
The Kennel Murder Case movie review
This is a nice bit of fun for classic mystery buffs, full of wisecracking reporters, nervous butlers, priceless Chinese treasures, and lots of double-breasted suits and fedoras.

This is a nice bit of fun for classic mystery buffs, full of wisecracking reporters, nervous butlers, priceless Chinese treasures, and lots of double-breasted suits and fedoras.

A new-fashioned screwball comedy combining improbable elements, from ancient Egyptian artifacts to downtown New York chic, with classic conceits like mistaken identity and romantic conundrums.
Was *Taxi Driver* more disturbing, or less disturbing, before its unpleasant truths shifted into the real world?
The other great movie about boxing, Martin Scorsese’s *Raging Bull* is as dismal as *Rocky* is triumphant, as hopeless as *Rocky* is hopeful.
This is the best mob movie ever made.
Would The X-Files exist without 1984’s Ghostbusters? Would Buffy? Would world-weary sarcasm and snarky self-reference ever have reached the level of art form if not for Peter Venkman? The answers, okay, more than likely, are Yes, Yes, and Yes. But they’ll all more fun because Ghostbusters seared its way through our impressionable adolescent brains at just the right time to inflict the most grievous psychological injury.

Opens with Hitchcockian strings warp-warping as sticky red blood drips down a white screen… or is it blood? This touch of black whimsy isn’t the only one to be found here…
And that realistic attitude is a big part of what makes Boiler Room so refreshing: Younger doesn’t offer any pat, happy endings, doesn’t have all his characters wrap things up by kissing and making nice. The film ends on such an abrupt note — and such a perfect one — that I gasped with unexpected delight.

Exquisitely understated, this is an instant classic, not in the sense that the word is typically applied to movies, but how we use the word to describe cars and clothes, embodying clean lines, subtle elegance, and a sense of timelessness.

Miracle on 34th Street is, as all of us who love this classic film know, the story of how Macy’s department store in New York City not only found the real Santa Claus but hired him to, well, play Santa Claus.