The film is too blinded by manufactured sentimentality to see the more compelling what-if scenario lying right in front of its eyes.
The film is a ghost story as well as a story of transference, which Pedro Almodóvar understands to be one in the same.
Ridley Scott’s medieval saga insightfully revels in the complexities of its competing storylines.
Luzzu retains the structure of a neorealist film, as well as its themes of class and desperation.
Jessica Kingdon’s maintenance of her critical and often ironizing perspective keeps Ascension from tipping into polemic.
Aside from being a thrilling account of a hair-raising rescue, the documentary attests to living a calling.
The film feels like a missed opportunity to interrogate society’s fervent need to make pariahs out of people for their youthful mistakes.
The film’s performances evocatively attest to how people struggle to withhold the agony of their true feelings.
For too much of its running time, Hit the Road is untethered from any kind of captivating narrative purpose.
Though eerie and quietly deadpan, the film circles its grab bag of themes for so long that it also becomes tedious.
The ‘80s haunted this year’s Polish Film Festival, which is billed by its organizers as one of the oldest film events in Europe.
Julia Ducournau discusses her approach to filming bodies and her reimagining of foundational texts to build a modern mythology.
The title is an assurance that the most action-packed sequences will be defined by loudness, incoherence, and pointless cruelty.
Iván Zulueta seems keenly aware of both the agonies and the ecstasies inherent in the pursuit of pure rapture.
Cary Joji Fukunaga’s film inadvertently confirms that Bond is best when the simpler, more savage pleasures prevail.
The film circles a thorny premise, which makes it all the more disappointing that it results in a conventional clinch.
There’s a haunting beauty to Tatiana Huezo’s depiction of the gradual cross-contamination of childhood innocence and criminal aggression.
With Theater of Blood, Vincent Price was allowed to become an unexpected ringmaster of a kind of kitchen-sink Grand Guignol.
What’s absent here is the murderous lust for power that dovetails with Macbeth and Lady Macbeth’s lust for each other.
Swamy Rotolo’s face is rife with the ambiguities that the film’s narrative lacks once it pivots into thriller mode.