Steve McQueen is interested in using Hunger to silently document the daily intricacies of committing a crime.
Clark Gregg is in way over his head.
Filmmakers need to stop viewing audiences in linear terms, to start widening the net, embracing an umbrella approach, thinking in the language of prisms so peasants and kings get fed together.
Recently, a fairly innocuous comment posted to my scathing review of Traitor at The House Next Door made my blood boil.
Sometimes doing what you think is the right thing just ain’t good enough.
The following interview is definitive proof that sometimes it does indeed pay to dream.
In Celebration most definitely chafes at being made into a film.
Though we discussed everything from spirituality to positive con artistry, the subject of living in Chelsea with an albino skunk never came up.
Trumbo is a poignant, mind-stirring documentary about the defiantly prolific screenwriter Dalton Trumbo.
Letter to Anna is a call to others to complete the investigation into Anna Politkovskaya’s death.
The “good” news comes with the final words on the screen.
The film explores, through a very personal lens, the sordid tale of the slave trade in the pious American north.
Never handheld, the stationary camera also deftly captures the poetry of monotony.
The film is a labor of love over 20 years in the making.
Think Salman Rushdie with a picture deal instead of a fatwa.
The film ends in an ambiguity as absolute as our own war in Iraq.
That Nina Davenport wants to draw parallels to her own situation is the very definition of presumptuousness.
Nick Broomfield is so focused on the desert he can’t see through the sand.
Guy Maddin’s thrilling, ingenious My Winnipeg is a love letter to the Canadian director’s hometown.
Rosa von Praunheim’s 1971 PG-chaste first feature has aged like good cheese from a scandalous sensation.