The disc perhaps definitively contextualizes the moral urgency of the film’s intricate aesthetic.
The film revives many noir touchstones, but never the throbbing unease that courses through the classics of the genre.
The innate imperfection of canine hair gives Wes Anderson’s lovingly crafted dioramas the illusion of life.
David Frankel’s film argues that the power of miracles can be manufactured by those who can fund them.
This animated film isn’t willing to completely face the bleakness of its allegory of faith versus skepticism.
Criterion stalwartly continues to ensure that one of America’s finest directors is properly recognized for the master artist that he’s become.
Many wondered why Foxcatcher’s Steve Carell didn’t attempt a campaign in supporting actor, which is where BAFTA slotted him.
The film's Hollywood skewering is constantly spoon-feed to us like strained bananas.
Alejandro González Iñárritu’s anti-critic harangue is petty coming from a writer-director whose spotty filmography has largely been met with critical praise.
This release is almost certainly a placeholder for a more illuminative future Criterion edition.
As always, Wes Anderson places his trademark precision in direct confrontation with the chaos and confusion menacing his characters.
Wes Anderson has become a master of the fetching teaser poster.
The film comes to Blu-ray armed with a superb A/V transfer and a solid packing of extras from Universal.
The transfer shows up the seemingly endless visual and auditory pleasures of Anderson’s latest masterpiece.
This is an unbelievably silly movie, with a script that must eventually come to terms with the fact that it’s just another globetrotting spy caper.
In his understanding of both the pleasures and limits of fancy, Anderson generously leaves his characters with room to live.
The film is an intensification of the rigorous aesthetic preoccupations and occasionally precious thematic concerns that have long marked Anderson’s films.
The film examines the divide between ethical uprightness and moral bankruptcy with dreary ponderousness.
Messy genre jumbling has rhyme and reason in Leaves of Grass, as it speaks directly to the film’s portrait of life’s unpredictability and uncontrollability.
This release will keep Fight Club misread as a nihilistic paean to violence—or as a celebration of hyper-masculinity-for years to come.