Steve McQueen’s new anthology series is an impassioned, insightful look at anti-Black discrimination in 20th-century London.
Pedro Almodóvar’s adaptation of Jean Cocteau’s one-act play is an expansive, carefully constructed half-hour.
Philp Seymour Hoffman takes a rote villain role and goes toe-to-toe with megastar Tom Cruise in J.J. Abrams’ Mission: Impossible III.
Sam Pollard’s latest documentary is a dense look at Martin Luther King Jr. and the Hoover administration’s attempts to silence him.
Cameron Crowe’s rock and roll dramedy may not be the most realistic tale, but it’s a keen mix of chaotic and crowd-pleasing.
Add McG’s execrable slasher sequel to the pile of tragedies 2020 has foisted upon us.
Philip Seymour Hoffman lends remarkable texture to Spike Lee’s 25th Hour, a film in mourning over New York and the fleeting nature of being.
Charlie Kaufman’s minimalist meditation on mortality is as hard to get through as it is oddly rewarding.
Philip Seymour Hoffman livened up Jan de Bont’s 1996 blockbuster — and probably made Jack Black’s career possible.
Try as he might, not even Philip Seymour Hoffman can’t quite spice up George Clooney’s warmed-over political drama.
Todd Solondz’s “Happiness” is a grimly comic film that swings for the fences, and is buoyed by Philip Seymour Hoffman’s compellingly repressed figure.
Kris Rey directs Gillian Jacobs in a lighthearted comedy about reliving the supposedly carefree college years.
Bennett Miller’s adaptation of Michael Lewis’ book is an overlong, overcrowded sports biopic partially redeemed by its cast.
A token of the aughts and a swan song for Mike Nichols, this 2007 drama runs on more hermetically sealed Aaron Sorkin writing to okay results.
1991’s Scent of a Woman remains one of the most baffling recipients of Oscar gold, a prep-school drama lifted only by an early Philip Seymour Hoffman turn.
A puzzle of a thriller, Sidney Lumet’s final film slides its script and performances together with ease.
It’s good, but Anthony Minghella’s 1999 adaptation really comes alive when Philip Seymour Hoffman’s scumbag enters the picture.
Dawn Porter offers up a heartfelt, accessible tribute to one of Congress’ most stalwart Civil Rights leaders.