Agony and ecstasy walk hand in hand in Lynne Ramsay’s feature-length directorial debut.
Ramsay likens Joaquin Phoenix’s mesmerism to that of Samantha Morton in Morvern Callar.
Lynne Ramsay’s You Were Never Really Here is rather minimalist, offering slivers of story and characterization.
On December 6, elites and journalists assembled at the Souk Madinat for the opening night of the festival.
You Were Never Really Here is possibly the most thrillingly unclassifiable film to play at this year’s Cannes.
Green has crafted a debut as fresh, intimate, and compassionate as Lynne Ramsay’s Ratcatcher in 1999.
Let’s talk about Kevin in the warm light of Oscilloscope’s visually okay and aurally spectacular Blu-ray.
It’s both unfair and too easy to shake out predictions for this category based on what is most likely to appeal to the Kindle Fire set.
Ramsay puts the art-house crowd though a titillating wringer in her contraption-like parental-dread thriller.
What we really need to talk about is the fraudulence of Lynne Ramsay’s overripe collage of bright colors, smug pop music, and flimsy characterizations.
The promotion of Lynne Ramsay’s We Need to Talk About Kevin has been all over the map.
So, this is going to get very disgusting very soon, and it’s not for the squeamish.
Lynne Ramsay returns to the world of filmmaking after a nine-year hiatus, and we’re all the better for it.
If Cannes is the cinephile’s version of the Olympics, the media critics covering the event are its long-distance runners.
The experience afforded by a collection of this sort demands something of a reexamination of one’s relationship to the medium.
Narrative takes a backseat to a sometimes frustrating, sometimes fascinating study of Samantha Morton’s face in Morvern Callar.