Ad Astra Offers an Aching Examination of Masculinity’s Failures
Ad Astra is an astonishing achievement.
Ad Astra is an astonishing achievement.
But Widows exhibits cosmetic similarities with the heist genre, it resolutely resists generic conventions.
Stop Making Sense builds from a sparse stage and a cassette player into a triumphant, celebratory kaleidoscope of music and backup dancers and ridiculously oversized menswear.
Keaton, Chaplin, Tati, Lloyd – and, now, Paddington Bear.
Call Me By Your Name is less a love story than a cinema of sensation: the tenderness of touch, the sheen of sweat, the cool calm of water.
Terrence Malick’s latest feature, Song to Song, clarifies the experimentation of his previous two films.
The Red Turtle is imbued with the resonant power of a creation myth, thanks to the simple yet expressive animation, the naturalistic sound effects, the swell of the vast ocean.
Moonlight: the poetic breaking through the quotidian in carefully-considered yet intuitive gestures.
Personal Shopper offers a challenging reflection upon identity and spirituality, enriched by Kristen Stewart’s extratextual resonance with its themes. Also, there are ghosts.
This year’s Palme d’Or winner illuminates the injustice of English welfare with slender rays of humour and humanity.