The Men Who Stare at Goats (review)

I’m not sure if I’ve seen a more sublimely funny moment on screen this year than the one in which George Clooney, in all deep serious earnestness, tries to convince Ewan McGregor that he — McGregor, that is — is a Jedi warrior.

9 (review)

Imagine if Jules Verne wrote a movie for Pixar, if that steampunk visionary looked forward from his perch in the late Victorian age to a Great War in his near future that didn’t pause for twenty years to let everyone to catch their breath but instead went apocalyptic.

Inglourious Basterds (review)

Only Quentin Tarantino — cinema’s bad boy, the film geek who’s film-geekier than thou — would have the balls to state, as *Inglourious Basterds* comes to a close, that this could well be his masterpiece.