Rustin roots itself cinematically more in fantasy than possibility.
Criterion accords this seminal teen film a gorgeous transfer and a few nutritious extras.
Guillermo del Toro’s horror anthology exudes an alluring air of mystery, rough around the edges but coursing with energy.
Criterion’s lush transfer makes it clear now, more than ever, that Deep Cover is one of the great American thrillers of the early ’90s.
Boseman meticulously charts the breakdown of a man discovering that pursuit and escape are inextricably intertwined.
The film makes the path to basketball glory and the road to personal redemption seem oddly effortless.
The film is clearly a low-budget production, but this transfer is impressively detailed.
The film consistently feels like an unattended idling motor, existing for the sheer purpose of existing.
House of Lies is as brash and cocky as the management consultants it follows; it’s also filled with just as much bullshit.
The more things change, the more they stay the same.
The cat-and-mouse isn’t much of a contest at this point.
Those who grasp the personal consequences of the election play the angles with greater care.
Allying with rivals to thwart a third party is the cold calculus of the city’s politicians as well.
The dealers know the kids, and the kids know the cops.
Its opening credits are not an ordinary credits sequence, but a series of four short films that distill each season’s themes, goals, and motifs.
Marlo Stanfield has maneuvered to the top of the West Baltimore drug trade, and he’s executing a broad campaign to stay there.
The slippery slope of civilization is already in place on The Wire and Simon is just out to document how each and every person survives.
On The Wire, everyone’s in school.
Varied as the street characters are, their African-American counterparts in the police department are just as individualized.
Sahara may be B-grade drivel but the DVD may end up being the best-looking one of the year.