Slant Magazine

Befitting its image-conscious milieu, The Devil Wears Prada 2 has the aspartame fake-sweetness and zero-calorie comfort of its predecessor: It’s charming enough in the moment but you’ll be hungry again half an hour later.

The slower it moves, the more obvious One Spoon of Chocolate’s deficiencies become.

Damian McCarthy threads the needle between supplying old-school scares and a richly layered character piece that also functions as a meditation on his own perspective as a storyteller.

Arnaud Desplechin’s film only flirts with questions about the sacrifices made for art.

In beautifully quiet ways, Two Seasons, Two Strangers captures its characters in the realm of the ineffable, making the mundane utterly sublime.

Once it turns into a home-invasion thriller, the film becomes more sadistic than hilarious.

Like the fraught relationship between its two musician characters, the film never finds the right groove.

The film turns the realities of a tragic, deeply complicated life into a sanitized popcorn film.

In lieu of any competently developed drama, we get a blitzkrieg of scares and gooey body horror that can best be described as arbitrary.

The film is a boldly theatrical pop exorcism where the wounds of the past serve as a gateway to forces that can consume or lift the possessed to ecstatic new levels of self-expression.