Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett’s horror comedy is sharp in more ways than one.
In the basic rhythms of its story, Out of Darkness plays out like a Predator movie.
The Monk and the Gun Review: A Humane Satire About the Freedoms and Pitfalls of Democracy
The Monk and The Gun draws plenty of humor from a collision of attitudes and ideas.
Manning Walker discusses what different audiences have made of the film’s ambiguities.
The film’s storytelling structure befits the female experience in American politics.
Even when it’s painting its story in broad strokes, the film plays expertly to audience emotion.
The film takes on a justice system unequipped to prosecute those who commit sex crimes.
What makes IFFR so endearing is an atmosphere that’s joyful and devoid of self-importance.
One of the film’s great strengths is how confidently it lets details speak for themselves.
The film’s lack of charm prevents it from transcending the thinness of its high-concept premise.
The film’s humor is a clenched-fist assault on runaway greed and systemic corruption.
The film meanders its way toward its goal with a maddening lack of focus and narrative thrust.
The film lucidly shows how a coming of age can be thrust upon a person against their will.
There’s considerable emotional truth on display throughout Benjamin Ree’s documentary.
The film takes the world’s addiction to self-actualization to one of its darkest implications.
The film is fatally convinced that it has a subversive relationship to genre.
The film brims with a vitality that’s in lockstep with the titular trio’s work and ethos.
A wealth of contrasting stimulation gives the film a singular and intimate atmosphere.
The film is an insightful look at modern discontent and the pandemonium that it breeds.
Bertrand Mandico’s film is the cinematic equivalent of a French Symbolist poem.
Alex Schaad’s film traffics in body ambivalence more than body horror.