By now you have probably read the backstory of the film.
Next month, perennial rap-rookie-of-the-year contender J. Cole will finally drop his major label debut.
Penetrate the dream, and you’ll understand the nightmare.
The most chilling thing about Mann and Brian Cox’s version of Lecktor is his verisimilitude.
Male Bonding cleans up its ragged punk act ever so slightly on their second album.
Its sensational content aside, Jaws doesn’t have a whole lot in common with what we now think of as summer blockbusters.
Jay-Z and Kanye West have actually managed to record a song that sounds like a coke-bender.
Haven’t we recently seen this? Take one. No, actually we haven’t.
There are many questions posed in life.
The film is an elegy for Chris, and so it became an elegy for the youthfulness and beauty of River Phoenix himself.
If only Lizzy Grant were actually born Lana Del Rey.
Reiner and company seem to be giving permission to the men in the audience to succumb to the lumps in their throats.
Today, what stands out most about the film are the strange narrative tangents that occasionally lighten the mood.
As far as frightful childhood figures went, to me the Boogeyman had nothing on Jason Voorhees.
Jason Lives is the sort of sustained, fatigued overkill that you’d expect from Scream 8, not a slasher flick from 1986.
There is very little wowwww in Maximum Overdrive, but it is not as bad as its reputation.
It can be tricky to describe what distinguishes Louis C.K. from other stand-ups, even from those who specialize in observational, storytelling, confessional comedy.
The film sings an ultimately joyful song.
In his too-brief career, he managed nothing less than to broaden the possibilities of what kind of confrontations clothes can provoke.
Girls’s single could pass for a classic chamber-pop ballad circa 1989.