Refn discusses his love of fairy tales, falling through the rabbit hole of streaming, and more.
Of Fathers and Sons’s front-facing depiction of unambiguous evil seems the most likely to draw voters less than moved by the mere existence of the Notorious R.B.G.
The documentary is uniquely attuned to the fickle whims of history, politics, and biographical circumstance.
After winning his second DGA award last night, there’s no reason to believe that Cuarón won’t complete the hat trick at the Oscars.
That Christian Bale packs it on and sheds it off with the change of seasons has become the essence of his thespian identity.
The film’s action boasts some of the most sturdy, coherent direction to mark a giant-scale blockbuster in some time.
Said I to my fellow Oscar prognosticator last week, “If Emily Blunt wins the SAG, then I don’t think we should sweat this.”
With its silvery sheen and sexy lure of celebrity actors being naughty, the film recalls the decadent, self-consciously chic art it parodies.
It’s the way the film’s humor specifically subverts its genre’s expected emotional valences that makes it so effective.
The film is content to paint Mexico as a morass of poverty, decay, and turbulence that exists in a moral void.
Lady Gaga has had this Oscar in her hands since the A Star Is Born trailer dropped and launched a hundred memes.
The film has a raw immediacy that can only be achieved when most cinematic excesses have been eliminated.
The film sidesteps all ambiguity, revealing everything about its characters straight away.
If Piercing is mildly disappointing, it’s because it doesn’t go far enough.
As an old sage one said: If dog feces lands in the pathway of a Ford Galaxie moving toward the camera in agonizing near-slow motion, will it be squashed under tire?
The deconstruction of corporatized play culture gets run through the sequelizer machine, with predictably acrid results.
The filmmaker discusses his relationship to art, the influence of Elia Kazan on his work, and consulting with Gerhard Richter.
Nuri Bilge Ceylan’s film takes a leisurely approach to narrative that’s both intensely dialogical and transfixingly visual.
Stephen McCallum’s relentlessly grim drama is completely lacking in wit and genre thrills.
Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck’s film prioritizes the sentimental over the true, the tidy moral over the messy reality.
Jonas Åkerlund’s film gives viewers two well-worn assassin narratives for the price of one.