An exhaustive double-disc that suggests the unique circumstances of a production can make for a more compelling tale than the resulting film.
Last year, for reasons I don’t entirely understand, Gucci Mane suddenly become a rap critic favorite.
Roeg’s is a singular, haunting sci-fi experience.
Even when you have no idea what’s going on in The Man Who Fell to Earth, you won’t want to look away.
Seems to me that Hunky Dory is the last time Bowie was hanging back and outside of his “generation.”
The film depicts, sans nuance or insight, the collapse of a tech firm during the dot-com era.
Sure, the film is about change, but did new culture come from Glastonbury, or did Glastonbury adapt to the culture?
By the end, it’s hard to pin down the intent and even the honesty of the filmmaker.
Word of advice to Madonna: Work with notoriously bratty directors more often.
Luc Besson’s Arthur and the Invisibles clears the smog left behind by the year’s dubious family entertainments.
The Prestige’s performances have a big-budget, larger-than-life robustness.
Romanek’s best work poses a serious challenge to others working in his field: Are you gonna go my way?
The Hunger is strictly for perverts and camp enthusiasts.
The film is all all neo-gothic smoke and mirrors.
Bowie was always partial to the pomp side of pop, and Ziggy Stardust carries all the drama of a Shakespearean play.
This collector’s edition appears to be basically a replay of the earlier Superbit release.
Who better to make an album about fortune and hardship than David Bowie?
For all the misappropriated hatred spewed about the film back in 1988, it follows the Gospels with diligence and faith.
As with all Superbit titles, no extras are included in order to allow for a higher audio/video bit rate.
For all its visual inventiveness, there’s something inert about the late Henson’s fantasy adventure.