
London photo: a Rik Mayall postage stamp?
I like the idea of a Royal Mail stamp to honor Rik Mayall, too.

I like the idea of a Royal Mail stamp to honor Rik Mayall, too.

Compulsively watchable. Joe Swanberg is a master of subtle dramatic observation, and his films are unlike anything other filmmakers are giving us right now.

Grading on the Ratner Curve, this is a positive triumph. The cheesy clichés are at least passingly entertaining. You could do worse.

I can’t decide if the underwear model is wearing a salon-type hairdryer on his head, or a combat helmet.

I don’t know much about graffiti, but I know that I like this guy. He’s like a combination of Lord Nelson and Iron Man.

Terry Gilliam descends into near self-parody with this mess of a mind-frak about a mathematical formula for the meaning of life that has little to say.

At Lady Dinah’s Cat Emporium.

Doubles down on the first film’s angry approach to inequality and violence, and again reflects an image of America that is ugly but only slightly distorted.

French drama about nuclear workers is riveting when it focuses on the dangers of the job, less so when it devolves into a sexy working-class soap opera.

An extraordinary examination of a remarkable photographer, part portrait unraveled by meticulous detective work, part sharp criticism of the hidebound art establishment.