Boyle’s addiction to the cinematic image is as unremitting as Renton’s love affair with the spike.
The film breaks little new ground but is at least a notable improvement on, well, The Mousetrap.
This disc’s gorgeous 4K transfer and slate of extras make a strong case for the importance of physical releases of streaming titles.
The film takes occasional stabs at comic grotesquerie, but it’s brought back to earth by an insistent docudrama seriousness.
The filmmakers clearly love Laurel and Hardy, and this love is both Stan & Ollie’s great liability and chief strength.
In Okja, a transporting protest fantasy becomes another shrill dust-up in the waging of the culture wars.
Compared to its predecessor, director Danny Boyle’s T2 Trainspotting is a relatively aimless and sedate experience.
Sharon Maguire’s Bridget Jones’s Baby is less a film than it is a series of needle-drops.
Eventually, director Matteo Garrone’s self-consciously patchwork, one-thing-after-another structure wears thin.
At least it doesn’t make the mistake of attempting to check off every moment of a man’s life over the course of a few hours.
A broad, crude mutilation of Emile Zola’s noirish romance Thérèse Raquin that prioritizes heavy petting over plot.
While the film charts its protagonist’s gradual progression toward a renewed sense of agency and freedom, it rarely indulges in lengthy or even linear narrative arcs.
Time has been exceedingly kind to Boyle’s excellent breakthrough film and Lionsgate has done a great job preserving it on Blu-ray.
This stunning yet frustratingly remote film gets the exemplary transfer it deserves.
A wonderful, must-own transfer by the Criterion Collection of one of last year’s best films.
Parents faced with overexcited children on Christmas Eve now have the perfect way to get them to sleep.
As with Palindromes, the film revolves around a casting gimmick, with its predecessor’s roles now embodied by all new performers.
The film is brisk, peppy, light on its feet, and tries awfully hard to be reminiscent of a fast-talking Depression-era rags-to-riches comedy.
Let the critics eat cake.
Remarkably, Coppola doesn’t ask us to take Marie Antoinette as she thinks she was, but as she probably was.