That Kind of Summer never quite resolves into any one stance on its subjects, an equanimity that’s to its credit.
Compellingly and surprisingly, the film doesn’t propose an entirely celebratory view of our accountability-seeking present.
These films depict in distinctive ways the process of coping with and even accepting the dead’s presence in our lives.
The pleasure of Denis Côté’s film radiates from the meditative force of its formal construction.
Writer-director Denis Côté’s film offers an oxymoronic parable that’s been utilized countless times by cinema.
In Milla director Valérie Massadian’s hands, the minor and the major are one and the same.
The drably mundane is glossed up with pictoral elegance, borrowing from the early avant-garde’s fascination with industrial automation.
The film presents its tonal switch-ups and narrative swerves with a deadpan belligerence by turns stimulating, calculated, and poignant.
Nailing the feel of a place through precise lighting isn’t a problem for South Korean auteur Hong Sang-soo.
Films about the not-so-great outdoors pervade this year’s festival.
The film makes a case without explicating one at all.
Côté’s images ostensibly detached, they somehow manage to be beautiful without ever becoming particularly pleasant to look at.
The forum side of the festival produced as much intellectual stimulation as hot air, as is usual with such round tables.
Stéphane Lafleur does nothing to disavow me of the notion that Canada is some kind of depressing anomic frozen wasteland.
Curling is a psychological study that refuses to go deeper than what the naked eye can detect.
There are, in fact, two games being played throughout Denis Côté’s Curling.