The Runaways (review)
There hasn’t been a movie like The Runaways, one about women rockers that’s just as raw and earthy and tough and pitiless as the ones about the men are.
There hasn’t been a movie like The Runaways, one about women rockers that’s just as raw and earthy and tough and pitiless as the ones about the men are.
First thing the Robert Downey Jr. Sherlock Holmes made me think? (Okay, second thing, after ‘Sexiest Holmes evah!’) ‘I have got to see Young Sherlock Holmes again.’
Quietly charming and coarsely handsome, a sensitively observed story about young people in love seen through a keen eye for the unglamorous side of New York City that we don’t often see on film these days…
This gentle movie is about science as a human endeavor, as noble and contradictory and sometimes as wrenching a thing as making great art or journeying to unknown lands.
I challenge anyone who sincerely believes that *The Blind Side* is a good film to take a look at this one and see how this kind of story is meant to be told.
If what I think is happening here, is happening here, it better not be…
It’s a hard, harsh film, a triumph of the new realism that is transforming British film at the moment…
The metallic tang of blood is all over the elegant facade of this mysteriously disappointing, dispassionately underpowered story of a British aristocrat who dances with the devil, in the form of a werewolf curse, in the pale moonlight.
Fashion designer Tom Ford has made the cinematic equivalent of a fashion magazine spread…
It’s almost impossible to watch this 1983 Robert Altman film today with the mindset of the time in which it was created. Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing…