Guillermo del Toro’s heart beats louder when he allows himself to play, dreaming his own dreams and respecting his heroes enough to sully them.
No Oscar category has become as big a flash point among cinephiles as the cinematography prize.
Throughout, Del Toro’s book obliterates repugnant notions of "high art" and "low art."
Yet another ghost story that insists there’s nothing more chilling than a woman charged with raising a child on her own.
Even though Lubezki is backed, for the first time ever, by a Best Picture nominee, he’s also almost entirely surrounded by nominees that can boast the same.
A landmark year for me as well as for the movies.
We’ve noticed a certain trend among “professional” Oscar prognosticators—first and foremost among them Dave Karger—in dealing with the question of Dreamgirls.
It would seem that this year’s cinematography nominees were picked by aliens.
Character trajectories have never come this easy—at least not since Tsotsi last year.
To hear some tell it, Alexandre Desplat is just about the finest thing to happen to motion picture scoring since Bernard Herrmann or Franz Waxman.
It’s running neck and pec between the broody Muppet movie and the one whose cast looks like they’ve been assaulted by Animal wielding a scummy powder puff.
Appropriately enough, we begin our Oscar prediction coverage by exorcising the foul demon spirit of Paul Haggis.
The split between the story’s disparate realms is so clean it’s almost pathological.