Much like Gabriel García Márquez before them, Her and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind insert elements of the magical into reality, drawing no line between the two, making the marvelous real, and the real marvelous.
Walter Hill's Streets of Fire is a gutter fairy tale, propelled by the transcendent power of rock and roll.
The fabric of reality in Robrt Altman's 3 Women feels slightly warped, as though the events are obscured by the heat haze radiating off the Southern California desert.
Alfonso Cuaron's A Little Princess and Agnieszka Holland's The Secret Garden both insist that the aliveness of the world is irreducible and everywhere—that it moves through everything, but that despite this, it is often invisible to us.
By never explicitly stating what his movie means, Krzysztof Kieślowski forces us to use what he’s left us to make our own meaning.
Through a stirring bit of cinematic alchemy, director Brett Morgen reconstructs Jane Goodall’s journey through Gombe, while also giving us a glimpse into her thoughts, aspirations, and memories.
Danny Boyle's A Life Less Ordinary is so odd, and yet so memorable, that it feels more like a vivid dream than a cookie-cutter Hollywood love story.
Like Jennie herself, Portrait of Jennie is made up of incongruities and rapid mood changes.
Amid the world’s surfeit of impressions and images, distractions and demands, Wings of Desire shows us how to recognize the real and the urgent.
On The Shape of Water and “My Life with the Wave”
I feel like an apologist for complex filmmaking when I ask you to give Scott Pilgrim vs. the World a second watch, but perhaps I shouldn’t. This is a film that was made for people like me.