The details in The Dropout are strikingly unembellished, but it’s the perspective-shifting storytelling that brims with imagination.
Ultimately, the film’s most impactful terrors have nothing to do with things that go bump in the night.
Mank’s most haunting sequences are self-contained arias in which characters grapple with their powerlessness.
David Koepp is a fatally un-obsessive craftsman, one who’s fashioned a horror film that resembles a tasteful coffee table book.
The film peddles the simplistic anthropomorphization that’s become a hackneyed trope in numerous Hollywood dog-centric movies.
The Mamma Mia! sequel’s flaws are overridden by infectious moments that, to take a cue from ABBA, you couldn’t escape if you wanted to.
The film is, even by Paul Schrader’s standards, a bleak endeavor, concerned with the durability of spirituality.
Gringo’s circuitous narrative never allows for a character or storyline to develop in a particularly efficient way.
Though it pretends to stick up for all the schmucks in the world, the film is really just laughing along with the assholes.
The cinematic touchstone throughout Schrader’s First Reformed is the Danish director Carl Theodor Dreyer.
The episode divides its time between domestic drama, overarching mythology, and seriocomic pop surrealism.
As of the latest episode of Twin Peaks: The Return suggests, the darkness seems to be winning.
We might expect it to end on the performance, as each episode has until now, but Lynch throws us a curveball.
Harriet’s transformation isn’t significant enough to justify her complete redemption in the eyes of those around her.
The film’s weird reformulation of the Electra complex is nothing short of a sexist fantasy of salvation.
Sloppy and haphazard where it should be calculatedly chaotic, it can’t ever seem to settle on an appropriate tone.
Joe Wright’s film could fuel an entire series of incredulous episodes of the How Did This Get Made? podcast.
The film is a redundant showcase for Seth MacFarlane’s racy, dick-centric sense of humor.
Baumbach lobs jokes a Sturgesian velocity, but much of this cross-generational comedy is frantic and wearisomely superficial.
Throughout, Seth MacFarlane’s whiny point-scoring feels like an explicit appeal for audience sympathy.