Jean-Stéphane Sauvaire’s Asphalt City is less a film than a guttersnipe’s wallow.
The narrative is interpolated with talking-heads commentary on mostly unilluminating subjects, making this 77-minute trifle feel hours longer.
The film is little more than a camp primer for the Huggies Pull-Ups crowd.
If, according to the film, everyone has their hands on India, Gurinder Chandra similarly has her hands on the American box office.
Some films are ripped from the headlines, others are ripped from the pages of Cosmopolitan.
The film is a riveting mix of taking-head interviews, archival footage, and musical performance pieces.
Fritz Lang’s methos in a nutshell: Pose a question, then answer it, though never in any sort of predictable rhythm.
Damien O'Donnell plays just about everything for laughs, managing a brutal moment or two amid the non-stop spectacle of comic uplift.
The film conveys a chilling vision of rats being slowly flushed down a toilet.
Travellers and Magicians is the story of a dream within a story.
Saying Alone in the Dark is better than House of the Dead is akin to praising syphilis for not being HIV.
Hide and Seek is as nuts as Dakota Fanning.
Catherine Breillat stares down the utter arbitrariness of carnal disgust with Anatomy of Hell.
The film’s grungy mix of old-school and new-school aesthetic modes is ripe with poetic textures.
Since complaining about Oscar’s short-sightedness and asking for them to change their ways is as futile as asking for a recount in Ohio, let’s get this show on the road.
It’s a measure of how far hip-hop has come that Ice Cube now headlines Are We There Yet?.
The film is a blizzard of personal reminisces and internal epiphanies amid obvious touchstones.
With its focus on faith, the generous and captivating In Your Hands sets itself apart from other Dogma films.
Few films pay this close and considerate attention to the physical and emotional heartache of growing old and every frame of Schultze Gets the Blues is alive with this generosity.
Kore-eda Hirokazu’s wonderful new film is a meditation on the solace, comfort, and rapture of familial togetherness.
Siegrid Alnoy’s She’s One of Us asks us to take a woman’s ennui at face value. Literally.