It’s 1984. Our hero is Boy (James Rolleston), a plucky kid living in an isolated New Zealand town with his younger brother, Rocky (Te Aho Eketone-Whitu), four younger cousins and their grandmother, who cares for them.
Watching WE, Madonna’s latest terrible directing effort, it’s difficult to know exactly for what she was striving. An old-fashioned romance? A softhearted take on Wallis Simpson, a woman with whom she clearly identifies as a misunderstood figure?
Here’s the danger with Holocaust dramas: At some point, they run the potential of departing from themes of war, human suffering and triumph in the face of adversity, and tipping into standard horror fare.
About once a year, a
film comes along that I have absolutely no interest in seeing. This
year—and this is only March!—that honor belonged toA Separation. An Iranian family drama in Farsi with subtitles? Pass. How wrong I was.
The annual Academy Awards recognize cinematic achievement on a grand scale, but few films have matched the success of Ben-Hur—chosen best picture of 1959 and winner of 10 other Oscars. It also broke many of the records of its time, including racking up a then colossal production cost of $15 million.
The impoverished masses rage against the wealthy 1 percent as soldiers return from a long-running war and an “outsider” candidate contends with a fickle electorate in Coriolanus, which might have been ripped from the headlines, if William Shakespeare hadn’t written it in the 17th century.
Relaying stargazers’ complaints about city lights, the first half of the documentary film The City Dark risks becoming a platform for a fringe user group, until filmmaker Ian Cheney finally moves from anecdote to evidence, denouncing electric light as a harmful pollutant.
of the pleasures of watching a David Cronenberg film is the guarantee that
something nasty will happen. The violence in his films lurks beneath the
surface, hinted at in the cold, clinical dialogue uttered by his characters.