Movie Poster of the Week: The Posters of André François
Adrian CurryA look at the other work of Pierre Etaix’s favorite poster designer.
A look at the other work of Pierre Etaix’s favorite poster designer.
Criterion releases Kiss Me Deadly on DVD and Blu-ray today and, for the occasion, they're running an essay by J Hoberman adapted from his book, An Army of Phantoms: American Movies and the Making of
"If there is one aspect of Susan Sontag's multifaceted life that has resisted enshrinement, it is her film career." In the Los Angeles Times, Dennis Lim addresses the impact of her film criticism before
Icons of Suspense: Hammer Films, an "attractively priced (if modestly packaged) three-disc collection from Sony offers six lesser-known, black-and-white thrillers from the studio," and for the New
Along with second screenings of a handful of its offerings, New Directors / New Films introduces four more titles this weekend: Radu Jude's The Happiest Girl in the World, Dima El-Horr's Every Day is
"Revived for a week at Film Forum in an excellent restored print, The Prowler (1951) may be the creepiest of classic noirs," writes J Hoberman in the Voice. "Joseph Losey's hard-to-see third feature
A post-War masterpiece from soon-to-be blacklisted director, Joseph Losey.
Unlike some directors who give up on a bad script or else send it up, one senses that you always try to play fair; but in some of those early British films, one also sense a kind of irony behind their
In London last month I caught a small, fascinating exhibition at the British Film Institute on the collaboration between director Joseph Losey and writer Harold Pinter. This magical alliance yielded
With 1967's Accident, American-born director Joseph Losey, who had been living and working in Europe since the early '50s after fleeing the Hollywood blacklist, seemed to solidify his reputation as a
The first minutes of this picture, the last one Joseph Losey made in the United States, are weirdly bracing in a way that seems unique to late '40s-early '50s noir-inflected B pictures. Young George
I had intended to begin this appraisal of the film by discussing an impulse in late '60s British cinema (and, to a lesser extent, literary fiction; c.f. Fowles' The French Lieutenant's Woman) to break