What is it that draws us to nature-based survival tales? Is it a weird sort of schadenfreude where we find it thrilling to watch someone we do not know experiences things we probably could not face?
“Life of Party,” like the recently released “Avengers: Infinity War” before it, ends up interrogating the critic who deigns to write about it.
The weapon of choice for Joe, the hitman protagonist in Lynne Ramsay’s “You Were Never Really Here,” is a hammer.
“I Feel Pretty” ended up being a last minute choice at the cinema this week.
encounterOne of the oddest pieces I read this week about “Avengers: Infinity War” was that it was an example of experimental cinema instead of a blockbuster.
In France, the home of the Cannes Film Festival, films released in theatres cannot be streamed until a 36 month window passes.
The very last moment in John Krasinski’s “A Quiet Place” rests on the deployment of a sound cue that made me want to stand up and cheer, even amidst the troubling implications it raised.
The new romantic comedy “Love, Simon” is all about symmetry. This is a well-ordered world where everyone exists in a state that is not perfect, but rarely uncertain.
Anyone looking for something diverting to see over the weekend should head to Amazon or iTunes to stream the new digital release “The Death of Stalin.” The film builds itself on paradoxes that are both intratextual and extratextual.
“Game Night” is the best example of counterprogramming in the cinema right now and it looks likely to be that way until probably May, assuming it remains in theatres.
Critiquing the critics is my least favourite thing about criticism, but here we are.
With the Oscars all handed out, it’s just about time to bid 2017 film year adieu.
How does one even begin to talk about “Black Panther”? The question has been turning over in my head since I saw the movie in a packed theatre last week.
“The Shape of Water” features a beautiful original score but the most significant musical motif of the film is found in the past.
Although we’re well into the second month of 2018, the film world at large is still experiencing arrested development.
As much as Michael Anthony’s “Green Days by the River” has turned into a symbolic text of colonial life in Trinidad and Tobago, the story will always depend more on its value as a coming-of-age tale more than anything else.
Steven Spielberg’s recently released film “The Post” is a very particular kind of “culturally relevant message film.” Any critic who has written anything about it in the last month since its release is aware of it.
There is a key scene in “Darkest Hour” that will either make or break the film for viewers.
There’s something paradoxical about a 21st century film musical and even more so about “The Greatest Showman,” which is not the best or worst representation of what musicals are in 2017.
“All the Money in the World,” the recent Ridley Scott drama, is perhaps the darkest film I’ve seen from 2017.
I went into “Molly’s Game” knowing much nothing about it beyond the fact that it was written by directed by Aaron Sorkin, in his directorial debut, and that it starred Jessica Chastain and Idris Elba.
“Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle” bills itself as a standalone sequel, a descriptor that seems immediately counterintuitive though it is immediately intrinsic to 21st century blockbusters.
“Patti Cake$,” a 2017 film about an overweight white woman’s quest to become a rap star in the slums of New Jersey has garnered immediate comparisons to “Hustle & Flow” and “8 Mile”.
Last week’s column on “A Ghost Story” had me thinking about representations of loneliness on screen.
Who invented the bedsheet ghost? The image of a ghost marked by donning a white sheet with holes for eyes is a classic and familiar concept.
“Mudbound” is a film that will be sold on its relevance. Its socio-political significance.
“Beach Rats,” the winner of the best director award at this year’s Sundance film festival, is a filmic bildungsroman.
I made the potentially problematic decision, to screen Sidney Lumet’s 1974 adaptation of “Murder on the Orient Express” a few days after watching the recent 2017 Kenneth Branagh directed version.
Terence Davies has never met an opportunity for a tableau vivant he did not like.
“The Past” opens at an airport. We watch a reunion between two people.
“The Mountain Between Us” is a film that ends up just where you expect it to.
I have often had the argument with myself, and with others, about what should be expected from purported film “genres.” I say purported because two of the most problematic “genres” for me are the musical and the animated film.
There’s a scene in Jane Campion’s “Bright Star” that I use very often when discussing art and our relationship with it.
At the end of the month, there will be a television anniversary that may not be significant to many.
Earlier this month when Donald Glover won the Emmy Award for Best Actor in a Comedy Series (his second that night), he quipped, “I want to thank Trump for making black people number one on the most oppressed list.
“Who drew the dicks?” This is the narrative hook on which Netflix’s new mockumentary comedy “American Vandal” rests.
Visual-media of the eighties seems to have a stranglehold on coming-of-age pre-teen films, don’t they?
The romantic comedy “The Big Sick” did not open in cinemas in Guyana, which seemed particularly odd.
Early on in Perry Henzell’s “The Harder They Come,” the film establishes itself as firmly aware of the cultural and cinematic context from which it emerges.
The new film “Atomic Blonde” is a hyperaware, pop-version of the excellent 2011 adaptation of the John le Carré Cold War spy novel “Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy.” For history and philosophy enthusiasts, the Cold War, with its dependence on subterfuge and paranoia, is a historical key to understanding the dubiousness of modern political affairs.
The very last moment we see the main characters in “Girls Trip” has been playing on a loop in my brain since I saw it.
In mid-July, HBO released a brief press release about “Confederate,” an upcoming show from David Benioff and D.B.
I left “Dunkirk” with the word “liminality” on the tip of my tongue.
I kept experiencing a kind of cognitive dissonance while watching War for the Planet of the Apes, the last film in the rebooted trilogy.
Sofia Coppola’s new film, The Beguiled, begins like a fairy tale. The intertitle, pink and evocative, announce the time as three years into the American Civil War, we are in Virginia.
From its opening, Spider-Man: Home-coming announces that it places emphasis on youth. Its first shot is a crayon drawing of The Avengers.
I remember reading Roger Ebert’s review of Midnight Cowboy for a class on American film.
Today marks the beginning of the second half of the year. 2017 has been a chaotic year in political and cultural terms but the arts continue to trudge on, offering a wealth of material to examine in these turbulent times.
This past week the Star Wars franchise was in some brief trouble. Phil Lord and Chris Miller, the directors of the yet to be titled Han Solo film, were abruptly fired from the project with a few weeks of shooting left.
Few words are spoken in Adero, the new short film from Guyanese filmmaker Kojo McPherson.