
In the Name of My Daughter movie review: suspenseless Riviera
Not even Catherine Deneuve can save this dramatically inert soap opera of corruption and obsession, which does not even resolve its central mystery.

Not even Catherine Deneuve can save this dramatically inert soap opera of corruption and obsession, which does not even resolve its central mystery.

A frustrating movie in some ways, but an important reminder of the power of cinema to manipulate and seduce us, and not always for the better.

With supercool 70s chic and a smart crime thriller vibe, this is a welcome throwback to action dramas of the past, before they chose spectacle over story.

Meet the crotchety, bitter old man who, back in 1983 as a crotchety, bitter younger man, refused to initiate global nuclear war. A true story!

A bit of House of Windsor fan fiction: cute but slight, though the re-creation of London’s citywide VE Day celebrations is kind of amazing.

A compassionate, distressing tale of a woman’s determination to find her own purpose, full of heartbreaking moments that pile up until they’re unbearable.

A pleasant and undemanding romantic drama that takes great care not to upset you unduly with strong emotion or embarrassing passion.

Ridiculously romantic in all the best ways, and more modern, more progressive, and even just plain more grownup that half the movies thrown at us today.

Overly complicated yet somehow anticlimactic, and constructed more with pat Hollywood pomp rather than the authentic grit it demands.

Romantic and funny and smart and wise and just plain different. This is a historical costume dramedy romp about gardening. How cool is that?