My mind is busy considering the presence of two distinctly engrossing thrillers of sex and violence set within the adult film industry, one a vividly romantic neo-giallo fairy tale, the other a discomfiting, tragicomic spiral into murder and depravity.
A B-movie par excellence, Greta’s the kind of unhinged and yet fiendishly well-calibrated genre fare that rarely gets afforded the attentions of a director as accomplished as Neil Jordan.
What’s a band of re-orphaned misfits to do? Dance away the pain, obviously.
M. Night Shyamalan turns the trilogy topper he needed to make after Unbreakable and Split into a preposterous group therapy session.
Pledge is Daniel Robbins’ third film, and his first really good one.
We need Blindspotting. It’s an eye-opening, indispensable film, and the year’s crowning artistic achievement.
Roma is Alfonso Cuarón’s gorgeous, neorealist ode to his formative years growing up in ’70s Mexico City, and to the housekeeper he took for granted as she carried him through that tumultuous decade.
This is a sublime little film — an elegantly cross-stitched portrait of an all-American family fracturing under the weight of broken dreams and false promises.
The Clovehitch Killer is a creepy little movie about a creepy little idea, the parasitic kind that worms through the ear canal and eats away at brain matter.
Piercing choreographs its weirdness early and often.