A truly entertaining and dizzyingly wild horror film.

Listen Up Philip is big, sprawling and tortured, if a little lacking in focus – while funny in parts, it isn’t really a comedy.

Teller manages a careful enough balance between painstaking technique and a larger cultural context over 80 brisk minutes to make even minor revelations feel like major moments.

With a jaunty musical score by Alexandre Desplat and a pleasant visual style aided by Marco Onorato’s colorful cinematography, Garrone delivers a story that’s part fairy tale, part religious allegory and part scathing indictment.

Snappy heist film that keeps changing the rules of a mystery so that one is never sure whose hands are at the controls.

That Nichols is able to orchestrate this entire journey with steady tension and lyrical imagery is a testament to his storytelling capabilities.

A fantastic, sleek and fun satire.

Steady-handed action is enough to elevate this film above its predecessor.

A delight to the eye, ear, and mind

A dark film that raises more questions than it answers -- and it's meant to.

The film doesn’t come into focus contextually until the closing moments, but as the bullets fly the rhythm is established right from the outset.

We’re given fairly straightforward talking-head accounts complemented with an increasing amount of archival material as the narrative progresses further towards the present, all coated in a VH1-suited slickness that belies the reported funk of the studio itself. Fortunately, that slickness is in service of tales from some substantial musicians.

What director Aviva Kempner has done is shine a light into the past and recover a classic American hero, one with all the integrity, decency and largeness of spirit that we have been taught makes up the American character.

A difficult, ambiguous film.

Writer/director David Mamet, who's built a career in both theater and film by being a hyper-manly sort of writer, has crafted a film that is laugh out loud funny and dinner-conversation smart.

The Punk Singer is a perfect storm. It is a love letter to Kathleen Hanna, to feminism, and to the fans, but it’s also just a damn good movie.

The Trip to Italy is plenty enjoyable for fans of the first one and these two, but by the end, it also has the consistency of reheated comfort food.

(Owen's) existential angst and the interesting layers of character and setting give Croupier a sharp, engaging edge.

This is independent acting (and movie-making) at its best -- true, tight, anything but trite.

Part of the appeal of John Irving's writing is its sense of bounty, the way the world is offered up as a horn of plenty. The Cider House Rules movie, by contrast, feels narrowed down to small slices of experience.

If you're in the mood for fairy tales, you've come to the right place.