The documentary is a public relations exercise masquerading as a substantial fashion profile.
The sense of concurrent being and non-being is key to the Michael Mann aesthetic and ethos.
The film captures the textures of a life that’s not defined solely by anti-trans oppression.
Official Competition is another film about filmmaking, but it escapes hermeticism by homing in on actors and acting.
The film treats its premise as the backdrop for a trite celebration of empowerment and teamwork among professional women.
The film is a ghost story as well as a story of transference, which Pedro Almodóvar understands to be one in the same.
The final product feels like more of an interesting and beautifully filmed anecdote than compelling political and human drama.
Sony has outfitted Almodóvar’s newest memory play with a transfer that fully preserves the film’s painstaking gorgeousness.
This resplendent Blu-ray testifies to the sumptuous beauty and thematic complexity of Almodóvar’s masterpiece.
The film dwells in a murky middle ground where everything is overblown but meant to be taken at face value.
Everybody Knows rests a bit awkwardly between an emotionally complex melodrama and a shallow genre film.
The film’s biggest liberty is to make Poirot’s ultimate decision more palatable for American sensibilities.
It’s confounding that writer-director Fernando Trueba fails to probe the film’s political implications.
Kenneth Branagh’s adaptation of the Agatha Christie detective novel gets its first trailer.
Ma ma blends a martyred-woman melodrama with a disease-of-the-week tearjerker.
The film doesn’t do much to satirize the spy genre, instead using its flimsy plot mostly as scaffolding for a barrage of jokes.
The film is frequently guilty of the same obsolescence it accuses the characters of embodying.
Sergio Castellitto’s film quickly turns out to be more interested in reveling in the secrets of its storyline than in its sentiments.
The film doesn’t temper enough of Cormac McCarthy’s excesses, but Ridley Scott and his ensemble find enough meat in the scenario to make for diverting, bloody pleasure.
The entirety of the marketing for The Counselor suffers from what I’m calling “prestige-film fallacy.”