At the Film Society of Lincoln Center in New York last week some of us were lucky enough to enjoy Pomegranates: Like a Phoenix from the Ashes, a fascinating compilation of rare film clips, commercials
No film review will be read more eagerly this week than Scott Foundas's piece for the cover of the September/October issue of Film Comment. Facebook, he writes — and he's not on it, by the way
The Viennale (October 21 through November 3) has announced its first round of features and documentaries, but more interesting for now are the tributes and special programs. There'll be a tribute, for
A rug, at the feet of Linda Marlowe, in Stephen Dwoskin's Girl (1975), cinematography by Dwoskin.
Thom Andersen's 34-minute Get Out of the Car, slated for screenings at the Toronto and New York Film Festivals, is the filmmaker's response to his own previous film, Los Angeles Plays Itself, notes
"No more Lubitsch," said Billy Wilder, at the Great Man's funeral. "Worse than that," said William Wyler. "No more Lubitsch movies." The suspicion, amounting almost to a certainty, that Jacques Rivette
On Monday, the New York Film Festival, running September 24 through October 10, unveiled its main slate. Today sees the announcement of two Masterworks series and a generous round of Special Events
The Film Society of Lincoln Center is touting The Sign of Rohmer, opening this afternoon with a screening of Eric Rohmer's debut feature, The Sign of Leo (1959; Richard Brody has a capsule review in
Above: Antony Cordier’s Happy Few. David has been doing an excellent job rounding up information on the films that will premiere at the 67th Venice Film Festival (see here, here, here, and here). Here
How ready are we for August to loosen its grip and let September get on with it already? The Hollywood Reporter's Jay A Fernandez's making anxious guesses as to what'll screen at Telluride (September
In the Los Angeles Times, Dennis Lim writes that Maurice Pialat's first feature film, L'enfance nue (Naked Childhood, 1968), "out on DVD this week from the Criterion Collection, can be seen as a companion
I cannot remember a time in my life during which I did not believe that Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho was in some fundamental way a perfect fim. I should not have to point out here that I am not calling