Philip Seymour Hoffman had the greatest range of any character actor of his generation, and his filmography is stupendous in both its length and its variety.
'The Invisible Woman' has tact but lacks Dickensian bustle and comedy; 'Gloria' depicts a woman whose way of surviving is to live on the fly.
'Her' focuses on emotional anxieties, asking what happens when companionship and intimacy itself are outsourced to a rapidly evolving machine. What happens to us?
No moviemaker since Sturges has made the din of recrimination as funny as Russell does in 'American Hustle,' while Scorcese dazzles though 'Wolf' goes nowhere.
Judi Dench radiates from a still center, and Emma Thompson confirms that she is the best movie actress in the English-speaking world.
Karen Kilby, Luke Timothy Johnson, and Bernard G. Prusak reassess Terrence Malick's 'The Tree of Life.'
Our problems with 'The Tree of Life' are likewise problems with Malick’s peculiar cinematic language.
There is no mistaking Malick’s theological intentions, nor for that matter the academic credentials he possesses to make such an effort.
One way of understanding Malick's film is as an attempt to present a vision of, precisely, everything.
'Captain Phillips' is thoughtful and electrifyingly exciting; 'All Is Lost' is Sisyphean hopelessness but also a Sisyphean defiance.
In this film slavery creates a hell in which everyone burns—blacks and whites, men and women, victims and victimizers, the well-intentioned and the malevolent.