Refn discusses his love of fairy tales, falling through the rabbit hole of streaming, and more.
B13’s lead characters aren’t as deeply moved as those postmodern resistance fighters but their allegiance has a political edge.
Jean-Pierre Jeunet and Marc Caro stuff themselves with all their favorite obsessions and the result is both unfunny and very unappetizing.
Wilder’s movies are full of greedy characters out for themselves no matter what the cost.
Anyone who equates Dominic Harari and Teresa Pelegri’s Only Human with the cinema of Pedro Almodóvar is either blind or racist.
Shooting a film about Cuba in black and white is risky.
The film is as shallow as a toilet bowl and twice as rank as its usual contents.
Ron Howard’s adaptation of Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code is a marriage made in mediocrity.
Just My Luck’s throwback quickly goes from chintzy to rotten.
Like Intimate Stories, one could say that the film’s message is the oldest one in the world: all you need is love.
Shem is condescending about sex and ostensibly reverential to faith.
Chaw rages against the Hollywood machine’s depictions of class, gender and race, puncturing political correctness.
The film is almost without a point but so unassuming that it earns consideration.
The film timidly lands on an underdeveloped middle ground between skewering and embracing mass-market consumerism.
It’s not the obsession with Freud that’s the problem with Rudolph Maté’s 1948 noir The Dark Past.
Will the show be renewed? Will Forsyth be blamed for the murder? Stay tuned!
Goodness gets very little breathing room in André De Toth’s arresting Crime Wave.
Stuart Heisler’s Among the Living is a poor man’s gene-splice of Fury and Frankenstein.
Is it some kind of joke that I Was a Communist for the F.B.I. was nominated for a documentary Oscar?
Woman on the Run is a film with a crisp noir crust and a gummy melodramatic center.
All three of these films are banal put-ons.