Refn discusses his love of fairy tales, falling through the rabbit hole of streaming, and more.
For now, here’s to blind hope.
We know you all wait with bated breath for the next time that we gather in bars and shout indiscriminate things at each other.
Even the film’s most melodic passages are tinged with the feeling of a world vanishing as it is remembered.
You know the drill: No guild is better at predicting the winner of the Best Picture Oscar than the Directors Guild of America.
Has any other actress made such an impact on screen by purveying nearly nothing but abrasive bad temper?
Like Nixon said, when Harvey Milk stabs Dan White in the back and all but blackmails George Moscone, it’s not illegal.
It is only underneath, beneath the striking visual effects and Gumpian narrative, that Fincher himself is revealed.
There are two ways to spin this category.
For the first time, Slant has decided to tackle nomination predictions in the screenplay categories. Why, you ask?
The noise that Oscar pundits make throughout the year feels as influential to this rat race as the awards handed out by critics.
The film functions more like an intellectualized primer than an actual terrifying experience.
My Bloody Valentine 3D is mildly proficient as far as throwbacks go.
The film’s argument is almost entirely based on the emotional resonance that its straight-laced reportage evokes, which is effectively zilch.
Cristian Nemescu’s California Dreamin’ plays out with an impressive singularity of purpose.
Call it a showdown between the two wannabes.
Five films into his career, Zhang has emerged as a modern incarnation of the recently deceased Xie Jin.
There isn’t a malicious bone in the Thor Freudenthal film’s body.
It’ll be a close one, but we say: En Ra Ha!
The tale told by Ballerina has as little room for failure as the instructors and theater directors it depicts.