Pleasure to Burn: Capotondi Returns with Entertaining Neo-Noir
Murder really can be turned into art, it seems, in Giuseppe Capotondi’s return to narrative filmmaking with...
Enduring Love & Fading Memories: Disappointingly Competent Road Movie Via Virzì
Heavyweights Helen Mirren and Donald Sutherland take center stage in this mildly entertaining dramedy about...
To Kill a Mockingjay: Lawrence Brings YA Franchise to Inevitable Denouement
The last tony gasp of Suzanne Collins’ celebrated Hunger Games franchise is steered, at...
Criterion brings British auteur Nicolas Roeg’s most famous title to the fold, 1973’s enigmatic Don’t Look Now, a title that has influenced generations of...
Busy Signals: Stone’s Aptly Named Thriller Phones It In
There is not anything innately offensive about a really decent made-for-TV thriller, especially the type based...
The thrill of meeting Marjane Satrapi reminded me of being 6 years old at Disney Land when I met the living, breathing Cinderella. Except Cinderella was an actress with a blond wig and Marjane is the real woman behind her autobiographical graphic novel, turned movie, “Persepolis”. The distinctive mole on her nose and her dark sultry eyes rose off the page and appeared in front of me, smoking and speaking with a French accent.