Andrew Haigh’s film always feels perched on the precipice of unlocking a deeper register.
For better and worse, writer-director Sarah Polley’s adaptation of Women Talking is most noteworthy for its imagery.
The film charts Louis Wain’s slow, long mental breakdown in ways that tackily oscillate between the pitying and the whimsical.
How has Oscar royally screwed things up this year? Let us count the ways.
Fede Álvarez’s The Girl in the Spider’s Web suffers from a compulsion to be capital-C cool.
The film’s satisfyingly tactile action set pieces serve to hammer home just how perilous the space race really was.
Even Unsane’s most ridiculous moments coast on the sheer energy of Steven Soderbergh’s aesthetic gamesmanship.
Breathe is an easily digestible replica of the truth, bathed in honeyed cinematography and sentimentalized adulation.
The film’s annoying glibness is neatly summarized by the line: “In life, going downhill is an uphill job.”
The new Upstairs Downstairs (no comma this time around) is less a sequel than a reboot.
When it comes to Nicolas Cage performances these days, goofier is infinitely better.