The film is as much a relevant view of adolescence and male/female relations as it is an act of remembrance.
In American Psycho, there is an exit—it’s just called the future.
Despite a suspenseful jolt or two, this cornball Hitchcock riff is anything but subtle.
Galoup is merely a rotten byproduct of a dehumanizing military apparatus, but by film’s end he finally learns to let out some steam.
The Whip and the Body is at once frightening and hysterical, a gothic rendition of a D.H. Lawrence tale.
Its secrets unravel via a series of carefully calibrated compositions that become not unlike virtual gateways into Freudian pasts.
The overall effect is like opening a present on Christmas morning.
Released at the pinnacle of his prolific Mexican period, Él remains one of Luis Buñuel’s crowning achievements.
Its brilliance emanates equally from its structure, the acuteness of its gaze, and Edward Yang’s acknowledgement of life as a series of alternately humdrum and catastrophic occurrences.
Get this: in Memento, Christopher Nolan tells his story backward!
This is Kenneth Lonergan’s trip down a familiar road where lives will forever be emotionally and inextricably bound.
To think that there are people in America will take the film’s rank sentimentality as an act of humanitarianism.
The Shooting pays obvious homage to the classic westerns of John Ford and Howard Hawks.
Woody Allen has grown up a lot since Take the Money and Run and it shows.
The ending is a bit pat, though the film’s simple truths about the nature of family and friendship will give young children something to chew on.
The whole of the film is less than the sum of its parts, but the parts are often breathtakingly shot.