See the Baron dance with Venus! See a man outrun a speeding bullet!
This lavishly over-the-top and notoriously expensive oddity is essentially a compilation of Monty Python gags and storybook adventure.
We’re entering into this conversation coming from antithetical perspectives.
This tactless dud plays out like a more one-sided, special effects-laden rendition of The Break-Up.
It’s hard to envision a worse big-budget film version of Mel Brooks’s Tony Award-winning musical The Producers than this dreadfully lifeless affair.
The film seems to have been made so that writer-director Ben Younger can shoot all of his favorite sites in New York City.
This bumbling exercise in redundant replication is as disagreeably lukewarm as a heavily trafficked municipal baby pool.
The deleted scene included on this DVD is sure to whet everyone’s whistle until the inevitable two-film box set arrives.
Skip this one and pop in that Criterion edition of Hard-Boiled for the real deal.
Tarantino’s Kill Bill saga concludes with a profound and challenging second volume that is sure to be divisive.
It’s a film that inspires audio-visual overloaded. Pity that it gets a video transfer here that nearly inspires blindness.
Both director and lead seem sluggish, unable to flex their necessary creative muscles.
The film’s constant bloodletting is more desensitizing than provocative.
Quentin Tarantino’s second feature is at once ridiculously entertaining and remarkably weightless.
Sans Tarantino commentary track, this may not be the definitive edition of the film, but it certainly comes close.
Not for the faint of heart, Chelsea Walls arrives just in time for anyone hankering for a really hot Beatnik summer.
Nicole Burdette’s screenplay is less concerned with engaging the spirits of the past than it is with, well, blowing hot air.
By virtue of existing on celluloid, Tape is cinematic.