The film’s weird reformulation of the Electra complex is nothing short of a sexist fantasy of salvation.
A consummate sampler platter of the bounty of state-of-the-art animation currently available as alternatives established major-studio house styles.
It makes John Huston’s elephantine, synthetically charismatic 1982 adaptation look like a Minnelliesque model of focus and concision.
Jennifer Lawrence is taking a page from Mo’Nique’s book and playing the campaign game by her own rules.
Compared to most of the season’s races, Best Actress has remained somewhat open.
American Animal’s poster, like the film, finds common ground between the high- and lowbrow, the artful and the infantile.
The film is a comfortable middle-class fantasy of the moral purity of abject poverty.
The film’s strongest bit of buzz has been swirling around the lead performance from Naomi Watts, whose tortured turn as the quintet’s mother hen has made her a Best Actress frontrunner.
Will the Academy really go for a star-free, Sendak-esque allegory, whose rugged charms are tied to its loose lack of answers?
The father-daughter relationship at the heart of the film is hauntingly rendered as a prickly knot of animosity and tough love.
Beasts of the Southern Wild is a beautiful fairy tale about survivor’s guilt.