This Blu-ray invites us to reassess an undervalued oddball from the height of Eastwood’s stardom.
With his first solo feature, Joshua Bonnetta is again contemplating death and the traces it leaves behind.
The film is a generous ode to a rural community and a touching intergenerational drama lavished with pictorial beauty.
The film’s reminder of the fragility of agrarian traditions in the face of a merciless profit motive is delivered with tact and subtlety.
Sean Durkin’s sweated-over filmmaking tediously lifts a familiar tale of domestic dysfunction to the level of myth.
Piñeiro’s latest unfolds at times like a Hollis Frampton-esque image association game.
Beyond their plot parallels, both films are further united by the grounding presence of Barbara Stanwyck.
It’s in certain characters’ trajectories that the Ross brothers locate the tragic soul of the bar.
Flicker Alley’s disc offers everything one could want out of a home video release.
It recognizes that even the sturdiest of friendships are inevitably tested by time and the evolution of personal responsibility.
Like Winter Brothers, Hlynur Pálmason’s sophomore feature tackles the subject of masculinity in crisis.
A zen-like study of aging and male friendship, Reichardt’s sophomore feature remains one of her best.
Thomas Heise’s documentary seeks to excavate real human thought and feeling beneath the haze of larger political structures.
Mann goes northward and skewers the myth of western pioneering in The Far Country.
Criterion updates their old package with further context around the film’s heady investigation of ancient witchcraft.
The film is greater in its confrontational force than the sum of a dozen festival breakthroughs lauded for their fearlessness.
This is one of the rare American films to give dramatic heft to the strategic challenges and mortal stakes of labor organizing.
Only in focusing so thoroughly on the normal does Paul Harrill’s film stumble upon the paranormal.
The long and circuitous narrative history of the so-called OCU weighs heavily on Eric Notarnicola’s film.
Balancing humanist optimism with a profoundly downcast view of our collective destiny, the film is inextricably of its moment.