It purports to be an incisive character study dramatized through outré “dream logic,” but Sharon Greytak’s ineptitude at this very Lynchian aesthetic sucks all nuance and spirit out of the film.
Pegi Vail beautifully edited film somehow addresses a lot, but ultimately says little.
The perfect wind-down to summer arrives in this superlative Blu-ray presentation of Cuarón’s liberating and caustic film.
The film’s offbeat aesthetic largely flaunts for appeal, suffocating character and thematic ambition underneath its flashiness.
Throughout After, the filmmakers crank the trials of the film’s Valentino family up to 11, sans irony or subversion.
It offers a realistic portrayal of Momo’s emotional state, but this comes at the expense of a deeper exploration into both the story’s lush supernatural landscape and its inhabitants.
In its visionary dream and flashback sequences, Ignacio Ferreras’s film becomes a comment on the rapidly diminished state of traditional animation.
A well-intentioned story of an impoverished father searching for his missing child is muddled by an ambitious sociological agenda in Richie Mehta’s film.
The film has an atmosphere of endless experimentation, which compliments the constant revision the subjects apply to their lives in the wake of their economic insecurity.
Like their earlier Trouble the Water, the filmmakers portray men and women yearning for a simple place in society as they become casualties to the self-involvement of larger forces.
The unbalanced appraisal of Vidal’s life and work in Nicholas Wrathall’s documentary diminishes the effect of the writer’s engaging dissension of American political policy.
Emilio Aragón’s film is a star vehicle in the strictest sense.
Even though the subtext about the past and modernity constantly being at odds is intriguing, the director presents this in a clunky, almost didactic fashion.
As the film is focused solely through the lens of the titular characters’ cameras, this limits the exploration of the story’s worldview outside of Hank and Asha’s perspective.
The material and resources are certainly substantial, but the filmmakers clumsily weave separate stories together without detailing anything beyond a tangential relation.
Daniel Patrick Carbone’s pensive style is interested in revealing a world in flux, but his fixation on death is so incessant that it situates the film as a morose fetish object.
The anxieties and excitement over starting anew is put in a cringe-inducing spotlight in Lloyd’s mesmerizing film.
The new picture quality makes George Washington, Green’s first and best film, look as if it came directly from myth.
It borders on parody as it tries to portray its hero as martyrdom-bound genius, which makes the film feel as if it was made by Franco’s vain, art-fetishizing character from This Is the End.
Mouton presents a French coastal town as a fully realized universe that feels as if it lives beyond the confines of the screen.