
The Cabin in the Woods movie review: the end of horror
I don’t know how anyone can possibly make a horror movie again. This absolutely genius movie renders all past and future examples of the genre superfluous.

I don’t know how anyone can possibly make a horror movie again. This absolutely genius movie renders all past and future examples of the genre superfluous.
May well be the most solidly confident storytelling I’ve seen on television, perhaps ever…
Why does this children’s book of a film morph, after a delightful, beautifully observed, feline-biographical opening, into a gangster crime story?
Crazy-funny, a hilarious satire on male inadequacy disguised as an outrageously violent crime thriller. Not at all for the squeamish, and just so wrong that it ends up just so right.

I had just begun my career as a film critic when Titanic was first released in late 1997. So I missed it, back then, what it was about James Cameron’s magnificent movie that was (and still is) so extraordinary.
It’s astonishing how little crazy one needs to bring to a movie at the moment to make it leap out as fresh and distinctive.
And now we learn the secret of that dreadful Clash of the Titans movie from a coupla years back. Its incoherence? Its soullessness? All by design.
Every once in a while, just as I’m about to succumb to Hollywood-stoked despair and ennui, a movie like The Hunger Games comes along to rescue me…
It’s The Diary of Anne Frank, only with sewers. Elegantly presented, chock full of moments of dreadful suspense in a horrible milieu, and buoyed by strikingly naturalistic performances…
American filmmaker Joshua Marston’s anthropological storytelling presents characters and cultures alien to his audiences’ eyes in ways that render them instantly and easily recognizable and sympathetic…