These three films chart one of the most meteoric career rises in Hollywood history.
For all the thrills provided by its pioneering pageantry, the film leaves you with a soul-nagging query: What price entertainment?
Pixar’s first entry in the Criterion Collection is a stellar release.
For Schrader, even a film called Master Gardener ultimately pivots on a man having to take out the macho trash.
Call Jane is curiously staid and low-wattage story where, too often, things work out just fine for its characters.
Though flattering through and through, the film is ironically removed from the charms of the worshipped original.
The film fails to effectively seize on how its main character’s life and work experiences have affected her as a person and artist.
The film feels lived-in despite its glaringly mannered dialogue and charmingly eccentric characterizations.
David Fincher’s film maintains a consistently bleak atmosphere that elevates it above its sloppy sequel.
The insensitivity of director Walter Hill’s The Assignment springs from an over-abundance of caution.
A Monster Calls is both governed and straitjacketed by director J.A. Bayona’s competent impersonality.
The film’s dialogue is entertainingly hard-boiled, and the performances knowing without ever being arch.
Compassionate and structurally intriguing, Stig Björkman’s documentary is a stellar portrait of a great artist.
Comparisons to Steven Spielberg’s The BFG and Spike Jonze’s Where the Wild Things Are will be inevitable.
The film follows its predecessor in being broadly concerned with comforting notions of home and family.
The film highlights the potent dichotomies that made the actress luminescent both on and off screen.
Its exasperating atonality washes out any legitimate idea about identity, education, nature versus nurture, or artificial intelligence.
It doesn’t take long to realize that Ridley Scott’s adaptation is only aiming for certain forms of credibility, and callously eschewing others.
All of them have earned their right to be here, either by standing on the shoulders of giants or wildly impaling creatures of the night.
Lee’s aching study of the “me” generation provides a stunning array of period detail to give distinct form to the social disconnect and discomfort of the Nixon era.