Roland Emmerich’s film is an interesting case in that it may very well be its director’s best work; however, a better director is the one thing it surely needed.
Anonymous leaves one bereft of any meaningful knowledge of its central personages or the theatrical energy of their age.
Larysa Kondracki’s film is a grim muckraking docudrama of sex trafficking in postwar Bosnia.
Cars 2, even more than its predecessor, is the Pixar movie that’s safe to hate.
Star Turns: Vanessa Redgrave and James Earl Jones in Driving Miss Daisy and Jan Maxwell in Wings
Star wattage seems to be the new energy source powering Broadway.
Robinson in Ruins’s narration fosters a healthy fascination with the subjectivity of the image and the film’s relation to the rampant machine of “progress.”
Sometimes the commentary illuminates an image, providing historical context or enlivening it with a humorous aside.
Regardless of what you may think of Ken Russell’s movies, the English iconoclast filmmaker is without doubt a true original.
One would think the presence of the regal Vanessa Redgrave might at least moderately enhance Letters to Juliet’s wine-country schmaltz.
Not my cup of tea. I don’t even like tea.
Like so many Merchant-Ivory films, Howards End is a luxurious frame without a picture.
As far as Christmas films go, you could do much worse than How About You.
Wright’s Atonement insipidly rewards those who blush whenever they think about a lady’s jewels.
Ruby Dee may be the only one that generates honest goodwill with a titanic slap worthy of the category’s “season vet” slot.
Joe Wright overlooks the class divisions that haunt the nooks and crannies of McEwan’s novel.
Evening’s pseudo-intellectual tone hardly disguises its presumptions about female identity.
Looking at the poster for Venus, one could be forgiven for thinking that the end was near.
Venus is a cleverly written but somewhat muffled paean to sensual appetite.
Unlike most action films, Mission: Impossible’s distinct appeal operates not so much on suspense but on improbability.
Kayvan Mashayekh’s inquisitive debut feature risks being overshadowed by its troubled production history.