
The Grand Budapest Hotel movie review: best exotic nonsense
A grownup storybook of a movie spun out of candy-colored nonsense that challenges you to embrace its falseness and deny its romance.

A grownup storybook of a movie spun out of candy-colored nonsense that challenges you to embrace its falseness and deny its romance.

If it holds true to the current London real estate market, this will end up a structure that only Russian gangsters and Saudi oil sheiks can afford.

Sigourney Weaver’s weapons-contractor CEO doesn’t have anywhere near the screen time of the scantily dressed mommy to a newborn AI. [This post is not behind the paywall.]

Almost everything that is wrong about how women are depicted by Hollywood, collected in one ugly movie. [This post is not behind the paywall.]

Yes, that bridge is the one that gets destroyed in one of the later Harry Potter movies…

It’s not very suspenseful or romantic, but the always awesome Patricia Clarkson remains calm and kicks some ass, so that’s something.

A product of the Disney princess machine. Its highest ambition is to move a new line of toys. Or to evoke despair in the fairy-tale-ization of girls’ lives.

Well, who doesn’t like warm hugs?

An extraordinarily personal story about prostitution, one with a gentle but undeniable humanist force for hopeful understanding.

A passionate and intense drama — fueled by a fierce Jeremy Renner — that furiously underscores the problem of lickspittle corporate “journalism.”