The flippancy toward thematic concerns and character construction suggests that the film was largely built from used parts.
Mark Jackson’s direction strips much of the agency from any character’s grasp by insisting that their dilemmas can only be revealed with stone-faced austerity.
The film exhibits strong character interplay and resides in an unconventional milieu, in effect turning rote material into something that feels decidedly eccentric.
Gavin Hood relays a vague sense of what it’s like to live in duty, and yet at a distance from one’s home, but this vision of the future never rouses, never asks to be remembered.
The film’s title may not apply to any one of its characters, but this 1080p transfer is one sexy…ahem, well, you get it.
Understanding Screenwriting #112: Before Midnight, Iron Man 3, Stories We Tell, Mad Men, & More
People who saw the film wondered if they met up again. So did the filmmakers.
Director Shane Black here replaces his once-acidic spite for government and bureaucracy with a call for corporate responsibility.
Spielberg’s film arrives on Blu-ray with a fantastic A/V transfer and a modest helping of contextual extras.
This is a rogues gallery that runs the gamut from clingy patient to schizo serviceman.
Richard Trank’s film is conventional to the point of dullness, filching from the Ken Burns playbook.
The Dictator doesn’t so much stir hot-button issues as showcase a great satirist off his game.
A disappointing slog from the artist formerly known as Martin Scorsese gets a predictably perfect high-def standing ovation.
Seven finalists remain in the race for Best Makeup, the category that’s poised to prove just how strong a frontrunner The Artist actually is.
This season presents two Oscar contenders, Hugo and The Artist, that both bask in the dreaminess of cinema’s early days.
Martin Scorsese’s affection for cinema is, of course, no surprise, and Hugo doesn’t shy away from stumping for the cause of his Film Foundation.
Its Blu-ray debut should remind audiences why this fascinating fairy tale remains Spielberg’s most audacious, ambiguous, and menacing film.
The organic decay of the filmed faces create a subtle parallel with the rotting art that, were it not for Igor Savitsky, would have never been seen.
It’s a pretty good B movie, but it would have been a better one if it hadn’t tried to be more.
The film flounders in its sixth-century desert setting like one of its fallen, bleeding warriors.
Martin Scorsese’s film walks a fine line between institutional thriller and what-is-reality inquest.