Hud is a mournful lament for a passing of a way of life and a meditation on the ways forward.
To quote Julia Roberts’s character in the film, Charlie Wilson’s War is liberal…but not where it counts.
If the film is anything, it’s a gorgeous eyesore, and the image on the disc does justice to Schnabel’s over-direction.
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.
The HBO series may have orgies on its side, but Mann’s underappreciated epic goes deeper and darker into the fall of Rome.
For a few more dollars, couldn’t Janus have packaged them together and clinched the deal for penny-saving soccer moms?
Zombie fans: run, don’t walk! Well, maybe just move briskly.
Tough, lean and spare, The Fall of the Roman Empire was an epic swords and sandals picture coming fast on the heels of Ben-Hur and Cleopatra.
If Godzilla was a manifestation of Cold War paranoia, the Cloverield monster is a reflection of the chic nihilism that is the J.J. Abrams brand.
Uno, dos, tres, throw this shamelessly derivative and inhumane freak show in the trash-no matter how intensely its image and sound may deceive.
Méliès’s world may be marked by an atmosphere of wondrous possibility, but it’s also reflective of a perpetual frustration.
The neglected standing of Blast of Silence is the film’s own best proof of its uniquely wallflowerish take on film noir tropes.
It’s difficult to see the real brilliance of the Bay Area film scene through this self-congratulatory Fog.
A collector’s edition that, on the basis of its skimpy extras, gives 2007’s best film the shaft.
Check out Miss Miller riding down the freeway of Alzheimer’s in her pink Cadillac.
We still await the definitive DVD release of Lost Highway, a film crying out for rediscovery.
See the Baron dance with Venus! See a man outrun a speeding bullet!
If it doesn’t seem to carry the heft expected of a film of its standing, the pillowy lips of its two leads make up the difference.
Standard costume fare enlivened by Bette Davis’s fuming and growling.
Ultimately disappointing, but Bette Davis gives Mary Poppins a run for her money.