At first glance, Martin Scorsese seems like an odd choice to do an interview movie with Fran Lebowitz,
Dark and gritty streets don’t get that way by themselves. Lurking eyes, thoughts soured by peril and desperation, and minds numbed by sickness and perversion make them that way.
The film’s biggest asset is its unusual stable of auteurs.
Fassbinder’s direct style creates vagueries in the film that become all the more unsettling the longer you consider them.
Klaus Kinski’s infamous intensity and lunacy are both on vivid display in Klaus Kinski: Jesus Christ the Savior.
Magalie Pichon in Bas-fonds is a force of nature.
In contemporary Shanghai, Jia has located a nexus of past and future and, predictably, he’s more interested in the rubble than the glamour.
“Perfect Life” is Belong’s poppiest effort yet, but there’s no mistaking the dirty, clinging crunch of each instrument for the work of any other group.
Great actors in great scenes do not necessarily a great movie make.
There was a line all the way down Second Street off Second Avenue in Manhattan last night.
Ann-Margaret’s performance is like a rambunctious asterisk to Susan Sontag’s essay published the same year.
Jeff Bridges does meet the challenge, but he does so by kind of skirting around it.
Film discovery isn’t business; it’s personal.
The choice of violent imagery belies the apparent sweetness of the group’s nine members and the single’s simply massive hooks.
This past summer should have belonged to Joe Dante.
The writers manage to make the film more compelling as it goes along, always a potential problem in boxing pictures.
Writer and curator Bradford Nordeen discusses his Harrington program and why this director remains such an intriguing cult figure.
An appealing little oddball of a movie, Septien is ironic yet genuinely sweet.
It resolves its thicket of mature moral questions in the most glib and banal means possible.
The film finds Joe Swanberg plumbing the same tired issues, albeit from a slightly older perspective.