TCMFF continues to valiantly pursue the preservation of Hollywood film history.
The classes collide in director Mikio Naruse’s silent melodrama Street Without End.
Even at a relatively brief 64 minutes, it feels as if Three Sisters explores a lifetime of heartache and tragedy.
This is a rare breed of reality-based fiction: It tells you it’s “based on a true story” and you may actually believe it.
This “based on a true rumor” story about the real-life basis for Charles Webb’s novel and Mike Nichols’s The Graduate is a rhythm-less, laugh-less mess.
Otto Preminger accentuates not only the brutality but also the desperate emotional impact of his story’s bursts of sudden violence.
Lajos Koltai condemns German and Jewish indifference to the horrors of the Holocaust using an intriguing narrative structure.
The Cinderella of the anti-Bush documentary brigade, Eugene Jarecki’s Why We Fight arrives late to the administration-critiquing ball.
Dirty is clumsier and less earnest than Crash, but it’s every bit as totalitarian.
Cheaper by the Dozen 2 is far more concerned with pat platitudes than it is with sex.
The White Countess is an unceremonious denouement for the erudite Merchant Ivory label.
Not surprising for a film that trades in child’s-lit insight and character arching, Tsotsi sheepishly keeps its social realism at arm’s length.
For Peter Berlin, art was the strangest thing: a studied pose of personal expression and sexual abstinence.
The film is a quirky ode to romance and a showbizer’s life on the road.
The sociological and emotional heft of The New World is encased in a swirl of hallucinatory images.
Social commentary mingles with stupid comedy in Fun with Dick and Jane, a flaccid, humorless update of the 1977 George Segal-Jane Fonda romp.
The film stands as a mildly fascinating project to restore Sabina Spielrein to her rightful historical station.
Hunter Richards’s London has the makings of a great gay porn.
La Petite Jérusalem transplants the Arab-Israeli conflict to a concrete housing neighborhood in France.
Throughout, Tommy Lee Jones carries Pete’s weight of grief but without betraying the character’s emotional impenetrability or slack conscience.
Socio-politically-minded Big Idea films were all the rage in 2005.