Tension becomes Caitlin Cronenberg’s film. The release of it, not so much.
If White Noise is to be believed, then TV’s psychic medium John Edward is no longer needed.
Writer-director Paul Weitz warms over the cold truth of corporate globalization by giving it a puppy-cute face,
There’s something about the film’s godly lead character that reeks of arrogance.
Unlike Faulkner’s Light in August, the film’s structure is less intricately maze-like and the stakes never feel too high.
Though it skimps on historical details, Andrés Wood’s wonderful Machuca is nonetheless alive with contemporary resonance.
All that Robert De Niro accomplishes is accentuating the needlessness of this tired, redundant focker of a film.
Ari Kirschenbaum’s groovy direction ensures that Fabled is good for one spin.
To echo one character’s sentiment: This is a film with “no emotions, no feelings.”
Fat Albert begins promisingly, but looks can be deceiving.
The animated sequences represent merely the most questionable formal tactic of a deeply cagey and secretive film.
Imaginary Heroes is a queer-eyed valentine to Sigourney Weaver.
In this extreme year, nothing was quite as outlandish as Team America’s showstopping scene of hardcore marionette sex.
Flight of the Phoenix is remarkably loyal to the Robert Aldrich’s 1965 action yarn of the same name, if only in plot.
In its own low-down deportment, The Cameraman is really a raucous, more accessible iteration of Man with a Movie Camera.
Wong Kar-wai means to depress Mr. Chow, but he bums out his audience in the process.
The film is a pleasantly episodic and surprisingly sinister account of a deranged lunatic trying to kill three orphans.
Oh, those wacky white folks!
Count on Wes Anderson’s visual and verbal witticisms and presence of Murray to guide us through the rougher waters of the film.
Million Dollar Baby is another act of faith from Clint Eastwood.
The closest kin to Gianni Amelio’s heartbreaking The Keys to the House may be Patrice Chéreau’s Son Frère.