There’s an enigmatic quality to the role of Nolan in the current filmmaking landscape.
The film surprises by revealing deeper layers to both its subjects and social commentary.
Much of the film is spent in this space of vulnerability we could call the feminine position.
Many of the actors occasionally elevate the film above some of the more clichéd family humor.
Carmen leans into the physicality of its actors and the stirring strings of Nicholas Britell’s score.
Paravel and Castaing-Taylor discuss how gut instincts guide their editing process.
The previously announced Killers of the Flower Moon will screen out of competition.
The film frustratingly shrouds Cage’s manic intensity in thick blankets of winking irony.
The film traces, to cosmic and absurd ends, how tragedy is birthed by, well, birth itself.
Talk to Me consistently operates as a suggestive mood piece.
The film seems to confuse the mere act of deconstruction with grandiose thinking.
With Suzume, Shinkai Makoto reaffirms his auteurist bona fides.
Already evident in Passion is Hamaguchi’s peerless sense of how people perform for others.
Sick of Myself’s tunnel vision feels like a failure of nerve.
The film uncovers the paradox that trash needs little commentary.
Pierre Foldes’s film ultimately fails to create any clear identity of its own.
Goldhaber and Barer discuss their hopes for how audiences will respond to the film’s radicalism.
Kelly Reichardt conceives of the scale needed to make and enjoy meaningful art.
The film feels like it’s content to check off to-do notes and scratch the viewer’s nostalgia itch.
The film doesn’t have a clear opinion on its main subject and the scourge of misogyny in media.
Country Gold never loses its grip on the interior lives to its characters.