Both images emit a roaring, pompous confidence in their lead candidates.
If the Footloose remake had its own signature dance, it’d be called the Push-Pull.
If ever there were a Brad Pitt performance worthy of awards talk, surely it’s the actor’s turn in the unexpectedly sophisticated Moneyball.
Joel Schumacher ravages his film so persistently, it’s only right that it ends with a shot of the mansion up in flames.
There’s minimalism, and then there’s a picture of a rumpled bed.
It’s hard to discuss the Oscar chances of the cast without thinking of all four fuming co-leads as being yet more hamsters on the Academy’s wheel.
For a movie hellbent on marketing itself as the seedy tale of a small-town tramp, Dirty Girl sure has an odd way of making good on its promise.
So as not to simply give the poster a snarky brush-off, it’s worth noting what it’s able to accomplish, however unwittingly.
Jonathan Levine’s film could use a lot more affliction and a lot less cure.
Odds are John Singleton doesn’t know he’s made one of the funniest films of the year.
If Kate’s character-friendly surname caught your eyes, keep rolling them.
30 Minutes or Less is a proudly stupid action comedy that’s awfully lethargic for all its slam-bang propulsion.
It’s not like critics weren’t given plenty of ammo.
Sometimes a good first impression is indelible enough that even the worst subsequent sins can go ignored.
The game of tracking an auteur’s muse takes on distinct dimensions when considering the work of Gregg Araki.