Blending the mundane with the macabre, the true-crime series prefers to examine how lives are lived rather than how a life was lost.
Rob Reiner’s film rests on broad, sweeping proclamations about the importance of factual reporting.
The Sinner recedes from a grisly opening into an examination of one woman’s complicated history.
The film seems more interested in its art design then in fully developing the story’s underlying sexual ethics.
So flimsily constructed that it resembles a middle-school play that’s been hastily filmed on an antique camcorder.
What’s missing is any provocative or poignant insights into the “truth” about Emanuel; all we get are vague hints.
Gabriele Muccino’s film is knee deep in “don’t hate the player, hate the game” territory.
If you’ve ever seen Psycho, or even if you know anything at all about the film, Hitchcock would like to congratulate you on your savvy.
The film holds a harsh light up to our own assumptions and expectations through a process of revising what we thought we saw.
The film is a redressing of Paul Verhoeven’s version, in sanitized, soulless textiles spun from the sort of endless CGI spool a $200 million budget can provide.
The film is a predictably insufferable, self-congratulatory cash cow designed to be ingested and then happily discharged without a second thought.
What is it with Gen-X men and their nostalgia for the machismo-fueled entertainments of their youth?
Planet 51 never soars to the boundless heights, and skies, that its animation so fantastically illustrates.
Easy Virtue gracelessly flattens its creator’s light gifts.
The film puts on a surprisingly mawkish show of political correctness against distinctly retrograde forms of homophobia.
Tony Scott relocates our sense of real-world helplessness to realms of deluded fantasy.
The film repackages The Ground Truth into a laughably clichéd, melodramatic, Oscar-courting prestige pic.
If only it was rewritten in a manner different than the Bryan Singer film, well that would have been magic, wouldn’t it?
Crowe doesn’t know how to shoot movies but he knows how to put on musical revues.
Hunter Richards’s London has the makings of a great gay porn.