Whenever Ryan Gosling and Emily Blunt aren’t on screen together, the movie magic dissipates.
Jean-Stéphane Sauvaire’s Asphalt City is less a film than a guttersnipe’s wallow.
The film flits uncertainly between telegraphing seriousness and seeking refuge in camp.
The filmmaker discusses his approach to depicting the present day as a historical moment.
The film is seemingly afraid to do anything too extreme with the toys at its disposal.
The comparison to Christopher Nolan’s breakout doesn’t do Adam Cooper’s film any favors.
A highlight of this year’s festival was the focus on the work of Basma Al-Sharif.
The film is a sensitive, dewy-eyed romance about two adults in the process of becoming.
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The further things go off the rails, the more the film revels in its retro special effects.
This list is part cathartic exorcism and part sheepish capitulation to the role the Oscars have played in our lives.
The film knows that there’s no way of reversing historical trauma, only surviving in its wake.
Med Hondo’s film is a bravura spectacle of intellectual and cinematic daring.
Civil War is intelligent precision filmmaking trained on an impossible subject.
The film is a 105-minute, unchallenged preaching session on the virtues of minstrelsy.
The film reduces the arc of Chisholm’s life to inspirational movie clichés.
The film contains some of the gnarliest violence this subgenre of horror has seen in years.
Y2K is ultimately less than the sum of its retro-styled parts.
Though efficiently directed, the film is too concerned with keeping its main character likeable.
Adlon’s film spins the corporeal realities of pregnancy into heartfelt comic gold.
This un-nice remake takes the business end of a broken beer bottle to the soul of the original.
The film does Nicholas Winton a disservice by reducing his heroics to the stuff of facts.