its individual moments suggest it will.
The Japanese legal system comes under intense scrutiny in I Just Didn’t Do It.
Diary of the Dead gleefully engages with themes of spectatorship and subjectivity.
Motivations are constantly being re-examined in the film, though Ira Sachs never privileges one point of view over another.
The film is an eye-popping pageant parade masquerading as rapturous religious art.
Save for Silent Light’s bookend sequences, Reygadas works mainly in the implicative margins.
Argento’s triumph comes in fusing two schools of cinema-thought together, cranking the gore and monster quotient up to 11.
The Man From London is a multifaceted apotheosis.
Jean-Dominique Bauby’s story is one of struggle and perseverance.
Whether working as reporter or soldier, Fuller always had his hand in the arts.
Revelation takes many forms, and David Milch chooses a more subdued and implicative tack in closing out this chapter of the show’s narrative.
The varied impressions of a discordant society finally banding together are offset by a concomitant sense of purgatorial limbo.
That was most certainly the voice of the Creator taunting the fragile Barry Cunningham in the dilapidated barroom of the Snug Harbor Motel.
Like Coltrane’s cover of “My Favorite Things,” John from Cincinnati is an extended riff on things familiar, now made strange.
Aee after the break for links to the three articles (par moi) that are mentioned during the segment.
Thus far, David Milch and his cast have trod a fine line between the captivating and the repellent.
Completion does not necessarily mean forcing the end.
The final season of a television masterpiece. Bring on those movies, HBO!
My mistake. Four coffins for all previous video versions of these films.
The fences go up in the aftermath of the miracle that closed the second episode of John from Cincinnati.