Lynn Shelton crafts a film of astonishingly sustained mood, tying its beguiling atmosphere to the mental states of her characters.
Of all the feature films in Pixar’s impressive repertoire, Finding Nemo has arguably proven the most durable.
Praises the electric carelessness of teenage angst while depicting it as if it were ultimately no more exciting, though no less pleasant, than an hour in the wave pool.
The Oranges is a wasteful study of the white and privileged with their neck hair standing on end.
Currently appearing in Josh Radnor’s Liberal Arts, Janney is the actorly equivalent of jumper cables.
It’s not Tolstoy, but it’ll do.
Finding Nemo drops the audience into the Spielbergian vise-grip of pleasure-torture right from the word go.
A film that barely saw the light of day, on a Blu-ray that almost didn’t happen, with an extended cut that fans thought they’d never see.
Brian Dannelly’s Struck by Lightning makes an inadvertent but hugely compelling pro-bullying argument.
Cruel circumstance and greed are at least partly responsible for the ultimate lack of quality control here.
A little more than table scraps, including the usual deleted scenes and making-of featurette.
This is a film that’s more interested in the emotions its characters’ seem subordinate to.
The Help is almost always more successful relating black experience than either white brutality or magnanimity.
A wonderful, must-own transfer by the Criterion Collection of one of last year’s best films.
As with Palindromes, the film revolves around a casting gimmick, with its predecessor’s roles now embodied by all new performers.
Sam Mendes makes movies that feel like department store displays, which makes Away We Go something of a surprise.
Change, or the struggle to make change fit into the established system, is Lee’s most familiar chord. He struck it loudest in The Ice Storm.
And Lee and film editor Tim Squyres tie the film together in the masterful, interwoven tension of the night of the storm.
Juno has a fumbling start and an affecting delivery.
Adam Shankman keeps everything rolling, which is really saying something in this age of ground-to-a-halt musical turkeys.