While I'm Not There features several inspired leaps, few are as audacious as reimagining Bob Dylan as a young African American kid.
“November Rain” is more than a music video. It’s every idea that existed in hard rock in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s compressed into nine minutes.
While fictionalized accounts of rock stars' sex lives and personal relationships are often sensational, The Hours and Times distinguishes itself as a small-scale, conversational film, one that centralizes an ambiguous relationship.
Lock the door: for our April devotional to Paul Newman, we’re revisiting Cat on a Hot Tin Roof with Vulture critic Roxana Hadadi.
Using humor and goodwill, Cookie Mueller drafted her own terms for navigating life within a misogynistic society.
In spite of the Total Request Live and low-cut bootleg pants of it all, Josie and the Pussycats captures—and then eviscerates—the bizarre contours of early-2020s culture with more clarity than any piece of contemporary media.
What makes Alex Ross Perry’s Her Smell so refreshing is its admission of recovery as a continued effort.
Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid frustrates me like family.
That Thing You Do! gleams with friendliness, gladness, soulfulness—the kind of personable perfectionism of a homespun masterwork.
We have mythologized Sid and Nancy because we need to make sense of senselessness.
The Crimson Kimono is not a typical mystery; instead, it uses the conventional trappings of the hardboiled detective story to explore a taboo topic for its time.
We meet Newman's character at a disadvantage in The Sting, but because this is Paul Newman, and we know Paul Newman, it’s more than evident that The Paul Newman Show is about to begin.
