The Japanese auteur’s latest shows nothing more clearly than its untapped potential.
Moss discusses the ways in which Frankenstein informs the film’s thematic exploration.
This year’s festival was the site of more than a few alternately jarring and fruitful clashes.
The film understands how atrocity is perpetuated, fanning a maddening sense of injustice.
The demon here serves as a perfect metaphor for the film’s frustratingly nebulous qualities.
The film views its main character’s life as one of Christ-like endurance.
The film is a gripping portrait of a woman who can’t shake her addiction to deception.
Alberdi discusses the construction of a narrative arc of a couple’s journey through illness.
The title is accurate insofar as the film struggles to exert an emotional pull.
André Øvredal’s film is largely devoid of any palpable atmosphere or tension.
The film is a liberal fantasy stuck in the 2016 vision of the future from which it sprung.
Thomas Hardiman’s film is ultimately unwilling to give into supreme superficiality.
The history of Winter Kills is nearly as lurid and tangled as the conspiracy it depicts.
The film’s repetitiveness is conceptual, embodying Chilean cinema’s most prominent motif.
Even when the film becomes something like a thriller, it never loses sight of its political themes.
In the end, Love Life feels like a pale imitation of one of Fukada’s more grandiose melodramas.
These films show us utopias, dystopias, distant planets, and our own Earth destroyed.
These are our favorite horror films currently streaming on Netflix.
Larry Fessenden’s film is a work of fascinatingly conflicted, far-reaching curiosity.
Meg 2 is well served by deliriously dialing up the camp factor.
The film goes to show that humanism and absurdism are often two expressions of the same face.