Eddie Alcazar’s film is a purposefully inscrutable, wandering, disconnected, symbolic, and highly precious mood bath.
In pushing so many seemingly crucial moments off screen, the film transforms its main characters into blank slates.
After a while it seems like one needs to be in some kind of dream state in order to properly savor the film.
Zwick uses a popular artistic mode to stake out a moral and political stance that, if not radical, is at least forceful.
The filmmakers are interested in world building only as a pretext for maintaining a tone of non-contemplative ennui.
The film goes down easy because it saves the self-improvement clichés for the homestretch.
Anne Hathaway and Rebel Wilson admirably take a lot of big swings, but they rarely pay off.
Harron’s background as a journalist and critic was apparent as we discussed her latest film.
The teaser seems hell-bent on satisfying those who found the first film to be an over-directed succession of freakouts.
The film appears to be striving for humanistic understanding, but the end result is far too jumbled to have the proper impact.
Almudena Carracedo and Robert Bahar’s documentary is monumental for its clamorous sounding of an alarm.
At the very least, Ryan Reynolds’s casting perfectly splits the difference between the adorable and the absurd.
Diversity is undoubtedly one of the strengths of the festival’s curation, as exemplified by films by Jodie Mack, Zhang Yang, and Jan Bonny.
The film seeks to elevate genre clichés by slowing down the speed with which they’re typically offered.
The film’s relatively static approach to narrative works in scenes where the material is funny or elevated by a certain performance.
The film is often quite moving in spite of its evasions, suggesting a real-life Charlotte’s Web.
It’s an unfussy, intimate chamber drama that’s fearless in confronting the attitudes of its exalted subject.
Miles Joris-Peyrafitte’s film ultimately succumbs to melodramatic clichés and simplistic political demagoguery.
The film preaches of the love of creative freedom, yet finds no original form of expression of its own.
Throughout, the film peddles notions of self-realization and self-actualization that feel nothing short of moth-eaten.