The Right Stuff’s tarnished reputation can only benefit from Warner’s sparkling new two-disc special edition.
A day or two in the lives of some of the most annoying people in the world, filmed with equally devil-may-care obnoxiousness.
One would think it a curse to have to transform a theme park attraction into a summer cinematic spectacle.
Once upon a time in the far off land of Syracuse, Jim Boeheim led the Orangemen to the NCAA basketball championship.
Everyone gets screwed in the end, and hoping for anything better is the refuge of the foolish and naïve.
There’s an assured poise to Hulk, a surprising trait to find in a film about an unwieldy green goliath with a penchant for decimating everything in sight.
Here, visual inventiveness and narrative incoherence combine to form a result that’s both entrancing and sleep-inducing.
Scott Roberts builds his off-kilter caper with spare parts from every crime film made by the Tarantinos and Guy Richies of the world.
If the film’s visual splendor lacks profundity, Costner does provide a handful of transcendent moments.
In the spirit of the great Sioux tradition, I dub Kevin Costner “Directorial One-Hit Wonder.”
This unabashedly meaningless affair wholeheartedly subscribes to the more-is-better recipe for cinematic second installments
Those interested in learning about the delightful home of Osama bin Laden would be well served checking out Kandahar.
The film shows that, long before Sexy Beast, Ben Kingsley had already proved himself adept at playing psychotic madmen.
The film confronts a litany of moral conundrums regarding guilt, revenge, punishment, justice, and man’s responsibility to himself and society.
The Hunt for Red October is a thrilling edge-of-your-seat trifle that has admirably withstood the test of time.
Free of Harrison Ford’s noble-beyond-belief portrayal of Jack Ryan, The Hunt for Red October remains the best Tom Clancy adaptation to date.
The lifeless finale has about as much imagination as a Mini has trunk space.
Identity is very pleased with its supposedly clever but completely nonsensical ending.
Malibu’s Most Wanted is not, I repeat NOT, the single worst film ever committed to celluloid.
The film preemptively negates any challenges to its pessimistic worldview as fundamentally unimportant.