At its best, A New Era quietly links its themes of entitlement and survival.
HBO’s The Gilded Age considers the social currents of the historical moment, alluringly cutting through the delusions of its aristocrats.
After a while, all you see are the gears of various sublots turning separately until they mesh together and move in unison.
Kippers for breakfast, Aunt Helga? Is it St. Swithin’s Day already? No, it ain’t, dear. ‘Tis Downtown Abbey Day.
Gilles Paquet-Brenner’s film is ultimately a genre item that operates on alternately prestigious and campy autopilot.
Not even when the doomed Juliet reaches for Romeo’s dagger do you feel a single vicarious pain in your gut.
The peril of prescription drug use is only one red herring that Scott Z. Burns throws out.
Reportedly, people have been living at the Highclere site for roughly 1,300 years.
There seems no reason why the film’s Art Direction, Set Decoration, and Production Design can’t compete right along with this year’s showy heavy-hitters.
Cute may be what Darby was about, but cute is not what Mattie Ross is about, and she puts a big gash in the center of True Grit.
When not simply functioning as a sorry excuse for a thriller, The Tourist also operates as the Angelina Jolie Ego Trip Show.
The Young Victoria is not particularly stodgy, but it is rather flat and literal.
In Separate Lies, the bombshells don’t illuminate emotion.
Mira Nair’s stately costume drama does little to desecrate Thackeray’s opus.