“Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom” was the first August Wilson play I ever saw. And I saw it under ideal conditions, in the early ‘80s, in previews, before it made its official Broadway debut.
It was Humphrey Bogart, I think, who pointed out that the problem with the world is that everyone else is three drinks behind.
“The Prom” proves even Meryl Streep can make a mistake. For that matter, so can James Corden, Kerry Washington, Nicole Kidman and Keegan-Michael Key.
The title of David Fincher’s much-anticipated new movie is “Mank.” As in “stank.”
The best thing about “Hillbilly Elegy” is its title. As a book, it was of some interest, examining the dead-end existence that defines the South most of us don’t think about much.
Studies in free-floating anxiety are rarely as well done as the one in “The Nest,” a sort of haunted-house movie in which, despite hints to the contrary, the house is probably just fine.
Sofia Coppola has a huge crush on Bill Murray. So what? Most of us, male or female, have a huge crush on Bill Murray. For decades.
Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again. Unfortunately, it was the wrong Manderley. It was the recent Technicolor one inhabited by Lily James, Armie Hammer and Kristin Scott Thomas.
The name was Connery. Sean Connery. And nobody did Bond better. James Bond, that is.
First things first about the daring and absolutely hilarious “Borat Subsequent Moviefilm: Delivery of Prodigious Bribe to American Regime for Make Benefit Once Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan” – (hereafter to be known as “Borat 2”).
“The Trial of the Chicago 7,” Aaron Sorkin’s cracklingly good Netflix movie about what happened in Judge Julius Hoffman’s (Frank Langella) courtroom.
The year is 1968. Records are still records and landlines are still called telephones. Stonewall is a year away and the specter of AIDS lurks in a distant decade.
“The Glorias,” Julie Taymor’s take on the life and times of Gloria Steinem, is so muddled and off-putting that I'm going to cancel my subscription to Ms.magazine.
“Made in Italy” looks like a real movie. But like a cheap knock-off of a trendy gadget, it might as well be tagged “Made in Japan.”
Score one more for the wretchedness that is 2020. This past weekend, the seemingly indomitable Ruth Bader Ginsburg finally lost her long battle with cancer.
In some ways, “Feels Good Man” is much ado about not much.
Never mind being John Malkovich. Try being Charlie Kaufman. It would probably take Kaufman himself to pull that off, though there are those who’d say he’s already done it. That his movies, from “Adaptation” to “The Eternal ...
Not since I heard about Philip Seymour Hoffman and Robin Williams, have I been as stunned by an actor’s death as I was about Chadwick Boseman's.
Everything interesting about “Tesla” is on the edges. Like the macabre modern touches (Industrialist J.P. Morgan’s daughter, the movie’s narrator/potential love interest, coolly googles Tesla and his rival inventor, Edison, noting the latter has more than ...
The glowing green vial Madame Marie Sklodowska Curie keeps next to her bed isn’t the most radiant thing in “Radioactive.” That honor must go to Rosamund Pike whose spikey performance as Curie lights up what ...