These films are generous reminders that cinema isn’t always about diagnosing global problems.
Here are 10 fragments from White’s writing that I’ve wanted to frame and hang on a wall.
It’s not a demanding proposition, but after The Golden Compass, Alvin and the Chipmunks feels like rocket science.
Only at the end does Juno actually work as a film and not merely as an acting/writing showcase.
Broken English is the best American independent film I’ve seen all year.
It starts with an overture and ends with a quip.
The film is like an ocean: vast and deep, for sure, but also internally turbulent, its tides ebbing and flowing, constantly lapping against its barely-there borders.
The first African American ensemble comedy for the Christmas season. Really?
The Unknown Woman begins the same way director Giuseppe Tornatore’s last film, Malena, operated throughout: by ogling a fine female form.
Paul Schrader blends lethargic self-referentiality with anemic political jabs in The Walker.
At the very least, Adam Rifkin has some fun with his voyeuristic peeping-tom scenario.
Without unpredictability or the possibility of an unhappy ending, how can a film truly inspire?
Despite the fact that its style comes off as somewhat schizophrenic, Undoing is a film of remarkably direct emotions.
This video history gets its juice from a love-hate affair with the vibe of a graying boho remake of The Sunshine Boys.
As they say, the proof is in the pudding, and Taxi to the Dark Side has plenty of it.
Long Day’s Journey Into Night began my own long journey into Stockwell’s entire career.
With his latest, Raymond De Felitta makes amends for 2005’s intolerable The Thing About My Folks.
Steep provides a skin-deep history lesson on extreme skiing.
The film gets some mileage out of mocking fatuous biopic conventions.
It delivers its metaphors with just enough grace to offset the fact that its titular animal seems hopelessly out of place in a kid’s film.
Humanity gets a fairer shake in The Violin than in Bruno Dumont’s Flanders.