A very loose, social realist adaptation of the Oscar Wilde short story of the same name, Clio Barnard’s tale of two boys ― Conner Chapman and Shaun Thomas, as Arbor and Swifty ― suspended from school and working as scrap metal collectors for an unscrupulous, ill-tempered breaker (Sean Gilder) is a vital and accomplished fiction debut.
Set in and around a working class Brooklyn bar used by the mob to launder illicit cash, The Drop is an unusually focused crime thriller.
Interstellar is ultimately more effective at stirring hearts than stimulating the cerebrum.
Set Fire to the Stars is obviously a passion project of Jones’ hampered by its minimal budget.
The Skeleton Twins approaches lofty issues with a tragicomic tone that has become the staple of the American indie scene.
the film lacks the kind of tenacity and range needed to support the character at its core, in spite of André Benjamin’s terrific lead performance.
What is it that compelled the general public to fund Zach Braff’s Kickstarter for a second directorial feature, to bring to bear like the Officer of Kafka’s penal colony the bladed machinery of an elaborate torture instrument against their own flesh, while the scars from 2004’s execrable Garden State had still barely yet healed?
With its variation on the set-up from 1950s noir Shakedown, Nightcrawler ostensibly casts a critical eye on relationship between violence and the media.
A movie for children that spends most of its running time dealing in the post-millennial banalities of modern parenting and job-hunting
Fury aims at an existential and theological questioning of war, but achieves merely empty thrills.
Coppola charts this teenage nightmare in American Apparel pastels, her woozy and naturalist aesthetic stumbling and crossfading in tune with her characters.
Unfortunately, Serena delivers a film negative of what it attempts to encapsulate…
The Judge is a bumbling, bloated mass of clichés that plays like an obscenely high-budget rendering of a made-for-TV movie.
The film begins when J.M.W. Turner (Timothy Spall) is already the toast of the town: wealthy, famous and able to do as he pleases.
Twenty-something Zach is in mourning after the death of his girlfriend. Riddled by guilt, it’s no surprise he latches on to the possibility that she’s still alive.
In the decade following WW II Violette Leduc (Emmanuelle Davos), portrayed here as a troubled but resourceful woman, found her voice.
In a film that looks sumptuous and carefully crafted, it also suffers from stifled performances which are probably the product of a half-cooked script.
The press screening for Holocaust documentary Night Will Fall was hampered by a technical difficulty.
David Cronenberg fell off so long ago that he no longer even knows what it feels like to be on top.
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