John Frankenheimer’s film is a propulsive examination of international terrorism.
The disc’s quality extras ultimately outweigh its less-than-perfect visual presentation.
Trumbull’s sci-fi fable is both an exploration of environmental issues and the effects of isolation on human beings.
The film’s improvisational feel helps to ground a fable-esque narrative in a discernible reality.
The film is Quentin Tarantino’s magnum opus, a sweeping statement on an entire generation of American popular culture.
When it rains, it pours.
Single-minded and direct in its execution, the film is a hard look at the extremes of masculine guilt and healing.
By treating its main character as exceptional, the film validates the punitive system it seeks to criticize.
This set is a beautiful, painstakingly contextualized restoration of a genre- and medium-bending masterpiece.
John Curran creates room for his characters to think and feel and an environment that encourages us to do the same.
The sledgehammer preachiness of Mark Pellington’s Nostalgia almost scans as a failed hipster joke.
This lackluster presentation of Corman’s alternately groovy and goofy LSD drama seems to take a cue from the hallucinogenic drug experience.
The premise of the film is simple, but it’s a simplicity that can only attract complications.
If it’s meant as a pulpy genre exercise, Matt Shakman’s competence in various modes works to strip it of any sense of coherent vision.
If this year’s Best Actor race is all about which nominee brandishes the most compelling story, then Christian Bale faces some mighty long odds.
Sadly, unlike Tiny Fey and Amy Poehler, we can’t all get what we hope for.
A buzzworthy turn overshadowing a movie’s failings is a trend this Oscar season.
Alexander Payne’s overview of America is extraordinarily, multifariously profound.
There’s homage, and then there’s the new poster for Alexander Payne’s Nebraska.
This classic Los Angeles-set neo-noir with teeth finally arrives on Blu-ray in an indispensable package from Twilight Time.