Netflix will release the series on May 31.
The film plays like a mixtape of various sensibilities, partly beholden to the self-contained form of the bildungsroman.
Perhaps as notable as what made the cut is what didn’t make it onto the lineup.
As evangelistic as I tend to get about making new discoveries at TCMFF, the familiar can also be revelatory.
Willem Baptist’s film is a free-form essay on the spiritual differences between analog and digital.
The audacity of the film’s assertion of a queer African identity shouldn’t be overlooked.
Even after the film (quite entertainingly) explains itself, it never feels like more than a howl of frustration and cynicism.
Nia DaCosta indulges one of rural quasi-thriller’s most tiresome gambits: humorlessness as a mark of high seriousness.
The documentary shrewdly illustrates how media savvy can turn a fledgling protest into an international cause célèbre.
The Chinese filmmaker himself appears not to suffer any pressure to separate the experience of the film from his own visual ideas.
Then and now, the best examples of this genre continue to evoke humanity’s eternal fear of social disruption.
Its most amusing moments are in the interplay between the central characters as they adjust to an abruptly shifting reality.
The trailer for the photorealistic remake of the 1994 film is hellbent on proving that you can indeed step in the same river twice.
By the end, Cervantes’s heroes are at last free to move beyond representative confinement and finally speak freely as equals.
As it moves through Jesus’s greatest hits, the narrative focuses less and less on Mary Magdalene until her life is beside the point.
Forget Dog Day Afternoon, as the film doesn’t even clear the bar set by F. Gary Gray’s tense and exciting The Negotiator.
The director and actor discuss how the film’s main character progressed from Denis’s imagination to Pattinson’s realization.
Its playful tone is a corrective to a century of scholarship that insisted on projecting the image of a moody spinster onto the poet.