
Blackhat movie review: broken code
This mysteriously misbegotten flick should be a gritty 10-hour miniseries so it would have time to explore its ideas and potentially fascinating characters.

This mysteriously misbegotten flick should be a gritty 10-hour miniseries so it would have time to explore its ideas and potentially fascinating characters.

Weirdly funny and weirdly sad, one woman’s slo-mo nervous breakdown becomes an exercise in pathos that is unforgettably poignant.

An almost unbearably heartbreaking documentary rehumanizes the LGBT icon… and makes him newly tragic all over again.

A charm-free hero with control issues and a passive, fretful heroine have coy and tediously vanilla pretend-sex. This is meant to be erotic?

Old-fashioned is right. Like how the Taliban is old-fashioned. Behold some pretty despicable passive-aggressive othering of women in the name of “respect.”

An extraordinary group of films concerned with corralling confusing and conflicting human experience at emotional borderlands.

Charming in that gloriously detailed Aardman way, but with its simple slapstick humor, it’s strictly for the littlest tykes.

Sees no need to engage metaphor or dispense with cliché, so when you haven’t seen it before, you can’t believe what you’re seeing. And not in a good way.

Three of the five nominees are about women, and it’s hardly a surprise that their fresh perspective results in stories that are new and original.

A hilariously histrionic depiction of 19th-century superstar violinist Niccolò Paganini’s rise to fame, far more Monty Python than Mozart.