Saint Maud is a confident debut from a promising filmmaker, but its self-imposed genre tropes become limitations that hold it back from greatness.
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 sloppy for its artists as 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.
Ad Astra attempts to be a space opera and family melodrama. Failing both makes even its best intentions seem misplaced from other films.
Ari Aster's Midsommar shows the dark side of empowerment, which is its main success. That so many consider it a self-help film is its main curiosity.