Notebook Reviews: Rafi Pitts’s “The Hunter”
Fernando F. CrocePitts’s visual control ensures that the divide between institutionalized injustice and personal revenge remains volatile, thorny terrain
Pitts’s visual control ensures that the divide between institutionalized injustice and personal revenge remains volatile, thorny terrain
All of Spielberg’s sumptuous pomp and sweep add up to little more than an inflated equine remake of Lassie Come Home.
A pair of decathlons for quasi-superhero protagonists that briefly come alive as spot-the-auteur games.
Lynne Ramsay’s third feature is a mishmash of soiled diapers, leaden musical cues and underlined soul-sickness,
This restless phantasmagoria is fond, melancholy and not quite serene.
Samuel Fuller in Japan, like tabloid ink sprayed on kakejiku scrolls.
Blockbuster apes and low-budget aliens in a double-bill of subtext-rich science fiction.
A striking debut suspended between low-key, Sundance relationship drama and hyper-saturated, ’70s-style grindhouser.
Arguably the strangest study of artistic and parental anxiety since Eraserhead.
The sci-fi masterpiece, part “Alphaville”, part Fritz Lang, part “The Matrix”, yet wholly original.
Framed in a close shot, college students go about their business around a Xerox machine when a spray of bullets suddenly rips into the image. Polytechnique, Denis Villeneuve's 2009 fictionalized account
"Visual, therefore visceral," snaps John Malkovich in Transformers: Dark of the Moon as some sort of wacky Michael Bay proxy, a conglomerate martinet who screams at his crew, checks out the leading lady