Almost 70 years after its initial release, The Night of the Hunter still resonates.
Robert Mitchum is the greatest Hollywood actor to ever pretend not to give a shit about acting.
The film now burns bright like a lucid fever dream thanks to Kino Lorber’s new Blu-ray.
One of Jarmusch’s best and most divisive films has been outfitted with a beautiful and imaginative Criterion package.
It never transcends its stock western template, and the home-video treatment is correspondingly unremarkable.
The film is a great, beautifully acted American crime drama that chillingly refutes the heightened macho swagger that often dominates the genre.
This unusually optimistic, and unsatisfying, Huston film receives competent, not especially memorable treatment from Twilight Time.
No need to double-dip if you already own Criterion’s first treatment of this intensely conflicted and resonant Southern gothic masterpiece.
What initially seems an obsessive-compulsive mash note to The Simpsons becomes a brain-teasing deconstruction of pop culture and more.
Be them morphine sellers, pot distributors, or even moonshine runners, the party has to stop some time.
Behind the anonymous-sounding title is a quintessential Walsh noir-western, with a lead performance by Robert Mitchum that contains multitudes.
From a child murderer to a furry monster to two more Stone creations, they comprise a choice selection of scoundrels.
Dominik mines an altogether different vein, worlds apart from the mournful, meditative, Malickian The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford.
The body of Ray’s best work reveals a laudable consistency of viewpoint, thematic cohesion, and aesthetic distinctiveness.
An intensely intelligent look at American history and a blueprint for how to (un)make it, from one of our country’s finest directors.
Icey Spoon’s response to Harry Powell’s snakelike jeremiads about says it all for this Criterion release.
Rustam’s James Dean: Race with Destiny is a ludicrous movie, but I’m glad it exists.
Although the plot and star have been recycled, El Dorado is still a gold standard of the western genre.
Robert Mitchum doesn’t remotely overshadow the film’s first-rate ensemble of character actors.
Downbeat ’70s crime with Beantown vowels, and a Hollywood icon’s masterful melancholy.