Cloud Atlas is a rare film that’s greater than the sum of its often innocuous parts.
From Liberty Valance to Daniel Plainview, Hollywood has always loved a good bastard.
What very good company Robert Redford keeps indeed.
It would appear that one of the biggest challenges facing movies with huge, starry casts is getting all the actors together to shoot the poster image.
Ultimately, the film is nothing more than a Lifetime movie dolled up in cheap Philip K. Dick drag.
Every year, a lovely spa town awakens from its long sleep to welcome hundreds of mostly young, backpack-toting film enthusiasts.
This is a slight but moving and unusual addition to the canon of modern American films depicting the plights of young(-ish) adults adrift.
Mark and Jay Duplass add an easy everything-is-connected spirituality to their established and by now unwieldy stew of modes and themes.
Here’s a list of 15 memorable movie ledges, from cliffs to rooftops to ominous subway platforms.
Scott has always had a certain reticence to embrace the urgency of the current day.
As in his superior original, Oliver Stone’s follow-up damns with one hand but can’t help glorifying with the other.
This release does little to make a new case for James and the Giant Peach as a rediscovered lost gem of the new animation golden age.
It’s getting harder for fictional characters to do something so outrageous that we can’t empathize with them.
Michael Douglas’s star turn in the sour dramedy Solitary Man heralds the return of that era’s skeeviest big-screen persona.
Messy genre jumbling has rhyme and reason in Leaves of Grass, as it speaks directly to the film’s portrait of life’s unpredictability and uncontrollability.
Until the cheap sentiment of its finale, The Greatest feels like a generally honest look at the grieving process.
Peter Jackson’s The Lovely Bones, like John Hillcoat’s The Road, is an interesting failure.
Watching Speed Racer is comparable to dousing one’s eyeballs in a sugary hyper-digitized Skittles soup.
As with so much of Disney’s female-centric fantasies, the energetic film eventually peddles the same old ass-backward messages.
Mr. Woodcock knows lots of verbs that mean “having sex” but screws up virtually all opportunities for humor.