
FACE/OFF (1997)
We have met the enemy and he is me, as I use a MAGA conspiracy theory as an excuse to introduce Nakea to John Woo's preposterous action thriller.
We have met the enemy and he is me, as I use a MAGA conspiracy theory as an excuse to introduce Nakea to John Woo's preposterous action thriller.
As my Independent Study in World Cinema continues, I dive deep into Jean Renoir's tragicomic critique of French society on the eve of the Second World War.
In which I offer quick takes on stuff I've been watching (including Judas and the Black Messiah, Saint Maud, and Clarice), and explain at some length why I won't be writing about Buffy the Vampire Slayer this year after all.
The penultimate episode of Deadwood's first season examines selfishness, sacrifice, and the ongoing problem of shitheels.
This week's blog/newsletter features some labored thoughts on the writing process, and quick takes on The Dig, Malcolm & Marie, The Little Things, I May Destroy You, and other things I've been watching.
Once, Pixar made a movie about talking cars, and it made a lot of money. So, they made another one. Now, they've made a third one.
Heart-warming and soul-crushing in almost equal measures, Ken Loach's new film is a furious, funny, unfailingly humane masterpiece.
Existing at a curious nexus of buddy-comedy and crime-thriller, writer-director Ned Crowley's dark debut feature is uneven but promising.
What could I possible say about Mark Gatiss's writing that I haven't said before? Not a thing, so I'm not even going to try…
Trey Edward Shults both explores and exploits our fears of the unknown, in a stark, harrowing, disturbingly intimate horror film.
Roger Michell's adaptation of du Maurier's novel is a stately exercise in indecision, and something of a cinematic Rorschach test.
Director Gabriela Cowperthwaite and star Kate Mara bring remarkable restraint, sensitivity, and authenticity to a feel-good story about a soldier and her dog.
I don't expect The Mummy to be the worst movie I see all year, but it's a banal mediocrity that bodes ill for Universal's interconnected "monster" franchise.
In "The Lie of the Land," the multi-part story of the Monks comes to an end, with patently ridiculous plotting and sadly diminishing returns.
Comedian Demitri Martin's feature debut is not a completely insufferable movie, but it is a completely insubstantial one.
Sarah Adina Smith's ambitious second feature is a provocative, harrowing, and haunting film, if a slightly too-perfect vehicle for star Rami Malek.
Not since the Blitz has Winston Churchill been forced to suffer through this kind of bombing.
Every generation needs to learn potty humor, slapstick, and a total disregard for authority. Thankfully, Captain Underpants is here to lead the way.
Rest easy, well-wishers—and suck it, haters—Wonder Woman is a major triumph.
The Unaffiliated Critic—somewhat recklessly—announces his plan to see and review every single movie that opens between Memorial Day and Labor Day.
"The Pyramid at the End of the World" presents a familiar conflict: the Doctor vs. God. So this week I'm taking a long look at the treatment of religion in New Who.
Steven Moffat's "Extremis" inspired some thoughts on River Song, death, and the problem of endings in Doctor Who.
Ridley Scott gives up on the incomprehensible mythology of Prometheus, and sadly embraces the uninspired misery of another Alien retread.
"Doctor don't you call me, cause I can't go/ I owe my soul to the company store…" Workers of the world unite behind the Doctor in Peter Mathieson's "Oxygen."
Delivering nothing, saying nothing, and meaning nothing, Mike Bartlett's "Knock Knock" is a forgettable and regrettable hour of Scooby Who.
Some excellent character work elevates a fairly standard "monster-of-the-week" story.
New companion Bill learns what it means to travel with the Doctor—and proves her mettle—in a strong second episode.
It's a brand new season, a delightful new companion, and a welcome new beginning for Doctor Who.
Silly, soulless, and disappointingly executed, Life is an instantly forgettable B-movie dressed up—not very convincingly—to look like a serious production.