Though Visconti operates on the surface level of the material, he crafts a seductive surface.
The road-movie format is as central to Carlos Diegues’s Bye Bye Brazil as it is to Wim Wenders’s Kings of the Road
Alfred Hitchcock and and screenwriter John Michael Hayes validate their thesis with plenty of spectacle to be voyeuristic over.
Charlie Bartlett is basically Richie Rich Slings Dope.
Lady Chatterley, as it’s titled, is little more than a summa cum laude graduate of the Merchant-Ivory school of Classics Illustrated.
Sometimes extreme physical beauty grows more complex, more satisfying with age.
Politics come and go. Dictators rise and fall. But the circus is eternal.
Dahl casts his actors firmly in type, but doesn’t let them get away with simply rummaging through their trick bags.
Godliness, so The Air I Breathe finally tells us, is all about the Benjamins.
Where God Left His Shoes is supposed to be gritty, realistic, and relentless.
Bruno Dumont offers another spare existentialist portrait of modern man, once again insisting we are animals driven by primal hungers.
Had Lucky You reached theaters two years ago, Curtis Hanson would have been accused of shamelessly jumping on the celebrity-poker bandwagon.
A show queen couldn’t possibly do any better for the Broadway beat than Dori Berinstein’s breezy, affectionate valentine to the Great White Way.
Like everything else about Brooklyn Rules, Alec Baldwin’s alternately calm and brutal tough guy isn’t close to original.
Gardener of Eden has grisly fun with American vigilante mythos while paying deliriously strange, loving homage to Taxi Driver.
The film is an epic, intuitive exploration of Edith Piaf’s hard life and times.
It seems like it’s heading toward all-out camp for a while, but it goes in a weirder direction as Anthony Perkins’s character takes over.
This is a vehicle for Vivien Leigh from the moment we first see her cat-like face through a train door window.
An animated rendering of its characters is virtually the only thing preventing Dirty Dancing from being a crappy Disney romance.
From the start, Two in One evinces a playful and personal obsession with the dialectics of cinema and theater.
The plot of this lovely movie, my favorite I have seen so far in the Tribeca Film Festival, is basically a soap opera, a Tehran-set version of Desperate Housewives.