Rarely do you see a protagonist appear so miniscule on a major movie poster, especially one who’s part of a blockbuster franchise.
The most miserable thing about melancholy is that it has no object.
Howard Deutch’s film is about manufactured nostalgia, bordering on revisionism, bordering on delusion.
You can count Joe Pesci’s star vehicles on one hand, and people will tell you My Cousin Vinny is the only worthwhile title.
Waxwork is thankfully free of The Cabin in the Woods’s smugness.
The premise is so preposterous and shaky, it simply needs to be swept under the rug as soon as the film begins.
The poster for Call Me is full of sexy promises.
Fish-out-of-water comedies are a dime a dozen in Hollywood, but few are as well-constructed as this one.
Many reviews have pointed out that 42 is a very conventional screen biography of Jackie Robinson. It is.
Is that Katniss Everdeen perched on that craggy peak, or is it Conan the Barbarian?
These characters, as unique as they are, are nevertheless of a fundamental relation to that of all Jarmusch creations.
James Gray has been working toward The Immigrant for his entire career.
The men in Alexander Payne’s movies are on a constant journey.
Kristin Scott Thomas’s sadistic mother figure is indicative of the film’s problematic construction.
Both of these films make an asset out of their respective pillaging of genre signifiers.
Lyle Kessler’s Orphans has got some major daddy issues.
Showrunner Steven Moffat has finally delivered a tremendous resolution to the mystery of Clara Oswald.
The film has enough latent charm and unique personality to standout amid a career of wild diversions.
If Kore-eda is tilling familiar soil here, he continues to do so at the height of his powers.
Farhadi utilizes living quarters as an area of adversity rather than comfort.