Werner Herzog is an environmentalist in the purest sense of the term.
You Don’t Mess with the Zohan is, against all odds, Adam Sandler’s funniest effort in close to a decade.
Jan Schütte integrates three short stories by Isaac Bashevis Singer into an uneven meditation on aging, death and lust.
Sacha Gervasi’s documentary is propelled by bittersweet blood, sweat, and tears.
When Did You Last See Your Father? is a low-key Big Fish minus the whimsical fantasy.
Fast, fierce and bleakly funny, Stuck gets in and gets out with a minimum of fuss.
Writer-director Jerry Schram’s Insidious baffles from the get-go.
Equilibrium is a condition all too rarely achieved by the bloated Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull.
A Thousand Years of Good Prayers is so slender and unassuming that it registers only as a pleasantly forgettable triviality.
Bryan Bertino’s film is a white-knuckle thriller in which a couple going through relationship difficulties is terrorized by psychos.
You know a film is going to be the pits when the director blows his artistic load on darkening the colors of the Disney logo.
Andrew Adamson puts far less energy into moral dilemmas than into an unfunny talking mouse lamely reminiscent of the Shrek director’s Puss in Boots.
Yella hinges above all else on a climactic surprise, and a frail, trivializing one at that.
Quid Pro Quo is appealingly offbeat until its narrative takes a wayward detour into pat simplifications.
Director Bruce McDonald splits his screen eight ways to Sunday in The Tracey Fragments.
Watching Speed Racer is comparable to dousing one’s eyeballs in a sugary hyper-digitized Skittles soup.
Daddies, don’t let your daughters grow up to be babysitters, because according to this film, it’s a gateway to whoredom.
Uwe Boll tries his hand at political/cultural satire with Postal and comes up with something smelling awfully similar to feces.
Jon Favreau recognizes the necessity of entrancing larger-than-life personalities, but his CG-ified artistry prevents the film from trully soaring.
If the film is anything, it’s a gorgeous eyesore, and the image on the disc does justice to Schnabel’s over-direction.