Iggy Azalea and Charli XCX pay homage to Amy Hecklering’s ’90s cult classic Clueless.
Paramount’s highly admirable transfer of Clueless makes a renewed claim for the film’s place in the canon.
This film and I have a minor history.
The disc’s extras are, umm, featherweight, but the film remains darling.
Happy Feet is a film of uncanny political resonance.
Remember when Brittany Murphy said she would never tell in Don’t Say a Word?
There’s little respite from the bargain-bin cheesiness of The Groomsmen.
Fans of the film may want to save their allowance money and wait for the inevitable two-disc edition.
If Sin City’s construction is wholly self-aware, its deliberately affected performances wisely forgo winks to their own outlandishness.
Little Black Book is proof positive that the path to hell is paved with good intentions.
On this disc, edge enhancement is scarce, colors are vibrant, and skin tones and contrast are excellent.
Camp value: High.
A day or two in the lives of some of the most annoying people in the world, filmed with equally devil-may-care obnoxiousness.
The film has absolutely no pulse, kind of like this review.
The lack of narrative sobriety and the director’s shallow stylistic copycatting are the film’s ultimate undoing.
This is The Eminem Show, told by Eminem for the Eminem fan.
The commentary is an engaging reminder that good cinema can come from very small budgets.
As reductive as it is comfortably airtight, the film is a lovely romantic scruple for those weary of Woody Allen’s aging neuroses.
Despite playing it safe, the film is saved by its touching performances.
The film is a Freud for Dummies journey into mind-cracking.