“Starbuck” is a big, fat French-Canadian hug of a movie, a sperm-donations-gone-wrong farce that manages the occasional belly laugh, but also offers moving takes on parenthood, family and what it means to grow up.
“Pain & Gain” is the darkest of comedies set in bright Miami about gruesome crimes committed by the dimmest of bulbs.
The cinema’s leading purveyor of Southern Gothic, Jeff Nichols, hands Matthew McConaughey his latest tour de force turn in “Mud,” a down-and-dirty, if entirely-too-long, mythic melodrama in the “Tobacco Road” tradition.
“Marriage is like a phone call late at night,” Robert De Niro says in a dulcet voice-over at the outset of “The Big Wedding.” “First comes the ring, and then you wake up.”
Say yes to “No.” An entire country did, causing a political earthquake that uprooted a tenacious dictatorship and formed the basis of this smart, involving and provocative new film.
Unwieldy, overlong and overly reliant on melodramatic coincidences, “The Place Beyond the Pines” is better than it has any right to be, thanks to its cast.
What is reality? In “Trance,” only director Danny Boyle knows for sure. He leaves it to the audience to try to figure out just what’s up, and what’s going down, in this sleek psychological puzzler.
Forget blowing the images up to IMAX size and converting the lunging velociraptors and T. Rexes into 3-D. The best reason to revive “Jurassic Park” for its 20th anniversary is Jeff Goldblum.
Relentless, pitiless, bloody and intense — that’s the remake of Sam Raimi’s “The Evil Dead.”
“We all have our moments,” says Yuval Diskin. “Maybe you’re shaving and you think, ‘I make a decision and x number of people are killed.’ The power to take lives in an instant, there’s something unnatural about it.”
As the ampersand between their names indicates, “Ginger & Rosa” are inseparable, pals since birth, best friends for as long as anyone can remember. At least until now.
In the future, hunger, violence and money have disappeared. Lying is unthinkable. And stealing – from the place where one acquires one’s every need, a building labeled “Store” – is pointless. Because we’re all wearing spotless white suits and driving shiny, chrome-plated Lotus Evoras. Well, a lot of us are.
Max Irons and Jake Abel are chasing each other up and down a hallway at the Ritz-Carlton while Stephenie Meyer looks on with a maternal smile.
People have been trying to film Jack Kerouac’s “On the Road,” the talismanic Beat novel, just about since the day it was published in 1957. “Heart Beat,” the 1980 semi-biopic, with John Heard as Kerouac; Nick Nolte as his madman muse, Neal Cassady; and Sissy Spacek as Cassady’s second wife, Carolyn, captured a little of the reckless spirit caroming around the room, grabbing from Kerouac’s lush, lunatic teletype-roll tome and from Carolyn Cassady’s memoirs. And there have been other imitators and aspirants.
Skip past the lame title and weary Stone Age premise. “The Croods” is the first pleasant surprise of spring, a gorgeous kids’ cartoon with heart and wit, if not exactly a firm grasp of paleontology.
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