Silent Film’s Raymond Griffith Pulled Tricksters Out of Top Hats
In Raymond Griffith: The Silk Hat Comedian, the two clever silent films Paths to Paradise and You’d Be Surprised, make a working-class hero out of a toff in a top hat.
In Raymond Griffith: The Silk Hat Comedian, the two clever silent films Paths to Paradise and You’d Be Surprised, make a working-class hero out of a toff in a top hat.
The Japanese-ness of the yakuza cycle in films like Violent Streets connects with the era’s newly violent, high-octane gangster movies functioning as national parables.
Despite starring Marlene Dietrich and Jean Gabin, Georges Lacombe’s 1946 crime drama, Martin Roumagnac isn’t famous or appreciated as it should be.
Rio belongs to no single genre but exists in its own world of Hollywood tomfoolery while reflecting the unsettled zeitgeist of a non-American world that’s glamorous and treacherous.
To some extent, György Fehér’s murder mystery, Twilight feels like a brooding film about Communist hangover, about an inability to breathe.
The final season of Barry irreparably breaks the mold of the tragicomedy genre and unflinchingly severs the umbilical cord between the audience and the protagonist(s).
The new crime drama Poker Face is one of the few TV shows to serve up an authentically represented vegan sensibility.
Brandon Cronenberg’s horror film Infinity Pool lets the intriguing concept of body doubles married to themes of crime and punishment and the class system, go to waste.
Michael Haneke’s films partly alienate viewers by demonstrating that his characters feel alienated from their lives, cultures, and themselves, so one form of alienation breeds another.
Despite an egregious running time and padded plot, the (maybe) conclusion to Keanu Reeves’ series, John Wick: Chapter 4, still serves up some of the original’s delightful weirdness.
French true crime adaptation The Night of the 12th (La nuit du 12) is a response to the fraught relationship between men and women, and the detective as metaphor.
French New Wave director Jean-Denis Bonan is among the cursed and damned filmmakers – revered by a few, reviled by most. His formerly shunned A Woman Kills (1968) slips out of the shadowy margins and appears for modern viewers.