Spitball Army

Supremely violent, moody and plodding, with a sound mix borrowed from David Lynch. Also has a karaoke whorehouse.

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Bertolucci’s 1900 (1976) has frequently stunning visuals and can be operatic in its staging, but no movie should be this long. My bum hurts. I nearly shrieked in my own living room this morning as I watched Donald Sutherland head-butt a kitty-cat to death. It only took one furiously powerful slam with the crown of […]

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The Maysles doc about Christo’s U.S./Japan installation portrays the artists’ volatility and ego as the true spectacles.

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Errol Morris gleefully puts Donald Rumsfeld’s relentless contrarian parsing of language on infuriating display.

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And you thought fiction could be terrifying? The horror. The DC snipers’ Caprice glides roads like some angel of death.

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This might be one of the worst films I have ever endured. I can’t be bothered to tell you why.

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Trying to appreciate the films of Nuri Bilge Ceylan: like seeking value in 30 MPH in the fast lane. But I’m trying.

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Shakespeare, spiced by Cole Porter, yet not as bold as those angular sets seeming straight from Salvador Dali’s brain.

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Halfway through the sexual-predator drama Trust, I thought: I will hate this movie if they don’t catch the creep. Therefore, 1/2 star.

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Great acting. Painterly cinematography. Stunning. I couldn’t stop watching even though I had to pee really bad.

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