The film barely even scratches the surface of the animating force of Cézanne and Zola’s lives: their art.
It fails to supply an emotional punch to match the grandeur of its Lawrence of Arabia-inspired compositions.
The film is a bubbly regurgitation of retrograde romantic comedy tropes and reactionary sexual politics.
Dominik Moll never addresses Matthew Gregory Lewis’s original groundbreaking ideas in the film, nor does he rework the material for a contemporary audience.
Unmade Beds portrays its seekers as planets aspiring to bubblehood, or at least one tandem leap into the void.
Denis Dercourt’s The Page Turner is a French thriller without a single thrill.
Give a chance to L’Enfant, because more so than any film released this year in the United States, it deserves it.
L’Enfant’s swirling sense of moral chaos, sustained horror, and courage has not been seen since The Son.