JFK still stands as possibly the purest camp artifact of American political cinema.
Review: Francis Ford Coppola’s Bram Stoker’s Dracula Gets 30th Anniversary 4K UHD Edition
The film gets a gorgeous new UHD presentation that you can really sink your teeth into.
The sensibilities of Quentin Tarantino and Tony Scott come together to fashion one of the cornerstone films of the early 1990s.
Slow Horses is more of a dark office comedy than spy show, finding most of its drama in the tension radiating between its characters.
The Woman in the Window never manages to transcend the impression that it’s merely being clever.
Time and again, Crisis shortchanges the human elements of its plot lines.
Mank’s most haunting sequences are self-contained arias in which characters grapple with their powerlessness.
Michael Goi’s film comes to feel as if lacks a through line, collapsing into a series of disconnected horror-movie beats.
Steven Soderbergh takes a macro approach to the scandal, though the results, with rare exception, are vexingly micro.
The film is a second-rate airport thriller that makes The Hunt for Red October seem like nonfiction by comparison.
Gary Oldman’s assured win over the two main critics’ favorites, Timothée Chalamet and Daniel Kaluuya, represents an unabashed retrenchment that’s entirely off brand in this Oscar year.
Joe Wright’s Darkest Hour reinforces only the most simplistic and patriotic vision of Winston Churchill.
The film is Cox’s bravura confrontation of fairy tales and drug-addled bodies.
Ultimately, the film most disappoints for its unwillingness to consistently poke fun of its inherent absurdity.
A gorgeous, perceptively supplemented restoration of a pivotal early masterwork in Leigh’s career.
The Space Between Us is simply disappointing when it isn’t trying to browbeat its audience into emotional submission.
Dito Montiel’s silly plot machinations waste a solid performance from Shia LaBeouf.
Romeo Is Bleeding projects an aura of obsessive self-consciousness that occasionally suggests the superior film that eluded its creators.
Criminal’s absence of style, the lack of relish the filmmakers take in the material’s inherent ludicrousness, is a failure of conviction.
It’s at once devoted to corroborating and casting an exaggerated light on Soviet paranoia and the state’s rhetoric of unmasking its enemies.