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.
Womanizing Astaire grasps that Rita is the loveliest catch of all, and a keeper, in this musical treat.
Tony Zierra’s film is a worthy and interesting one, but I admit to becoming worn down by the endless litany of unglamorous ways that protagonist Leon Vitali worked his butt off for the genius filmmaker.
Let the Sunshine In is French filmmaker Claire Denis’s one-note ode to the power of love even when, in this case, love stinks like dead fish.
Claire’s Camera is enjoyable and charming, but it’s definitely minor Hong, made on a lark at Cannes.
Food porn? You know it when you see it.
Red Sparrow isn’t great in any way, but, at two hours and twenty minutes, we do get our money’s worth of old-school genre entertainment.
The film becomes a made-for-TV trial melodrama, with actors delivering oratorical speeches and the plot spinning several times with contrived, made-to-shock revelations.
Could Dorothy Malone be the only person in the world to have dated both Sinatra and Liberace?