Blade II is gooey and dank, yet del Toro recognizes the allure of the original’s techno pulse.
Raimi’s film still feels like the punchiest horror flick this side of a Dario Argento giallo.
It demonstrates director Claire Denis’s signature obsession with the human body, cultural rifts and the permissions of sex.
Arguably Lynch’s most literal-minded creation, the film is also his most scatterbrained.
Marcel Carné‘s France, unlike the fiddle-dee-dee of Victor Fleming’s cotton pickin’ South, is a poetic realist’s wonderland.
Not since Magnolia has a film been so drunk on celebrity dick as 40 Days and 40 Nights.
Like Slackers, Super Troopers, and last year’s Wet Hot American Summer, Van Wilder brings to mind the gross-out yarns of yesteryear.
Dario Argento’s fascination with the subconscious reaches a ridiculous low here.