The last Philip Seymour Hoffman to premiere before his passing, God’s Pocket is a needless farce from Mad Men’s John Slattery.
Pegged upon release as a retread of previous work, William Friedkin’s neo-noir is something altogether different.
A noticeable step up in their artistry at the time, the Coen brothers’ gangster pastiche remains the duo’s crown jewel.
The three part documentary offers an affectionate, occasionally uneven look at cult films.
Spike Lee’s hamfisted misfire throws everything at the kitchen sink – income inequality, Watergate, lesbian stud service – and none of it sticks.
Neither audiences or critics knew what to make of Spike Lee’s 70s period piece that made up for in mood and style what it lacked in focus.
Black cinema (and American cinema as a whole) hasn’t been the same since the release of Spike Lee’s revolutionary New York drama.
David Simon and Ed Burns’ adaptation of the Philip Roth novel paints a harrowing picture of an alternate America that feels all too prescient.
It’s Newman and Cruise’s picture first, but Scorsese’s work on it is still a pleasure.