The film preaches a familiar strain of cynical, unchallenged self-righteousness in the face of widespread abuse of civil liberties.
Wayne Kramer thankfully refuses to cloak his excessiveness in hedge-betting self-consciousness and the result is a gratifyingly disreputable B-movie blow out.
Sony doesn’t do much to spruce up their original, excellent transfer of Sonnenfeld’s big, fun monster movie, but the product remains a worthy one.
The film comes across as a promotional showcase for a gaggle of young up-and-coming singer-actors.
The film has none of its spiritual predecessors’ wit, verve, or morally conflicted perspective on its subjects.
The film arrives on Blu-ray with a befittingly humble and loving audio and visual transfer.
Staten Island has the stench of meat left on the counter for too long.
In its constant and irreversible violence, Full Metal Jacket, one of Kubrick’s grittiest works, is also one of his most resonant.
A hyper-violent, foul-mouthed war movie that outpaces Apocalypse Now, Platoon, and a dozen others for sheer motive force.
Paradoxes run rampant throughout The Break-Up.
Depp strikes me as the sort of actor who always swings for the fences, even when a bunt would suffice.
The real delusion is the film’s belief that anyone talks, thinks, or behaves like its oh-so-quirky cast of well-meaning crazies.
Not for the faint of heart, Chelsea Walls arrives just in time for anyone hankering for a really hot Beatnik summer.
The film feeds on the imagination of children and relishes the joy they find in creation.
Nicole Burdette’s screenplay is less concerned with engaging the spirits of the past than it is with, well, blowing hot air.