Jean-Stéphane Sauvaire’s Asphalt City is less a film than a guttersnipe’s wallow.
George Clooney’s film is a coming-of-age story that feels as if it was conceived inside of a lab.
Paul Schrader’s film grows more heated and crazed as the chaos of the past bleeds into a repressed present.
For all its emotional restraint, Rick Alverson’s film builds to a point of remarkable pathos.
The film is an all-too-fitting whimper of a conclusion to a franchise that never remotely fulfilled its potential.
The Tree of Life is the culmination of Malick’s artistry, and Criterion treats it as such with this totemic release.
This buckaroo of a disc does not blow it on the image and sound front at least.
You may want for something to hold on to, but actors Tye Sheridan and Alden Ehrenreich slip through the fingers.
Kyle Wilamowski’s film trades not in a nostalgia born of genuine lived experience, but of cinematic clichés.
If it turned out to be Spielberg’s final film, it would make for a fitting final curtain call for his brand of escapism.
The effect of writer-director Christopher Smith’s film becomes not unlike watching a puzzle solve itself.
The issue with X-Men: Apocalypse is that Bryan Singer suggests so many possible directions to go in and still chooses the least interesting one.
It’s unclear how witnessing a family deal with their specific issues affects Jesus’s own perspective on his destiny.
The film is an artless, puerile shadow of the likes of Edgar Wright and Simon Pegg’s Cornetto trilogy.
The payoff is a huge and telling visual howler, summarizing the entire plot with a blithe indifference that will inevitably mirror the audience’s.
The formalism fashions effective textural shortcuts to behavioral understanding that the remarkable cast fills in with finesse.
A sluggish fusion of a disease-of-the-week tearjerker with a comedic family crime romp that abounds in Boston-crime-movie details.
The film conjures a menacing perspective on how the titular occupation hulls out empathy and cultivates an unsettling strain of cynicism.
Joe is a fascinating, irresolvable mixture of tender, despairing blue-collar pathos, found faces, and macho genre hot air.
David Gordon Green finds a balance between symbolism and realism in his storytelling that allows the film to be many things at once.