By James Wham | September 27, 2020

Isabella has films within films, plays within plays, and people within people. As in its central mise en abyme, the director creates an abyss of rhyme and recurrence. His mode of adaptation works reflexively, where these layers upon layers lead to a sense of collapse.

By Daniel Witkin | September 18, 2020

The actors interpret their often dense monologues with an admirable naturalness and, perhaps more importantly, truly work to convey the act of listening. In many ways, the work of Puiu in guiding the actors through the genuinely demanding material is a more impressive achievement than the heightened realism of The Death of Mr. Larazescu.

By Beatrice Loayza | September 8, 2020

In this nonlinear narrative, which abruptly, frequently jumps back eight years in time to glean moments from Sibyl’s former life and love, choppy scenes have the effect of disorienting, painful memories resurfaced, like picking up the disordered pieces of diary pages torn to bits.

By Greg Cwik | September 8, 2020

The film conjures a world that feels appropriately familiar yet somehow strange, with seemingly arbitrary details, the collapsing of years and collating of moments, the consequences of the future leaking back into the past.

By Mark Lukenbill | August 10, 2020

This plague is in no way biological or scientific; it is profoundly subjective and insurmountable. Seimetz stresses the inexplicable nature of the belief by depicting it as a sort of neon Protestant visitation that appears to each successive victim, rendered by cinematographer Jay Keitel as a hypnotic light show.

By Susannah Gruder | August 5, 2020
At the Museum

The corrections center actually functions as a reprieve for many of these women, who went from abusive childhoods straight into abusive marriages when they were as young as 12. The fact that a male filmmaker is let into this world shows their trust of him.

By Forrest Cardamenis | July 24, 2020

By respecting its audience, the film creates space to contemplate aesthetics and representation and indicates that depicting cruelty beautifully need not mean making cruelty beautiful.

By Nicholas Russell | June 26, 2020

The Vast of Night is a riff by debut filmmaker Andrew Patterson on black and white nostalgia, featuring quippy fast-paced conversations and a fondness for the hand-built and the hand-cranked.

By Caden Mark Gardner | June 19, 2020

There is a difference between making a film of sociopolitical and cultural value and making a film about important sociopolitical and cultural matters. In some cases the latter may beget the former, but it is not a given.

By A.G. Sims | June 19, 2020

Lee has never been any more obsessed with race than the country he has vigorously documented over the course of his multi-decade career. The ideas he explores and the stories he tells about the myriad of black experiences seem excessive only in a canon that all but ignores them.

By Matthew Eng | June 17, 2020

The distracting, uniform beauty of the ensemble lends Assayas’s film an almost classical glamour that threatens to redirect our focus away from narrative events and the infrequent feint at political insight.

By Michael Koresky | June 16, 2020

His movies are about fraught relationships and breakdowns in communication, but without any histrionics; they often fracture time and chronology, but not in a cloying or self-consciously experimental way. They are so emotionally transparent that they run the risk of being mistaken for simple-minded.

By Genevieve Yue | June 10, 2020

Yourself and Yours, from Hong Sang-soo, is like a hall of mirrors, where likenesses are cast in multiple and often dissembling ways.

By Josh Cabrita | May 1, 2020

Lest his film be charged with trafficking in the same philistine stuff as pornography, Serra rarely, if ever, allows his erotica to be, well, erotic. Not as well versed in the art of the exaggerated orgasm as adult-film actors, his nonprofessionals are awkward and imprecise.