Ahmed Ahmed exhibits no interest in expanding his ideas into a serious sociological inquiry.
Modesty is a virtue for this tale of an annual Thanksgiving touch-football game that exploits concision to its considerable benefit.
Stateliness begets inertia in Empire of Silver, a Chinese epic whose reserved tone and regal atmosphere is suffocating.
The Hangover Part II is something like the contents of a fraternity house’s toilet the morning after an insane kegger.
It’s so similar to Queen to Play that one half-suspects that the two films’ directors shared notes before going into production.
It’s fitting that The Tree of Life finds Terrence Malick finally returning to the beginning, travelling back, back, back to the dawn of everything.
L.A. Noire isn’t about exploration or combat, both of which seem to have been included more as tacked-on concessions to hardcore gamers than integral components of the larger story.
In the way it unimaginatively regurgitates familiar genre elements in service of preachy piousness, Scott Charles Stewart’s cinema is the equivalent of Christian rock.
Dax Shepard delivers an I’m Still Here-style mockumentary of staggering incompetence with Brother’s Justice.
It deftly navigates the ins and outs of platonic-pal sentimentality while reveling in the sublime pleasures of gross-out nastiness.
The High Cost of Living is yet another example of the high cost (for moviegoers) of lowered production barriers for aspiring filmmakers.
Everything Must Go is the cinematic incarnation of the color beige.
Cluelessness is characteristic of this latest assembly-line rom com.
Hobo with a Shotgun offers up grindhouse gristle and wit that puts Machete to shame.
With shrewd wit, John Michael McDonagh’s script proceeds to self-reflexively address the very conventions it’s employing.
Class envy leads to Funny Games-ish home invasion in In Their Skin.
Director Mateo Gil’s Blackthorn is a film that ultimately has no guts.
Fast Five and I have something in common: We both have no use for the first four Fast and the Furious films.
The only real lesson learned here is that, regardless of nationality, domestic sitcom pap is a universal language.
The film is a work of communion, and not only between the present and the past.