It is safe to predict that the winner in this category will be one of the entries that squares off against mortality.
Did I try to fit in at my segregated school, betraying my father and his values to be a popular white boy?
Shame on you, Academy, for such feeble, uninspired, downer picks.
Not since Michelangelo Antonioni’s Blow-Up and L’Aventura has there been such a mesmerizing tale of the more you look, the less you find out.
How will PC New Englanders react to seeing nutria gunned down by hunters, and some bashed on their heads to make sure they are dead?
Reading is treated as a commodity, namedropping literary titles as a way for middlebrow film audiences to feel proud of themselves for being in the know.
The Lady from Shanghai is a black comedy of manners, a “film noir” near-masterpiece.
Sylvain Chomet’s sublime 2004 feature is a shimmering, knowing homage to the beginnings of sound animation.
In 1957’s Pal Joey, Rita Hayworth makes an indelible impression as a screen siren, as sexy as in her ’40s heyday.
I made a pledge last week to compromise my movie going, and in a silly, humiliating way.