Madelyn Deutch’s songs, ironically, obfuscate the allure and richness of her character and performance.
For a film so bent on naturalizing the presumably hilarious incongruity of “the sexes,” it sure features lots and lots of that site of horror: a naked male body.
This key work in the development of one of the most important voices in contemporary American cinema receives the Criterion red-carpet treatment.
The film trembles in the shadow of Letters from Iwo Jima but the quality of its image and sound elements, almost perfectly reproduced here on DVD, is almost unrivaled.
What primarily carries Chris Terrio’s film through its bumpy earnestness is its superb cast.
Clockstoopers is unusually fetishistic for a film so skittish about swapping saliva.