Gringo’s circuitous narrative never allows for a character or storyline to develop in a particularly efficient way.
A Wrinkle in Time’s by and large cramped worlds never look like anything other than animated projections.
The Amma Asante film’s broad sociopolitical overview is balanced by the intimate attention paid to the leads.
This socially observant chess drama looks spectacular on Disney’s Blu-ray release, which flawlessly retains the film’s rich and integral color palette.
Mira Nair’s Queen of Katwe approaches the sports movie’s conventions with a light, funk-inflected touch.
The film rises above the mawkishness or dreary didacticism that characterize too many of its peers.
Maris Curran never reconciles the film’s impulse to interiority with its weakness for hothouse melodrama.
The film is committed to the sort of broad strokes that reduce a great artist’s life to a spectacle of self-pity.
Nightingale is first an intellectualized puzzle, and a portrait of a man losing his mind a very distant second.
Ava DuVernay’s Selma paradoxically presents nonviolent civil rights protest as something akin to a military campaign.
What will make it essential for future generations isn’t mere flashpoint topicality, but the way it aligns an old struggle with a current one.
J.C. Chandor’s fondness for situational irony is empowered by the spartan efficiency of his method, and that of most of his performers.
Much like his hero, Christopher Nolan’s goal seems to be to take the humor and wildness out of imagination, to see invention in rigidly practical and scientific terms.
With the film, Lee Daniels quietly pushes his talent for hashing out visceral, violent emotions into unexpected dramatic terrain.
This is a small movie that asks big questions about loyalty, loneliness, and how our choices affect ourselves and those around us.
Director Aimee Lagos seems to be at odds with her own film, like a well-meaning but controlling parent hell-bent on choosing a child’s college, major, and fraternity for them.