Minor Kurosawa, starring Toshiro Mifune as an aging, Lear-like businessman whose fear of impending nuclear war tears his family apart. Rather a surprising misfire; while nuclear anxiety was and remains a timely subject, this talky family drama never really taps into the full tragic potential of the subject. Strong performances by Mifune and Takashi Shimura, who played the dying man in the director's immortal "Ikiru."

Cheapie film noir about a guy who dreams he commits a murder and wakes up to find evidence that maybe he did. Acting, script, direction all pretty dreadful. Mostly interesting for surreal touches by way of Spellbound-era Hitchcock, and because it was the film debut of DeForest Kelley (Bones from Star Trek). At 71 minutes, though, it's relatively painless.

Loved it -- but haven't fully processed it yet. I think I need to see it again.

Sublime as ever; a literate and literary love story about youth, beauty, aging and ego, and the way desire can still control you just when you think you have it under control. An incredibly sexy film for the mind.

A wonderfully spirited free-form romp on the dual subjects of sex and politics, a manifesto of erotic socialism, and far more revolutionary than "Last Tango in Paris" ever dreamed of being.

It sounds like typical mumblecore oatmeal: recent college graduate Aura comes home, can't figure out her next move, can't get her family to care, can't get anyone to fall in love with her. And yet, this immensely accomplished and brave debut, written and directed by from Lena Dunham, who also stars, is a charmer from the get-go: a witty and sincere film that never sells itself short or gives into sentimentality.

This is the opposite of a feel-good teen sex comedy. The ending is memorably sour.

The problem with Beeswax isn't that it focuses on everyday details. Many artists (Ozu, Leigh, Jarmusch) do just that, but they make it matter. Beeswax, by contrast, is boring as a dog's ass. It never takes off, and the people in it are annoying as hell. They're those types whose every statement sounds like a question. I sat wishing an asteroid would take out the whole twee, self-absorbed, preening lot.

How in the world do you find it? I've wanted to watch it for years!

I agree with Dbainy. Why did the husband have to laugh it off, remind people that it's just a story? I guess it was so people could leave the theater and not be traumatized. The story is so dark that maybe the producer or distributor (or some outside hand) figured you had to pat people on the head at the end, and it does undercut the effectiveness a bit.

No one concocts sadistic, gory revisionist wet dreams like Quentin Tarantino.

Tenure track wannabe Larry Gopnik is a modern-day Job who finds any number of reasons to question the ways of the Almighty, as home, job and family all begin to turn on him. The truth is found to be lies, and all the joy within him dies. An excellent cast rounds out this existentialist morality tale -- which, when you think about it, is something of a trend with the Coen Brothers.

All spectacle and no engagement. All explosions and no suspense. A coulda-been-juicy update capsized by its own trickery.

Tremendously entertaining crowd-pleaser. I loved it. It reminded me of "Blow Out," "E.T.," the first Indiana Jones, and the first part of "Kill Bill" -- all of which had that same roller-coaster element. Once it was over, I wanted to get back on again. I hope I can swing another showing before it leaves the theater.

The best thing that can be said is that it's not as predictable as it could be. A painter meets a well-known singer, the two are photographed in a compromising situation, and a tabloid flames a scandal. When the painter sues for libel, the moves does a 180; it's no longer about the irresponsibility of the press, but the redemption of a broken down attorney. A compelling, sentimental, frustrating work from the master.

It's tough being broke and in love in postwar Japan; reality is always getting between you and your dream. So it is withYuzo and his financée, Masako, who try to make the most of the one day of the week they have together. Poverty has eaten deep into Yuzo's morale, but Masako is a powerful yin to his yang: upbeat and imaginative. Kurosawa asks the world of his two actors in this light, tight drama, and gets it

This is where it all begins falling apart for Fellini.

Just saw it. Fairly interesting and intelligent until the last five minutes. Chabrol has a good story, just no ending.

Drug porn. The only movie I know of where I was actually happy that a guy got his arm amputated. Repetitive, annoying, unpleasant.

A multi-episode story of love and marriage that repeatedly asks just what it is that holds people together.

The greatest film of the 1970s, and an extraordinarily prescient look at how political campaigns are packaged and sold, and how the thin line between politics and entertainment will be erased altogether.

Talk about a good one to go out on. It was Charles Laughton's first film and did so poorly at the box office that he was never allowed to make another. At least he made a classic.

All I remember about it are Gore Vidal and Anais Nin and someone crawling on a table.

Unequaled.

Like his peer Bunuel, Hitchcock delivers a hypnotic dream about an obscure object of desire.

Kubrick's final embarrassment.

Well, I think it is a film about film, really -- a film about the process of its own making, as someone described it once. It's about Fellini. It's about the artistic imagination, and the way an artist transforms the people in his life into the figures of his art. I don't think it really has much to do with humanity as a whole, but there's no reason it should. There's no sin in a film being about film.