The film dwells in a murky middle ground where everything is overblown but meant to be taken at face value.
The series suggests the failure of U.S. intelligence in the years before 9/11 was one of imagination.
In terms of scale and narrative ingenuity, Wormwood is as staggering as any Errol Morris film before it.
Pablo Larraín’s film bluntly hammers home the notion that history is framed by perception rather than reality.
The films at this year’s festival offered plenty examples of legacies lived up to and not—neglected and obsessed over.
The film never surrenders to the abandon of its action, and as such never feels like it shifts out of first gear.
Aesthetically, the film cunningly suggests life that exists solely within an academic experiment, closed off from chaos that isn’t manufactured.
The film is a lightly dramatized case file that’s structurally averse to world-building and psychological portraiture.
It’s best appreciated as a tragicomic profile of a man whose extraordinary talent was undermined by the political reality in which he was enmeshed.
Most disheartening is how the female leads aren’t given ample space to develop as dynamic characters beyond the most urgent confines of the script’s scenarios.
Like Michael Cera’s two recent films with Sebastián Silva, Kelly Reichardt’s Night Moves reveals the dark core contained within an actor’s nice-guy neuroticism.
Xavier Dolan reigns in his often flagrant use of formalism without sacrificing his confidence as a filmmaker.
The actor discusses everything from long-distance running to the burden of wearing a beard in front of his family.
Lost in the music, mustaches, and furniture of the early ‘70s, this docudrama of a porn star’s exploitation isn’t nearly painful enough.
One of Woody Allen’s strongest and most pointed films in over a decade despite mildly falling victim to his recent propensity for clunky narrative development, cynicism, and stereotypical characterizations.
Lovelace seems unwilling or unable to go to deeper and darker places.