This adaptation of Donald E. Westlake’s 1963 novel is the epitome of hard-boiled.
It’s amazing how much male pigs are attracted to Sly Stallone.
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.
A low-budget success in capturing the flesh, and some of the soul, of O’Connor’s twisted salvation fable.
With added scope but little to justify its bloated heft, MST3K is the show’s own Manos: The Hands of Fate.
In the kennel of gay films, Shelter is a puppy dog: It’s cute but it lacks bite.
Romero gives his original masterpiece a modern-day reboot and scores a comeback after the dismal Land of the Dead.
Did you know that fucking is the best way to resist totalitarianism?
An anorexic premise could’ve been a great and unusual disaster film if only Twister had taken the courage to keep everything pared down.
Annie’s “Tomorrow” never sounded so optimistic.
A heartfelt but unsuccessful film that could have been much better with a more variegated point of view.
This is Jeanne Moreau at her “If it feels good, do it” best.
Pierrot le Fou, of course, abounds in a wide variety of artistic references.
We can’t really look at Jean-Luc Godard’s Breathless with fresh eyes, any more than we can see Citizen Kane or Sunrise for the first time.
The menu buttons are shaped like sombreros. I trust I needn’t say more.
Ozu made a lot of films in the ’30s, many of which are silent, some of which are lost, and these early films are seldom screened.
If the film is anything, it’s a gorgeous eyesore, and the image on the disc does justice to Schnabel’s over-direction.
The New York Ripper took all the fun out of New York City’s photogenic death throes.
To quote Julia Roberts’s character in the film, Charlie Wilson’s War is liberal…but not where it counts.
An academic but intriguing critique from a filmmaker who should be remembered for more than just being Javier Bardem’s uncle.
Lamorisse’s film is a lovely and troubling evocation of childhood fantasies.