Refn discusses his love of fairy tales, falling through the rabbit hole of streaming, and more.
The film is uninterested in developing one of these characters beyond a near-silent abstraction.
El Tiante’s narrative is a ready-made tearjerker.
It’s unlikely that Reeves could have made Witchfinder General without first learning from the mistakes of She-Beast.
Il Divo is a ballet on steroids, downright militaristic in its precision.
Still Walking is a family drama that gets the family dynamic exactly right.
The Soloist is a crude fiasco that trivializes the very values it allegedly enshrines.
The film delivers an intriguing message about mental illness as we understand it to manifest itself within us.
The film is a hysterical male victimhood nightmare in the Fatal Attraction mold.
The film’s authentic bouts of fisticuffs mildly counterbalance the incessant clichés and dreadful dialogue.
Joe Wright is prone to frustrating tendencies that are ascendant in The Soloist.
The whole thing is well-filmed, competently paced, and generally praiseworthy.
Il Divo treats the scandal that brought down Italian Prime Minister Giulio Andreotti with acerbic bemusement.
Béla Fleck, jazz/bluegrass banjo player, embarks on an African adventure in Sascha Paladino’s documentary.
Disneynature’s Earth demands to be seen on the biggest screen possible.
Empty Nest more than repays our indulgence.
Though it largely coasts on shots of kids being adorable and parents behaving badly, the film occasionally proves illuminating.
James Toback’s new film banks on the intrinsic fascination inspired by his central figure.
Barker’s adaptation of his novella touched upon the pleasure of pain, but also the pain of sex.
It’s probably a stretch to surmise that, just as the first film’s subtext dealt with health fears, the sequel mines its dread from the horror of malpractice.
Today, the film registers as the callous post-WWII flipside to Casablanca.