
Blue Caprice (aka The Washington Snipers) review
Thoughtful performances and grim visual elegance aren’t enough to save this portrait of abuse and control twisted into banal evil from becoming too banal to have much bite.

Thoughtful performances and grim visual elegance aren’t enough to save this portrait of abuse and control twisted into banal evil from becoming too banal to have much bite.

Twists the high-school revenge story into feminist black magic.

Stark and gritty, this may be the most down-to-earth teen romance ever, filled with touches of unpredictable, inescapable reality.

An inexcusably blinkered documentary look at a modern youth movement in Cairo that utterly ignores how it cuts girls and women out of its quest for freedom.

Mashes a heightened sense of the absurd rather awkwardly up against arty pastoral, and the mock-seriousness of the endeavor comes across as unpleasantly snide.

Way to give overwrought fan fiction a bad name. No amount of fairy dust can make this bewitching.

One of the more achingly poignant stories of awkward (male) adolescence I’ve seen. Sam Rockwell steals this movie more than he has ever stolen a movie before.

Like a Comic-Con cosplay event gone horribly wrong, this poor excuse for an action comedy has nothing to say beyond a few expletives and nothing to offer but a shocking lack of appreciation for its own awful irony.

Joyously warm and gentle… though perhaps too gentle to be entirely satisfying.

A valentine to early filmmaking, this silent-movie pastiche is gorgeous, lush, and bursting with passion. It presents a familiar fairy tale with a wondrous air of freshness and newfound intimacy.