By Ronald Metellus How do you go from being a Chicago punk rock act to the nation's most ubiquitous rock band in less than three years? Not easily...
Sports bras may be the unsung heroes of your workout gear. They don't get star-studded, inspiring ads the way your sneakers do. People don't wax on ab...
They're not the sort of images that one blinks at for a while before concluding that art is incomprehensible and wandering off in a state of alienation.
By Alex Koenig The Exploding Hearts sought to finish what their punk forefathers started. The Portland quartet donned ripped blue jeans and dishev...
In the end, G.I. Joe: Retaliation is a stupid film that ignores the potent ideas seemingly right at the surface in favor of unimaginative action and bland characters.
By Alex Koenig Reviewing a Strokes album for a new generation of fans requires reminiscence so let me take you on a trip down memory lane: The fiv...
Much like chocolate and peanut butter, Mork and Mindy, Jack and Coke, certain things just belong together. Which is why it's about time that the follo...
Olympus Has Fallen offers a level of jingoistic fear-mongering the likes of which are more commonly associated with a 1980s Chuck Norris vehicle. It isn't terribly smart and it peaks in the first act, but damned if I didn't enjoy the picture nonetheless.
It's hard not to give oneself over entirely to awe when regarding any of the great man-made wonders of the world. But there's always that moment when the docent or catalogue informs you of the horrific human cost of the endeavor
This is frankly a terrible film, but ever more disheartening because the material for a decent comedy so obviously exists within the botched final product. The Incredible Burt Wonderstone is a missed opportunity.
Park Chan-Wook's Stoker is a delicious hybrid of its influences, which mix into an engaging fable of its own.
The Nation's Ange Mlinko attempted recently to revise the reputation of the late poet Adrienne Rich in a wandering gesture at literary analysis. Readers of this review may find it difficult to tell if Mlinko wishes to gingerly embrace Rich -- or kill her off with a Big Thinky Gun.
As a vessel for social change, Snitch is an unlikely but inherently plausible vehicle. As a movie, it's the kind of old-school star-driven studio programmer that used to be the industry's stock-in-trade.
A Good Day to Die Hard is a terrible film, one of the very worst theatrical movies I have ever seen. It's willfully stupid, lacking in basic character chemistry and narrative discipline, officially turning John McClane into a borderline insane anti-social lunatic.
So much of Beautiful Creatures is so unexpectedly terrific that it's almost a tragedy when the picture eventually falls victim to its own plot.
Look, I could go on listing the ways in which this film is terrible, but why ramble? Just know that it's badly acted and badly written, with 90 percent of the entertainment value coming in the form of accidental and unintentional humor arising out of incompetence.
The Last Stand is a glorious return to form for a man who once dominated a genre that often feels on the brink of extinction.
There is potential for an absolutely fascinating character study hidden within Andrés Muschietti's Mama, but unfortunately the film feels content to follow the road oft-traveled in its genre.
Thanks to better working hours and cheaper travel, dining out in the cities where they work in or locales around the world is part of what it means to be a chef today; gone are days subsisting exclusively on family meals--or cigarettes, coffee, and amphetamines.
Gangster Squad is not a good movie. But it is that rarity in today's ultra-aware and uber-cynical age; a film so gleefully absurd and ridiculously cliched that it achieves a kind of skewed entertainment value.
On some level, now that everyone has an opinion, nobody's opinion really matters.
Quentin Tarantino arguably made Django Unchained because he wanted to try his hand at a Spaghetti Western, and that's basically what he has done. Alas, the film is little more than a genre exercise, with little more than the obvious role reversals to justify its artistic existence.
Warts and all, Jack Reacher is a winner and Tom Cruise once again proves why he's still a movie star. Still, the best thing I can say about Jack Reacher is that I kinda hope we get a sequel.
At the conclusion of The Fellowship of the Ring, I was completely on board for the next two pictures, completely invested in the world that had unfolded over the previous 170 minutes. This time around? I'm not entirely sure whether I'll stick it out for the next two films.
The harshest thing I can say about Tom Hooper's Les Misérables is that I can only imagine those who have not seen the original show wondering what the fuss has been all about.
