Writer-director Shane Atkinson’s film wears its Coen brothers influence on its sleeve.
Throughout, Cage flexes his singular acting muscles in increasingly hilarious directions.
Aronofsky’s influential hellride of a film gets a sturdy 4K upgrade and a few new extras that extol its technical merits.
The series is so ploddingly manufactured from familiar parts that it feels like it was spat out by an algorithm.
Tukel’s film doesn’t live up to the promise of its fleet-footed opening.
The film essentially indulges in the same act of willful distractedness as Ted Bundy’s admirers.
The film creates an incestuous atmosphere that’s reminiscent of the stories of Edgar Allan Poe.
By taking complex women out of anything resembling the real world, Onur Tukel ultimately cheapens them.
The series proves once again that action need not be explosive to be effective.
The real danger in the world of The Americans is that one fails to notice they’re being crushed.
The episode reexamines the distinctions we draw between offense and defense, between the necessary evil and the greater good.
“The Rat” reaffirms one of the show’s central ideas that all of us are, to a certain extent, hiding in plain sight.
The episode tightens the vise around the characters as if to test their instincts.
If the episode can be said to have a central thrust, it’s an interest in bruising the characters’ convictions through a series of unexpected developments.
The situation is now so grave one doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
The Americans is as full of formal coups as any of its more flashy brethren.
Creator Joe Weisberg and executive producer Joel Fields discuss season four of The Americans.
Andrew Renzi treats unfettered wealth as a hyperbolic playground through which to explore masculine insecurity.
Selma paradoxically presents nonviolent civil rights protest as something akin to a military campaign.
Philip Roth’s original ending is cranked up to 11, flattening the more interesting contours of Al Pacino’s performance.