Criterion’s Blu-ray provides a comprehensive window into Streisand’s creative process.
The film is content to peddle the naïve notion that love is the panacea for all that ails you.
One may wish that as the storyline pushes forward that it succumbed less to portentous melodrama.
The steadiness with which the film progresses through its dramatic beats is like its familiar-sounding indie pop.
The film devolves now and then into cartoonish cutesiness with its broadly drawn minor characters.
Melanie Lynskey makes the film feel like a believably worked-out, sympathetically presented study in thirtysomething uncertainty.
The Lucky One reduces everything to a thin, useless soup, even the idealistic virtues that it aims to promote.
The only pleasure one gets from What’s Your Number? comes from fantasizing about the film that exists in its shadows.
When not indulging in nostalgic flipbook-style flashbacks, James Keach shoots his material with sub-sitcom flatness.
Despite its title, Little Fockers barely features children. Other things it’s lacking include laughs, coherence, and a reason to exist.
The poignancy of The Lightkeepers is ultimately unintentional.
The fantasyland-set script has a habit of wrapping up serious situations through flippantly easy shortcuts.
As if Hollywood films needed any outside help to celebrate arrested narcissism, along comes The Last Kiss.
Who gets to call it art?
All that Robert De Niro accomplishes is accentuating the needlessness of this tired, redundant focker of a film.
Sylvia is a Lifetime bio-pic set in a BBC melodrama’s charcoal gray gloom and squalor.
An unfortunately lightweight DVD package for one of Allen’s greatest moments.
Woody Allen understands the emotionally fragile and confusing period after a breakup.