symposium
By Michael Koresky, Jeff Reichert | July 1, 2019

She has continually brought to her roles intense dedication, as well as a methodical approach to neuroses that can toggle between effortless and effortful; some can find her showmanship off-putting, while some of us are captivated in a purely pleasurable way.

symposium
By Julien Allen | July 15, 2019

She was 20 at the time of shooting, and her callowness is tangible and authentic throughout, but never once does Binoche take a backward step in her performance. Instead she drives the action forward, taking charge of the tempo.

symposium
By Chloe Lizotte | July 15, 2019

Summer Hours is a film about the inevitability of movement—of time, of people, of industry—yet also the ways in which human nature strives to avoid long-term variation; how we try to smuggle poignancy into a seemingly inhospitable economic landscape.

symposium
By Simran Hans | July 15, 2019

Binoche performs this willful entrapment by playing Marie with a studied self-consciousness. The character is neither dense nor desperate, but she’s eager to please, alert to the things that Dan might find charming.

symposium
By Nadine Zylberberg | July 8, 2019

Binoche expresses such a range of emotions that we cannot be sure what her endgame is. She won the Best Actress prize at Cannes for her role, an honor that recognizes her ability to captivate an audience even in a performance that keeps shifting and changing registers before our eyes.

symposium
By Emma Piper-Burket | July 8, 2019

Actresses have occasionally been credited with carefully “choosing” roles to curate a specific body of work, but seldom are they acknowledged for creating the circumstances in order to build that body of work the way Binoche has.

symposium
By Nick Davis | July 8, 2019

Elles arrived at an ideal juncture in Binoche’s career where she began exploring the power and elasticity of a middle-aged body, majestic and eloquent though no longer defined by unbearable lightness.

symposium
By Shonni Enelow | July 1, 2019

Even as archetypical “Anne” in Code Unknown, one of her least adorned performances, the tension of those supposed contradictions––generosity and narcissism, tidal emotion and awareness that she’s being watched––is both what animates her scenes and what gives them a critical edge.

symposium
By Chris Wisniewski | July 1, 2019

The movie calls on her to disrupt its stillness and austerity, to whirl in with frantic phrases and abrupt movements. She is that frazzle of golden hair, the rush of light bursting in that also brings chaos to order. The balloon floats, but she crashes in.

symposium
By Ela Bittencourt | July 1, 2019

Denis is hardly ever literal, but she does present a sobering vision of maternity as a prison, as “being caught,” subjugated. In this sense, Dibs wielding her power—what she calls her “total devotion to reproduction”—is also a slavish act of treason. She is a victim, and yet she becomes a tool and perpetrator.

review
By Juan Diaz | June 28, 2019

Aviles spent years developing her script by observing housekeepers at the same hotel where the film was shot. She accordingly grants the labor of her her protagonist a respect rarely seen onscreen.

review
By Lindsay Brayton | June 28, 2019

Wild Rose insists on maintaining a wide-eyed and likable tone even as its protagonist offers glimpses of the deep-seated self-absorption that accompanies a person determined to live a life devoted to artistic expression.

review
By Benjamin Goff | June 20, 2019

The film, whose title sounds like an apocalyptic Simon and Garfunkel song, paints a portrait that raises questions of identity, authenticity, and our relationship to home.

review
By Lawrence Garcia | June 14, 2019

Instead of tracing the more settled trajectory of the film—a gradual fall from grace to match the early passage from unfettered youth to straitened middle age—it seems more apropos to focus on his ecstatic cinematic orchestrations, which are, not to put too fine a point on it, the main attraction.

review
By Jordan Cronk | June 13, 2019

Jarmusch allows the droll humor to be swallowed in a vacuum of inertia, as if the fate of the world has been foretold and the characters are helpless to reverse what they have started.