Hysterical and touching, Eighth Grade is easily one of my top films of the year, and rewatching it on Blu-ray was just as satisfying as the theatrical experience. The jokes still land, and the loose structure of the film makes it inherently rewatchable.
Despite admirable performances from Jonah Hill and Joaquin Phoenix, Don’t Worry, He Won’t Get Far on Foot is a mediocre entry in Gus Van Sant’s filmography, something his fans are no doubt used to as of late, and a sad Blu-ray edition that simply isn’t worth a purchase.
For the fourth iteration of a tale as old as talkies, Bradley Cooper decided to give audiences a deeply self-indulgent piece of Oscar bait. With a two-and-a-half-hour runtime that feels like eight, the film shows flashes of brilliance and sincerity that are, unfortunately, overshadowed by Bradley Cooper’s ego trying to prove he’s not just that guy from The Hangover anymore.
Jonah Hill’s directorial debut, Mid90s, presents a compelling coming-of-age story about a young kid who befriends a local group of skaters who provide him a much-needed support system but, in doing so, expose him to a treasure trove of experiences that a child of that age has no business engaging in.
The serious, real-life cruelties occurring at America’s southern border, and the encroaching darkness of the last couple of years, make this an apt time for genre films to add to the discourse and perhaps provide some escape.
Good intentions mean a lot and Gold would know more about the disabled Hollywood experience than any of us, but this does not make her film any less better structured or clear in its overall intention. I applaud her for wanting to open up the conversation, but opening it up does not go far enough, especially when we have known the conversation has existed long before Gold's film came to be.
Alex Ross Perry’s latest and most caustic film yet, Her Smell, is an exhausting journey into the shattered mind of a riot-grrrl rocker on a downward spiral of substance abuse that too often tags along with fame.
It’s easy to poke fun at Appalachia and its denizens, disregarding them as simple-minded white trash with a lack of culture, but the more we ostracize and belittle a group of people, the more divided we become as a nation. This is something we’ve done far too much of as of late, and maybe this film will encourage us all to be more tolerant of others, even those considered hillbillies.
In spite of some unfortunate acting and a painfully predictable gentrification-versus-the-locals storyline, Shine is beautifully shot; packs quite a punch for its comparably small size; oozes Puerto-Rican pride; and, ultimately, does exactly what it set out to do, with the high-energy vibe somewhat making up for the roughness around its edges.
Matangi/Maya/M.I.A. is a fascinating look at one of the most relentlessly talented and unique musicians working today, and the film fits the artist. It’s raw, candid and brings with it a narrative that’s both energetic and important.
The Day of The Jackal is a tense and impeccably crafted political thriller that holds up to modern viewing, especially now that it’s received the Arrow Video treatment and has been released on Blu-ray.
The film’s greatest asset is its ability to convey the lively spirit of the conversations without feeling selective or artificially emphasizing points, beyond spare bursts of archival footage or the occasional question posed from Michell himself.
Though it puts a strong foot forward, the more I Think We're Alone Now and Del opens up to you the more predictable and meandering its vision of unconventional friendships for the end of the world becomes.