The filmmakers are thankfully willing to render, with unremitting vigor, how grief can batter the human heart.
The house-car is a metaphor for Michel Gondry’s desire to make something a little more outside his wheelhouse.
Filmmaker Michel Gondry bungles his adaptation of the Boris Vian novel by indulging in homespun craftwork at the expense of plot and character detail.
Cédric Klapisch’s film becomes an effervescent variation on the time-honored story of striking out for the American dream.
Don’t let her pixie-ish presence fool you; Audrey Tautou, star of Claude Miller’s Thérèse, has quite the wild streak.
Claude Miller’s swan song not only shares its main character’s name but also her tempered disposition.
Now that Zooey Deschanel has taken a detour into TV land, is Audrey Tautou the most insufferable pixy presence in cinema today?
The drab stateliness of Coco Before Chanel is in keeping with the un-ornate threads popularized by its subject.
Pierre Salvadori’s re-imagining of Breakfast at Tiffany’s wears its contempt on its sleeve.
Another distasteful Ron Howard production impeccably preserved on DVD.
Ron Howard’s adaptation of Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code is a marriage made in mediocrity.
Cédric Klapisch’s shallow stylistic ticks preclude identifiable emotional or behavioral reality.
The image is gorgeous, the sound is astonishing, and the supplemental materials are solid.
The film leaves the enduring impression that carnival barker Jean-Pierre Jeunet has run out of new ideas.
The film is a ludicrous, insecure psychological thriller that purports to give a human face to Britain’s invisible underclass.
In the end, the pointlessness of this exercise is surpassed only by its rank misogyny.
On the small screen, Amélie is somehow easier to swallow, but her whimsy is no less poisonous.
Smug and self-infatuated, it’s definitely something to chew on…just bring a barf bag.
The film is naïvely entranced by those incidents in life that are perhaps not worth thinking about.