Though it begins by spending far too much time talking up the comic’s quality, it gradually finds a groove as an incisive portrait of an insecure industry.
Jo-Anne McArthur’s cause draws sharp comparisons with the never-mentioned PETA, a seemingly insignificant omission that discloses a lingering problem of willful insularity.
Felix Van Groeningen’s film owes more than a debt to the unwieldy narrative schematics of Susanne Bier’s narratives.
The film still gets under the skin after 40 years, and, a lack of new extras notwithstanding, Warner Home Video celebrates the stalwart horror landmark’s anniversary with an impressive package.
The doc is dressed to the nines in pomp and patriotism, which seems meant to hide the fact that the film offers very little in the way of valuable reporting or insider information.
James Franco’s readiness in approaching famously abstract source material certainly doesn’t translate well into his directorial formalism, or, more appropriately, lack of formalism.
While the real-time aesthetic approach sporadically enthralls, it also reveals the narrow worldview that burdens the film.
Suggests a version of Roberto Rossellini’s Voyage to Italy reworked as a photo diary posted on Facebook.
Not just the infinite depths of space, but the black void of death is the darkness du jour in J.J. Abrams’s bracingly revisionist melodramedy, the journey heightened by a crisp and exhilarating transfer.
The granddaddy of all slasher films, Mario Bava’s brilliant and deceptive giallo arrives via an invaluable transfer from Kino.
The film’s title may not apply to any one of its characters, but this 1080p transfer is one sexy…ahem, well, you get it.
Step into a beautiful world of dreams where the past and present freely mingle, with the mischievous Raúl Ruiz as your guide for the last time.
Cinema Guild’s sterling transfer of Ben Rivers’s brilliant feature debut may not ease your fear of the end of days, but it will get you closer to nature.
It confuses nostalgia for earth-shaking cultural upheaval, never really expounding on the actual effect of the Borscht Belt circuit’s influence.
It occasionally succumbs to the pitfalls of the mock-thriller kitsch it slyly dismantles, but it’s made up for in a wry visual style that satirically paints a vibrant crime fantasia.
Nina Davenport doesn’t seem interested in taming her unwieldy vanity, and thus her documentary reads as a Match.com profile recontextualized as cinema narcissismo.
Eluding theatrics, the doc presents a deeper investigation into the U.S. drug war with research as exhaustive as the list of negatives to describe the conflict.
A prismatic meditation on an entire nation, Eliav Lilti’s documentary is history as abstraction.
Never mind the shit-talking canary, At Long Last Love is the top; critically reviled upon release and ripe for reappraisal, the film’s title may (hopefully) prove sweetly prophetic.
We’re never far away from a crude digression demoting an ethereal sense of artistry to hunkered-down artifice.