The things that elevate Chiwetel Ejiofor’s film are those that elevated Rob Peace’s life overall.
The festival survived the trauma of lockdown to demonstrate impressive potential this year.
This psychedelic, horror-strewn romp’s artistry perfectly reflects the intensity of Strange navigating endless alternate realms.
The Man Who Fell to Earth fails to recognize the key to the power of its source material: its peculiarity.
Symptomatic of the Marvel-ization of modern action cinema, the film seems to exist mostly as an advertisement for future product.
Had the filmmakers taken a more easygoing approach, Locked Down might have landed in the realm of The Thomas Crown Affair.
Smartly prioritizing the bond of relationships over action, the film is in the end only somewhat convincing on both counts.
In transforming folk metaphors into utilitarian attributes of an action hero, Disney exposes the emptiness of their product.
This ostentatiously expensive remake is reliant on our memory of the original to accentuate every significant moment.
The trailer for the photorealistic remake of the 1994 film is hellbent on proving that you can indeed step in the same river twice.
As it moves through Jesus’s greatest hits, the narrative focuses less and less on Mary Magdalene until her life is beside the point.
Chiwetel Ejiofor announces himself as a sensitive, shrewdly restrained filmmaker with his quietly assured directorial debut.
Director Joshua Marston’s Come Sunday exists in a vacuum of blandly expositional generality.
Arthur Conan Doyle’s legendary characters feel as if they’ve been air-dropped into a universe where they don’t belong.
Marvel’s best film to date is a surprisingly beautiful, eccentric, and generous fable of interpersonal, political, and cosmic communion.
Nothing that Marvel Studios has produced can compare to the visual splendor of Scott Derrickson’s film.
This terrific neo-noir has been outfitted with a beautiful transfer and no extras to speak of, which is a shame.
The film arrives prepackaged with suggested comparisons to Heat that it never earns because of its dreary literal-mindedness.
The film makes everyone’s lives nothing but the blank spots in fate’s big book of Mad Libs.
The film goes in for the idea of texture, tics, and human behavior, but there’s no conviction, and no real push for eccentricity.