This quaint self-reflective piece by Oliveira doesn’t always work, but it is an introspective glimpse into the filmmaker’s mind, his life experiences and awareness of his mortality.
This is an extraordinary documentary about an even more astonishing feat of mankind—the landing on the Moon in 1969—primarily using archival footage, some never seen before, as it details the still mind-boggling journey, one suspenseful step at a time.
Truth is the weakest currency in Ridley Scott’s generally solid stab at a Rashomon-esque historical epic set in medieval France during the Hundred Years’ War.
Wakamatsu mixes exploitative sex with subversive politics, but the film doesn’t really compel and is too long-winded.
More educative than cinematic, Herzog’s documentary about technology, particularly the affordances and perils of the Internet, lacks the cutting-edge incisiveness of more well-developed treatises on the subject.
The emerging Georgian filmmaker’s second feature is an entrancing anti-romanticisation of the romance tale, recalling the artful whimsy and playful storytelling of Miguel Gomes.
The third part of Park’s ‘Vengeance’ trilogy explores sin, atonement and poetic justice in the only way he can—through an intricately-plotted narrative, strong visual flair and explicit violence.
Flies the British social realism flag sky-high—this is a remarkably piercing yet sensual work by Andrea Arnold, not to mention featuring a breathtaking performance by Katie Jarvis.
Arnold makes a detour into documentary filmmaking as her camera brings us up close and personal with several cows in a dairy farm, capturing their magnificence as well as the sheer drudgery of their reality.
Certainly not one of Malick’s best, but this extraordinarily beautiful film—in its 172-minute extended cut—sees the director at his most lyrical and self-indulgent.
