Miracle Mile is about many things — romance and Los Angeles and the looming threat of nuclear devastation at the close of the Cold War — but also, obsessively, it’s about marking the passage of time.
The Sisters Brothers lives in a conflict born of constantly dueling notions: civilization’s failed attempt to tame the wild, the animal impulse’s struggle against the rational impulse, the impossibility of the dream when faced with reality.
In many ways, Russian Doll feels like an extended exercise in cognitive therapy.
The Warriors is about living with—through, during—the night, a lesson we all learn as kids, and carry with us as we sleep. It’s not so much about the fear of what’s behind, but about running as fast as possible toward what’s on the other side.
Watching The World’s End today, separated from my first viewing by six years that feel more like a lifetime, I don’t see a thrilling and heart-wrenching story. Instead, I see one that’s profoundly sad.
On the journey to hell and back in The Crow.
What if, Clue seems to ask, futility isn’t an Achilles’ heel—what if it’s the point?
Only Lovers Left Alive is about marriage, and about weathering long dark nights of the soul just long enough to see the light again, taking each wave as it comes and then bracing for the next one.
Nothing is ever quite settled in Martin Scorsese's After Hours, it's a cinematic maze that frequently dips its toes into the absurd and macabre.