Dominik’s adaptation of Joyce Carol Oates’s novel paints Monroe as nothing more than a bruised plaything.
Weird accordingly—or is it accordion-gly?—takes everything to new heights of glorious ridiculousness.
Joe Carnahan’s Copshop effortlessly coasts on a gnarly old-school vibe.
Dave Franco has a mighty command of silence as a measurement of emotional aftershock.
Marc Maron’s commanding aura of regret gives the film, despite its missed opportunities, an emotional center.
There’s barely enough substance in Destroyer to support an Aesop’s fable, let alone a Los Angeles crime epic.
Pat Healy’s Take Me is a suspense comedy that simply isn’t very suspenseful or very funny.
Writer-director Sarah Adina Smith’s film confuses narrative gimmickry for the sensitive evocation of an inner life.
The film conveys a sense of pastiche unpredictably giving way to a raw and primordially intimate emotional realm.
Ti West’s methodical austerity yields in this film the most powerful passages of his career.
A charged, unnerving turn of the screw, The Invitation is consumed by the fear of forgetting.
It’s hardly a desecration of Pascal Laugier’s original film, but that assumes the 2008 horror film is a canonical text.
The series is a hungry anticipation for what machines can and will do, but it only has a cursory interest in the complex humans that built them.
A filmmaker is thinking outside of the box when they stage a scene in which an ambulatory hemorrhoid tears a guy’s cock off with its teeth and swallows it.
Like his obsessed heroes, Werner Herzog continues to hear the call of the jungle.