Refn discusses his love of fairy tales, falling through the rabbit hole of streaming, and more.
For our information, Fernand Melgar’s Exit attempts to dispel misconceptions surrounding euthanasia.
The film is a slave to its director’s outsider-looking-in bias.
The film’s success is largely attributable to Sandra Hüller’s master class in acting.
Rage continues to spread like a virus throughout Japan (and now overseas to America) in The Grudge 2.
51 Birch Street’s compassion for generational divides is starling.
The Fox and the Hound has been consistently underrated, if not downright forgotten.
Billy Corben’s documentary Cocaine Cowboys is that rare film that truly warrants the designation “guilty pleasure.”
Rosenbaum continues to write long-form pieces during a time when most professional critics are increasingly marginalized.
The film is a fitting tribute to one of the century’s most public-spirited and large-hearted intellectuals.
The film isn’t as graphic as the hellish worlds of Schindler’s List and Saving Private Ryan, but Steven Spielberg doesn’t sugarcoat the horrors of war.
Its out-there excessiveness eventually conveys not the resilience of youthful imaginations but, rather, the limits of unchecked auteurism.
Tahani Rached’s documentary These Girls exudes empathy and respect for its destitute Egyptian teenage subjects’ plight.
The film’s cozy depiction of the rustic South lacks the visual panache that might have elevated the tale above the mundane.
Makoto Sato’s exploratory film creates a profound sense of worldly displacement, true to the nomadic sensibilities of its titular subject.
The Bridge never earns its parallel to Pieter Brueghel’s “Landscape with the Fall of Icarus.”
It proceeds with a sober clarity that lends credence to its devastating case.
There’s nothing about the film that’s quite as fantastic as its depiction of the moribund SNL as culturally and politically relevant.
Exiled is a flabbergasting spectacle of kaleidoscopic violence that abstractly appraises codes of masculine honor.
Though less histrionic than 21 Grams, Babel rests on the laurels of wafer-thin approximations of real people.
Robert Altman’s disgruntled comedy only seems a relatively straightforward buddy film.