Director Shane Black’s streak of puckish nihilism is an attitude that makes him a perfect for this franchise.
Like the teenagers at its center, Hot Summer Nights tries too hard to look cooler than it ever could be.
The images have a pleasing straightforwardness that parallels the openness of Cody’s longing for love.
Thomas Jane’s dramatization of rage is shrewdly comical in its overt and ultimately moving über-manliness.
The charismatic actors are weary of their roles without condescending to the material, and the lean concept is becoming for an under-the-radar thriller.
Director David Hackl often shoots his bear in fashions that accent its lumbering, powerful grace, even during its death rattle.
Brian A. Miller’s Vice takes the basic premise from 1973’s Westworld and morphs it into an incoherent slog.
The result is an uncomfortable mix of the trite social politics of Paul Haggis’s Crash and the shallow character development of Pulp Fiction.
Gregg Araki’s film suggests a hothouse melodrama that’s been drained of the hothouse, the melodrama, and any other discernably dramatic stakes.
Drive Hard is the action-film equivalent of one of those folks who relentlessly speak of having it tough all over as they plan their third yearly vacation.
Wayne Kramer thankfully refuses to cloak his excessiveness in hedge-betting self-consciousness and the result is a gratifyingly disreputable B-movie blow out.
The three audio commentaries by Colette Burson, Dmitry Lipkin, and staff writer Brett C. Leonard are intelligent and funny.
If your taboo zone is in fact the bathroom or you like making jokes about what comes out of your body and into your toilet bowl, Dreamcatcher is for you.