Josh Larsen

Parsons proves to be an expert manipulator of space with the camera.

This largely struggles with tone, whiplashing between broad Rudd comedy, something more interestingly, bitterly humorous, and serious adult drama.

It becomes overwhelming, even at 95 minutes (this might have worked better as an episodic series). Still, Vazquez has undoubtedly captured the dissociative jitters of living in a time when an entity like Amazon, Inc. seems to increasingly govern every move we make.

Still, the way art director Ryo Sugimoto, set decorator Yutaka Motegi, cinematographer Keisuke Imamura, and others contributing to the design both establish the nightmarish banality of these hallways and then intermittently disrupt it—from modifying signage to altering lighting—makes Exit 8 a thriller in which the space itself is the bad guy.

Silent Friend ponders ideas of connection and consciousness with a touch that can only be called botanical: slow, serene, sensuous.

I defy anyone to resist the pair’s commitment to their bits, many of which involve hidden-camera work on the streets of Toronto—or above them.

Romvari imbues both halves with their own observational elegance, at once soft and searing. She has a knack for the incisive, off-kilter image.

Still a fantasy, though a less mealymouthed one than The Devil Wears Prada, this follow-up to the 2006 Meryl Streep-Anne Hathaway buddy fashion comedy nods to the real world in interesting ways—fast fashion, corporate restructuring, the implosion of journalism—while still remaining charmingly light on its Gucci-clad feet.

A collage of religio-goth gestures, Mother Mary never adds up to quite as much as it promises. But the movie has a somnambulant pull, thanks to its woozy imagery and cloistered, two-hander structure, in which Anne Hathaway and Michaela Coel circle each other like figures in a hazy dream.

In The Drama, it never feels as if the two main characters are in conflict with each other as much as they’re in conflict with the film’s form and screenplay.