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Hollywoodland: The Artist
Michel Hazanavicius’ film charms for most of its 90-minute run time, but relies on a number of spectacular scenes to hold aloft a bare-bones plot. The film is, in the end, more of a pastiche than a genuine, heartfelt love-letter to silent cinema. Continue reading
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See this low-budget triumph not because it breaks new ground or because it’s emotionally devastating—it doesn’t, really, and it isn’t—but because its twin lead performances are so fantastically sincere. Continue reading
There’s nothing particularly interesting or exciting about a story this uninspiring told in so relentlessly safe a manner. No wonder Alexander Payne’s comfy new indie finds itself near the top of the heap of Best Picture nominees. Continue reading
Steven Soderbergh, arguably one of the more interesting (and certainly among the most prolific) of modern American directors, attempts to give the virus-outbreak film a new sheen, but give us nothing much worth talking about, and way too many name-actors doing the talking. Continue reading
Justin Kurzel’s début feature, a dramatization of Australia’s most notorious serial-murder crime spree, is exceptionally well-crafted but, at its height, ill-advisedly trades palpable suspense for torture-porn. Continue reading
He may have adored New York City, but with his forty-first feature film—his warmest and most inviting in many years—it’s now clear that Woody Allen probably always wanted to live in Paris in the ’20s (in the rain). Continue reading
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