For all its emotional restraint, Rick Alverson’s film builds to a point of remarkable pathos.
The film succeeds as a stingingly personal missive aimed squarely at Brazil’s right-wing president.
With his latest, S. Craig Zahler doubles down on the best and worst elements of the pulp film.
The film sidesteps all ambiguity, revealing everything about its characters straight away.
It all feels cheap, a far cry from what S. Craig Zahler can do when overseeing both a film’s words as well as its images.
Bart Layton’s American Animals is a heist film at heart, albeit one that hews closely to the historical record.
Rüdiger Suchsland’s film is a master class in the relationship between image production and ideology writ large.
This restoration of Suspiria is revelatory and head-spinning.
Gus Van Sant’s film is admirably unsexy, and a testament to the comedic potential of going sober.
This fiery piece of pulp shrapnel receives a beautifully ugly transfer, along with a handful of negligible supplements.
Brawl in Cell Block 99’s economy of storytelling is as efficiently brutal as the eventual skull-crackings.
Payne’s defenders might call his often acidic touch Swiftian, though it comes off more toothlessly noncommittal.
A daring work in New Queer Cinema, featuring River Phoenix’s greatest performance, receives a subtle yet important visual facelift.
Maddin’s indulgence in esoterica paradoxically leaves the film most vulnerable to the beating heart of this great artist of self-therapy.
The film manages to be a law unto itself even in light of Guy Maddin’s previous oeuvre.
Lars von Trier’s greatest film, by a wide margin, is revealed by Criterion to be even more beautiful than you may have already known.
Double-barreled exploitation fodder of the tawdriest vintage, the film gets the best Blu-ray transfer extant elements will allow, as well as a full clip of extras from Severin Films.