Martin Scorsese
Martin Scorsese’s feverish New York classic remains a master class in urban atmosphere and subjective filmmaking—and a chilling study of how alienation curdles into violent fantasy.
The hefty volume is consistently engaging and informative — a lively, visually appealing guide to one of cinema’s most formidable careers.
The most recent in an apparently boundless reservoir of Beatles documentaries will “please please” their fans.
Two standouts at this year’s Tribeca Film Festival: “Bikechess” and “Made in England: The Films of Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger”.
“Killers of the Flower Moon” is an exercise in kaleidoscopic, cubist storytelling that is, among other things, an epic on the art of the grift.
This shaggy dog story, set in the bowels of Manhattan, in the yet to be gentrified bohemian enclave of SoHo, presented an opportunity for Martin Scorsese to return to bare-bones filmmaking.
For all its cinematic zest and superb acting, The Irishman offers a bleak demonstration of what happens when you sell your soul for too little.
It’s worth pointing out that Martin Scorsese’s documentaries, especially his music-based ones, can be as powerful as his fictional work.
The privilege Edith Wharton’s characters swim in has not disappeared. If anything, it’s expanded farther into the social stratosphere.
Bravura performances are provided by all involved, making Martin Scorsese’s “The Wolf of Wall Street” quite possibly the best film of the year.
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