Mark Hanson

At times, the film bears less resemblance to Miike Takashi’s past work than to that of his acolytes in the West.

Peter Farrelly’s film shows little interest in uncovering anything beneath the familiar surface of the Hollywood icon at its center.

The sincerity with which Werner Herzog regards the sisters’ stubborn hopefulness in the face of a selfish and uncaring world gives the film a lasting emotional power.

The film is an intensely existential tale about our relationship to our bodies.

Andrey Zvyagintsev’s Minotaur is so charged in its critiques that it almost makes the righteous indignation of Leviathan seem gentle by comparison.

It’s easy to imagine the nihilistic avenues that Renny Harlin’s trilogy capper could have gone down.

Regrettably, the one star of Anaconda that gets the shortest shrift is the most important one: the snake.

The Carpenter’s Son fails to even offer decent frights, unless one finds the preponderance of CGI snakes particularly scary.

Mostly notable for its distracting resemblance to Rick Rosenthal’s Halloween II, Chapter 2 suggests for a while a needlessly extended epilogue to the first film.

The film plunges us into a world that feels simultaneously naturalistic and otherworldly.