The festival’s triumph was Harmonia, a culture-hopping orchestra melodrama of paradoxically modest tone.
This disc’s picture and sound presentations are aces. You’ll want the lights down low for this one.
Criterion’s heavyweight disc is a major release for the label that may pass through the market square without much fanfare.
The premise of the film is simple, but it’s a simplicity that can only attract complications.
NBC’s Hannibal ran for three seasons, but its concept called for at least twice as many.
Russell proposes that there may be no real barrier between the caustic worldview he wears and the sense of childlike wonder he sells.
What pushes the film, at long last, into the icy river, is its very design, as a monument to slick, mercenary grandeur.
The filmmaker discusses cinephilia, cinema technique, and the deceptive simplicity of Carol’s romantic pas de deux.
It will stress you out, but it won’t leave you in a fetal position. Compared to most of his filmography, this is “happy Haneke.”
Frederick Wiseman’s documentary grasps the powerful distinction between a neighborhood and a community.
To hear him speak about his process and his professionalism, you wouldn’t think he’d skipped a beat since Flight of the Red Balloon.
In order to make the walk, and in order for it to matter to him, Philippe Petit has to comprehend it as real and impossible.
The film goes in for the idea of texture, tics, and human behavior, but there’s no conviction, and no real push for eccentricity.
Stillman’s “urban haute bourgeoisie” are redeemed because the filmmaker takes custody of them, their idiosyncrasies, their flaws.
Criterion’s Blu-ray release goes lean on supplemental material, but rewards with stellar picture and sound presentation.
Writer-director Paul Harrill’s Something, Anything turns what at first appears as Kodak moments into a study of a soul in transition.
We may try to make the old things new, but we had one Ernst Lubitsch, he’s long gone, and we aren’t getting another one.
One may feel mildly insulted by the presumptuous attitude the film seems to choose as it sends us on our way.
As funny and batshit insane as the movie often is, the fact that 22 Jump Street knows it’s a tiresome sequel doesn’t save it from being a tiresome sequel.
A good platter for a great, underappreciated classic of British cinema—light on supplements but strong in presentation.