
Basmati Blues movie review: like white savior on rice
Part hamfisted critique of Big Ag, part strained romantic comedy, and part insipid musical that’s not much like the Bollywood tribute it’s meant to be. An accidental parody of itself.

Part hamfisted critique of Big Ag, part strained romantic comedy, and part insipid musical that’s not much like the Bollywood tribute it’s meant to be. An accidental parody of itself.

One of the smartest and most enthralling SF film series ever breaks more new ground as it ends on notes as emotional and provocative as they are explosive.

One of the best SF series ever deepens its critique of the power of propaganda in ways complicated, intriguingly contradictory, and a little bit horrifying.

A devastating indictment of pop culture as propaganda — about its power and the limits of its powers — and an upending of the typical teen-girl romance movie.
The auteur who gave us Con Air, The General’s Daughter, and Lara Croft: Tomb Raider is back, extending his cinema terrible of violent, unthinking nihilism and brutal, pointless action. Oh, and misogyny for fun. Hoorah!
This is what, the 18,562,012th film version of Jane Austen? How many times can Lizzie Bennet and Mr. Darcy misunderstand each other and yearn and burn and fail to see past their own snobbery and stubbornness until they finally do? Oh my god, do we really need another *Pride & Prejudice*?
Ordinary People, Robert Redford’s directorial debut, is a talky drama about people who can’t talk to one another. Conrad, a high-school student recovering from a suicide attempt after his brother’s boating accident, is all but ignored by his parents. Too-cheerful Calvin pretends that things are just hunky-dory, and when Conrad tries to talk to Beth, she changes the subject or pushes him away.