Refn discusses his love of fairy tales, falling through the rabbit hole of streaming, and more.
Liongsgate’s plan to hose down Britain’s arid, post-Hammer horrorscape begins with the release of The Descent.
Andrucha Waddington is attuned to both the flowing passage of time and the charged silence between people.
Any film connoisseur worth their salt knows that the purveyors of this genre aimed low but shot high.
The film is less insanely intricate than Brian De Palma’s 1996 original and far less flamboyantly queer than John Woo’s 2001 sequel.
Alison Murray’s feature debut is an anti-cult cautionary tale.
Haneke’s admonishments are disturbing only in the sense that they’re never self-critical.
The filmmakers love Eva Mozes Kor, but not so much that their objectivity is clouded.
Nearly as much as Jerry Lewis, Albert Brooks’s comic persona is defined by its unlikability.
Michael Haneke could be cinema’s Debbie Downer, if only he had any sense of humor.
Benny’s Video is a smug, contemptuous, passive-aggressive attack on the dehumanizing effects of media.
Michael Haneke’s death-of-the-soul-of-Europe saga soldiers on with 71 Fragments of a Chronology of Chance.
The matter-of-fact filmmaking style is made up for by the vitality of the all-around fantastic performances.
The film is hard, direct, and honest, with no pretense of objectivity
Melvil Poupaud is a great crier but his character’s bratty attitude feels groundless.
The film has a healthy message to impart about standing up to evildoers.
An American Haunting takes the spurious “based on real events” claim to new extremes.
Carrière is very much his own auteur, suavely playful and elegantly subversive.
Film Forum has compiled a program of eight tales from the dark side where the giggles are as scarce as desert water.
The film is little more than a CBS Sunday night movie that peddles inspirational fairy-tale schmaltz and middling humor by the coffin-full.
The documentary only scratches the surface of its subjects, but it remains goodhearted and agreeable throughout.