
Emily Is Not the Biopic Emily Brontë Deserves
Emily Brontë is one of the most uniquely brilliant women writers who ever lived, the perfect subject for a feminist biopic. She deserves better than the shallow pop feminism of the new movie Emily.

Emily Brontë is one of the most uniquely brilliant women writers who ever lived, the perfect subject for a feminist biopic. She deserves better than the shallow pop feminism of the new movie Emily.

In John Wick: Chapter 4, Keanu Reeves’s puppy-avenging assassin returns for one last fever dream of violence and mayhem, giving viewers a final chance to watch John Wick seek the kind of revenge on the wealthy and all-powerful that we all dream about.

Steven Knight’s new adaptation of Charles Dickens’s Great Expectations adds drug addiction, the slave trade and even sadomasochistic sex. But lurid flourishes alone can’t save this adaptation.

Air’s origin story about the Michael Jordan–endorsed sneaker is far too high on its own supply.

In Renfield, Nicholas Hoult is a delight as Dracula’s much-abused personal assistant. But even Nicolas Cage as the Count himself can’t keep the movie on track.

Beef tells the story of a chance road-rage encounter that blossoms into a modern feud. Director Lee Sung Jin says it’s about “how hard it is to be alive,” but the show’s cross-class fantasy logic points at the powder keg of growing alienation in our society.

In the reboot of David Cronenberg’s Dead Ringers, Rachel Weisz plays twin gynecologists slowly unraveling. The gorgeous, chilly atmosphere — and Weisz’s double performance — are mesmerizing.

Critics adore artsy auteur filmmaker Ari Aster, director of hits like Midsommar and Hereditary — they’re even willing to pretend his new surrealist comedy Beau Is Afraid is hilarious. It’s not.

Even a respected auteur like director David Lowery can’t save Peter Pan & Wendy, yet another bland live-action adaptation of a Disney classic — this time with a dash of 2020s pop feminism.

Are You There God? It’s Me Margaret. is probably a nice, worthwhile coming-of-age movie. But it comes off as a bland fantasy film about a land peopled by smiling denizens in sunny dreamscapes who have such mild problems that they aren’t actually problems.

In the new series White House Plumbers, a brilliant send-up of the Watergate scandal, Woody Harrelson and Justin Theroux star as Richard Nixon’s bumbling covert operators. It's approaching a Coen brothers level of satiric genius.

The “Barbie snub” has kicked off an online kerfuffle about the 2024 Academy Award nominations. The decisions of the Academy are generally cynical and silly — but perhaps we should appreciate the fighting spirit awakened annually by the nominations.
From the end of World War I through the 1970s, filmmakers around the world experimented with film form in the hopes of awakening a new political consciousness. Why did that dream die?

Do you want to see a bunch of Nazis get the bloody, gory treatment they deserve in the wilds of Northern Finland? Of course you do. Then go see Sisu.

Even with a cast led by the hilarious Julia Louis-Dreyfus, You Hurt My Feelings struggles to find a single laugh in this comedy of manners about affluent New Yorkers learning the value of “little white lies.”

It’s been nearly 50 years since Charles Bronson first mowed down New York muggers in Death Wish. But defenses of the recent killing of Jordan Neely suggest that the film’s reactionary, Wild West–style vigilante violence still holds the imagination of many.

The conformity of 1950s film and television was the result of the successful McCarthyist purge of leftists — and their genres — from the entertainment industry. The life of socialist screenwriter Very Caspary shows how it was done and what was lost.

The highly hyped new crime series The Crowded Room could’ve been an unsparing take on extreme mental illness in a society that’s never been equipped to deal with it. Instead, it gives away its only source of suspense far too early.
In films like Annihilation and Ex Machina, director Alex Garland knows how to make the end of the world look majestic. But his new show, Devs, gives a grace and dignity to the apocalypse that you won’t find in our own world.

Asteroid City dials up the “Wes Anderson” to 11, leaving an emotional void in its wake.