
The Invisible Woman review: sometimes it’s hard to be a woman
The story of Charles Dickens and his secret mistress is no romance, and no modest costume drama, either.

The story of Charles Dickens and his secret mistress is no romance, and no modest costume drama, either.

A smart, incisive portrait of a woman who lives life on her own terms and doesn’t let herself get pushed around.

A gooey nostalgic look back at that time a young boy’s mom fell in love with their kidnapper, presented under a sexy sweltering summer haze.

Hilarious in the Coens’ weird, askew way, but also absolutely crushing. This movie breaks my heart in a hundred different ways.

A debauched end-of-empire horror story disguised as an outrageous comedy, with remarkable performances from Leonardo DiCaprio and Jonah Hill.

This is history firsthand, in progress, and unfinished.

What is supposed to be funny and heartwarming is instead creepy and stalkerish. There’s no charm or emotional plausibility in a tale that cannot work without it.

It’s the rise of the machines as romantic dramedy, and the Singularity as romantic tragedy. It’s the nicest, gentlest sci-fi horror film ever.

Acknowledges the powerful fraternity of soldiers without being jingoistic, and depicts the intensity and adrenaline of a battlefield without being pornographic.

An airy fairy tale, buoyed by an infectious joy, about the very modern, bittersweetly pragmatic ache that comes with maintaining your soul and integrity as the world falls apart around you.