Mamet’s first, best, and most influential film receives a sturdy transfer that could nevertheless use a bit more refurbishing.
Deceptive Practice never bothers to attempt the one thing we’d expect and hope from a documentary about Ricky Jay: It doesn’t try to bamboozle us.
The primary reason The Great Buck Howard doesn’t immediately float out of one’s mind is John Malkovich.
Redbelt may or may not be Mamet’s best feature, but it is most definitely his least sycophantically written.
Redbelt is faithfully cast in the tradition of Jean-Pierre Melville’s Le Samouraï.
It surely isn’t lost on Mamet that the title of his 1987 debut feature, House of Games, doubles as a three-word summation of his career.
Dark and distressing, Last Days is as anti-anthemic as “Smells Like Teen Spirit.”
Just as Elephant is and is not about Columbine, Last Days is and is not about Kurt Cobain.
Make your claim on Deadwood: The Complete First Season.
With little breathing room for emotional high-stakes, Heist is little more than pompous Mametisms on parade.