Film
No woman, I’m willing to bet, could have filmed the sex scenes in Red Rocket. She would have cracked up laughing or thrown up.
More homages to 1971’s magnificent bursts of cinematic iconoclasm, from McCabe & Mrs. Miller to The Music Lovers and Walkabout.
Fans will be pleased that time around director Wes Anderson has shot off everything in his stylistic quiver.
Jacques Cousteau’s journey, from wannabe pilot to protector of the seas, is chronicled in a new documentary.
One of the great strengths of this Dune is that it humanizes its protagonists. They are detailed human characters, which makes their assuming the mask of the White Savior all the more troubling.
Bergman Island is a curious, intelligent film that suffers from a disappointing breakdown.
With my customary determination and pluck, I’ve been able to get access to plenty of films at the London Film Fest that cover a broad spectrum of genres, budgets, and nations.
Reviews of Todd Haynes’s documentary The Velvet Underground, Bruno Dumont’s France, a satire-drama about the news industry, and Nature, Artavazd Peleshian’s graceful parade of natural disasters.
Jim Marshall fought off all sorts of personal demons while also managing to be in the right place at the right time to get some iconic music photos.
Two divergent works of theater for the screen were at this year’s NYFF, an adaptation of Macbeth in black and white, and a raunchy sleeper from Romania.
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