Zemeckis' lesser known films provide a context for the director’s consistent style—as well as that style's consistent variability.
The film's border setting acts as a suitable metaphor: the War on Drugs transgresses boundaries not only physical but also moral, and the audience feels the weight of these transgressions with every passing minute.
For the first in a series of Animated Streaming Picks, Kyle Johnson reviews Francisco Trueba's visually and sonically resplendent jazz romance.
Because the tone and content of her writing were so personal, Ephron’s success paradoxically depended on her carefully curated public image. While everything is copy, it’s only copy when she wants it to be, and her power lies in that distinction between open and secret.
With each narrative reveal, one gets the creeping sense that Pierre, too, by virtue of his very infidelity, his childish behavior, his destructive impulses, lives in the shadow of the woman he’s betraying.
Jia doesn’t leave the character of China's transformations to the audience's imagination. Tao’s son is given the name Dollar. “I will make you lots of money,” his dad whispers to the child.
Straddling thresholds of genre, style, and class, Blow Out challenges the seemingly dichotomous relationship between popular low-budget movies and esoteric Hollywood films.
It’s like gawking at Whistler’s Mother in the Mussée D’Orsay while Whistler himself stands over your shoulder and talks to you about it.
It is extremely engaging to witness Brian’s descent into madness and his recovery from it side by side. The pacing is excellent—although the film builds towards two separate climaxes, they seemingly progress as one.
Dorsky and Hiler know the value of absence, of dark space—the film artist’s equivalent of the painter’s blank canvas, or the writer’s blank page.