Godzilla and Kong’s team-up is an inevitability, but the film takes its sweet time getting there.
The film is one of the more intrinsically frightening evocations of a traumatized mind since Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me.
Rebecca Hall discusses why she enjoys doing puzzle box movies, and how she holds ambiguity in her performances, and more.
The film upends the clichés that practically define the ghost story in surprising and intriguing ways.
Godzilla vs. Kong receives a robust ultra-high-def release from Warner Bros. Home Entertainment.
Godzilla and Kong’s brawls have the ennui-inducing feel of a child arbitrarily smashing action figures together.
A sickened rage and psychological nuance courses through every meticulously arranged frame of the film.
The series is a character study in which wounded introverts wrestle with their inability to connect with others.
The film’s skittishness is particularly maddening considering that Allen has nothing to artistically prove.
In the end, the film is all too ready to transform into just another shiny pop object indistinguishable from so many others before it.
The fabric of the fantasy world depicted in Mirai lacks the cohesion of the film’s central theme about appreciating one’s place in a family tree.
The actors discuss their new film and the persistent pressure to couple up.
Writer-director Brian Crano’s Permission is cautious and generic, neutering its best instincts.
Professor Marston and the Wonder Woman is a film about eroticism and passion that is neither erotic nor passionate.
The Dinner is shrilly, luridly, dully, and unremittingly ugly, preaching to a choir that it also demonizes.
In The Dinner, writer-director Oren Moverman wastes no time in establishing a tone of grandiose scabrousness.
The film largely fails to animate Christine Chubbuck’s inner turmoil, focusing instead on broad, blunt externalities.
Full of such quietly inventive visual magic, it’s perfectly content to simply revel in the stuff dreams are made of.
Joel Edgerton’s boilerplate direction is a blessing for a genre increasingly saddled with literal visualizations of madness.
If you programmed an algorithm to figure out how Lawnmower Man might be retold by Snake Plissken at the end of Escape from L.A., you’d still wind up with something more human.