"As is the case with several films in this year's New York Film Festival, Michael Haneke's The White Ribbon exemplifies the pleasures and drawbacks of auteurism," begins Eric Hynes in Reverse Shot
“Do you take advantage of the new freedoms?” asks the sensualist next door in the Coens’ A Serious Man. Henri-Georges Clouzot did. Inflamed by the success of 8½, the French veteran set out in 1964 to
“An open mind is advised,” claim the (typically, very funny) trailers for this year’s Vancouver International Film Festival, but I will admit that I brought my preconceptions – and a nasty case of jet
Artificial Eye's recent release, on two separate discs, of Jacques Rivette's 1994 two-part film on (obviously) two parts of the life of Joan of Arc, ought to qualify as a major cinephilic event. But
Spike Jonze and Wes Anderson, born just months apart in 1969, have both adapted classic children's books this year. Anderson, who often frames his meticulously arranged sets as if they were pages from
"For all its flights of cinematic fantasy," begins Andrew Schenker in Slant, "the dominant note struck by A Room and a Half, Andrey Khrzhanovsky's recreation-cum-fantasia of the life of poet Joseph
Pretty pictures are one thing, good movies another. Two features at Abu Dhabi—Özcan Alper’s feature film debut Autumn and Ciro Guerra’s second film, The Wind Journeys—showcase growing visual talent
The Girl on the Train: a title like a "missed connections" posting. And the girl (Émilie Dequenne) really is lovely. She's got hair like Solveig Dommartin and a tiny tattoo on her left shoulder blade
As the New York Film Festival closes tonight with Pedro Almodóvar's Broken Embraces, I should note that there's still a handful of entries on films screened at this year's event in the works and that
(1) (2) One thing follows another... (1) Making out triggers a nightmare triggers disintegration triggers the vortex opening, like a mouth, to swallow the world. (2) One
Carving out an identity as a film festival is harder than ever these days. In the States, highly local and niche film festivals compete for audiences and seem unable to form a reputation outside of
"[T]he film biz in post-imperial, post-Tony Blair Britain is riding a hot streak, cranking out splashy, stylish, audience-friendly flicks that bear no resemblance to the fusty, fussy, Jane Austen-in