The Japanese auteur’s latest shows nothing more clearly than its untapped potential.
As if Igby Goes Down wasn’t enough, here’s more cruel behavior disguised as boldness.
Nick Broomfield reveals an ironic manifestation of institutionalized slavery that ties a black-owned record label with a white-empowered police force.
The film is tedious and overblown even at a surprisingly short two hours.
Just as strong then as the Hermitage’s smell of antiquity is the possibility of liberation.
Rules of Attraction is less a film than a queasy collection of vignettes that both mourn and mock teen anomie.
Everyone’s shit hits the fan on cue and the film never really recovers from the rote sitcom wind-down, Goldie Hawn’s lively spirit and nasty potty mouth makes it all easier to swallow.
The film’s ultra-realism echoes Welcome to Sarajevo, except Paul Greengrass wrings more naturalistic performances from his actors.
Patricio Guzmán’s distance from the material is mostly admirable.
Past the Road to Perdition lies City by the Sea, Michael Caton-Jones’s equally rote tale of father-son friction.
Godfrey Reggio and Philip Glass put on an intoxicating show.
See Dover Koshashvili’s devastating Late Marriage for a superior variation of the same theme.
Cedric the Entertainer weasels himself into the lead role with very mixed (mostly negative) results.
Jacques Tourneur’s use of sound may be every bit as phenomenal across his films as his shadowplay.
Karen Moncrieff has an uncanny way of tapping into the private hells of her characters.
Miyazaki reimagines Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland as an Asian folk dream in his latest gem.
Fight Club meets “Big Brother” in the punchy German export Das Experiment.
It figures that the sex scene from Don’t Look Now has become more legendary than the film itself.
Sims anyone?
Buñuel both ushers the lovers into a romantic afterlife and fabulously ponders both Ricardo and Eduardo’s inability to distinguish between human beings and things.
What a curious thing it is to listen to a man read from the pages of Rebecca Miller’s female-empowering Personal Velocity.