Bernstein’s gifts as a storyteller are less narrative than atmospheric.
Would people want to watch this story if it didn’t try to pull the rug out from under them every three minutes?
At age 72, Robert Duvall has pretty much earned the right to do whatever the hell he wants.
On the Hollywood thriller Richter scale, Phone Booth doesn’t mess around.
It’s unclear what universe Head of State actually takes place in.
If Marxist dramas about the unemployed are your cup of tea, then Mondays in the Sun will surely quench your thirst.
Levity might be touring the art-house circuit, but Jon Turteltaub would be well-advised to watch his back.
The big battle this year will be between singing murderesses, suicidal lesbians, and a Holocaust survivor.
The incompetent Buffalo Soldiers should have been left out on the range.
As a randy film about sexy people in gorgeous places being pushed and pulled by desire, it makes for an arousing good time.
Dreamcatcher, unlike the creature beneath Jason Lee’s posterior, never really escapes the toilet.
As its contradictory title suggests, Autumn Spring is about a simultaneous end and beginning.
The overall effect is not unlike watching tumbleweed roll across the screen.
Stevie is a depressing account of the ways in which violence perpetuates more violence.
Robert Zemeckis’s live-action/cartoon feature is both enduring and endearing.
Comparisons between The Sixth Sense and minimalist fright flick The Eye will be inevitable.
The filmmakers lovingly evoke how memories can reunite us with those that we have lost.
It distressingly finds close-ups of the players’ legs, chests, and behinds indispensable to the story’s empowerment rallying cry.
John Cassavetes transforms Gena Rowlands into his own little Pam Grier.
The Hunted is muscular and lean at a well-paced and barely indulgent 90 minutes.
The rats are both frightening and strangely endearing, not unlike Crispin Glover’s performance.