John Wick Would Like You to Hold His Bullets with Your Face
If John Wick is trying to teach his enemies a lesson, here is what it is: your face is not a secure receptacle for bullets.
If John Wick is trying to teach his enemies a lesson, here is what it is: your face is not a secure receptacle for bullets.
And I quote: “Alex Ross Perry has injected a particular strain of vitality into the New York independent film scene, having made two idiosyncratic features that beat to a relentlessly personal rhythm that is almost shocking in its distinctness.”
Given $50,000, leftover sets from a high school movie, and five days to shoot by American International Pictures, could Roger Corman direct a horror movie?
When Laura Poitras, after receiving encrypted emails from Snowden, came to meet him in Hong Kong with her camera, she did us all an immense favor.
Prepare to get furious for all the wrong reasons.
One half of this film is about the life of Mosab Hassan Yousef, son of a Hamas leader, betrayer of his people, inside-out savior assailant.
This film is perfect for your kids, who, if you didn’t take them to the movies, would likely be down by the river poking some dead thing with a stick.
A penetrating look at what may, or, let’s not be coy here, may not, be the most important 19 minutes in the history of film.
The film is like a wistful fruit, pulverized down to pulp so you can swallow deep and let the juice stain your lips
Calvary pokes your conscience with a stick to see if it’ll twitch. Depending on the answer, you might laugh or get cross. Or both.
The question Blue Ruin brought to mind was something nebulous about what makes a movie “good.” Because, on the one hand, Blue Ruin is in many ways a very good movie. On the other, it’s not really about anything other than being a good movie.
All the while, there behind him, within him, is the cold flint of war scraping relentlessly for a spark.
In which, like the fabled groundhog, Woody Allen emerges to enact his yearly ritual: the presentation of a new movie.
In which Ginger Baker, the original madman drummer, is exhumed for our examination. So to speak.