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The Santa Clause 2 has Tim Allen standup, cartoon reindeer, and romantic play-pretend. But it feels like Christmas. Let me explain why I keep watching it.
Saint Maud is a confident debut from a promising filmmaker, but its self-imposed genre tropes become limitations that hold it back from greatness.
Another trailer for The Batman encouraged me to write down my thoughts, both my anticipation and misgivings, about Matt Reeves' latest take on the Dark Knight.
The White Reindeer is equal parts history, horror, and fairytale - a myth of innocence, in a landscape of snow and terror.
Meet Me in St. Louis is hope and happiness in movie form, using sorrow and shadows and more joy than usually fits in ten movies. It is Christmas, to me.
White Christmas never fails to put me in the Christmas spirit, with a bit of finagling. It wears the season (and its production woes) on its satin sleeve.
With First Man, Damien Chazelle takes us to space and still thinks the most important things are the ones we left behind. The best film of 2018.
Brooklyn is a well-meaning new version of the kind of movie we used to make much more easily. It's not masterful, but at least it's respectable.
Vertigo is as much about its director's view of sex as a masterclass thriller. It decodes not only Master Hitchcock but an entire cinematic point-of-view.
Superman creates a well-meaning mythology that predicts the most profitable film genre. Its many imitations are only partial, however. The original still soars.
Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker is as inconceivably sloppy for its artists as it is embarrassing for its fans. It is brand mismanagement in visual form.
An analysis of Villeneuve’s dreamy thriller, Hitchcock accelerated to spiritual attack speed. Arachnophobes beware.
