The film proceeds for a spell as a study of the surfaces of glamour, and an alluring one at that.
This is the Paul Haggis version of National Lampoon’s Vacation, though a whole lot less amusing than that description might imply.
Though based on a video game series, Hitman plays like a music video without the music.
Stanley Kubrick’s aesthetic provides a necessary distancing device between the spectator and the acts of horror depicted throughout.
The film is a radical distillation of its source novel’s densely stuffed ghosts-and-gore imagery.
In its constant and irreversible violence, Full Metal Jacket, one of Kubrick’s grittiest works, is also one of his most resonant.
Misunderstood as a psychosexual thriller, the film is actually more of an acidic comedy about how Tom Cruise fails to get laid.
Who are we, where do we come from, and where are we going?
The Year My Parents Went on Vacation is yet another in a long line of coming-of-age tales set against the backdrop of political turmoil.
Crónica de una Fuga plays like a feature-length (and un-funny) version of the Beastie Boys’s “Sabotage” video.
Susan Hayward’s intense physical commitment to the reenactment of her character’s random ordeal is something to behold.
The film is a collage of Herculean feats of technical wizardry that would be easy to dismiss if it wasn’t so humane.
Ronald Bronstein’s Frownland is a film whose synopsis screams, “Avoid at all costs.”
The Coens’ narrations often hint at, but rarely confirm, the existence of deliberate, supernatural forces.
Joe Wright overlooks the class divisions that haunt the nooks and crannies of McEwan’s novel.
Righteousness has rarely been conveyed on screen with such shrillness.
It’s necessary to rescue the Frank Capra film from its status as an untouchable American “classic.”
Life’s a mess of oft-funny tragedies but Park comes closer to apathy than empathy with its intended laughs.
As with so much of Disney’s female-centric fantasies, the energetic film eventually peddles the same old ass-backward messages.
August Rush’s devotion to following through on its screwy internal logic is almost genius.
The film may draw the wrath of activists who monitor crimes against comedy.