The first Ip Man was released theatrically in Hong Kong in the winter of 2008, with much success. The film grossed over $21M worldwide, despite not being released in North America and most of Europe. Following its success, the film was nominated for 12 Hong Kong Film Awards, best film and best action choreography, among others. The second one was released in Hong Kong in the spring of 2010. In all, Ip Man 2

Complaining that a Miranda July film is too quirky is like complaining that the Saw franchise is too violent. Anyone who ever dabbled in performance art from an early age has had that eccentric, overzealous, slightly creepy teacher: a dance instructor in a way-too-tight leotard, jiggling to New Age music, a drama teacher overemphasizing inflections of gibberish words—Miranda July is that performance artist. Frizzy-haired, pale, and willowy, looking like a cross between ...

We've reached the point that a significant portion of the English-speaking world--that bankrupt, riot-helmeted, penalty-kick-blowing island named England—has reduced acting to one thing: the ability to perfect the British accent.

The land of Olivier has ceased caring about things like sympathy, emotion, delivery, comic timing. They are only interested in an American's ability to speak

Coming off of The Social Network, Jesse Eisenberg slides way down the food chain. He plays a pizza driver caught up in a murder plot hatched by the nincompoop son of a lottery winner (Danny McBride) who wants to live the American dream of opening a tanning store that doubles as a brothel. To pay for a professional hit, his accomplice locks a bomb vest on the pizza boy's body to force him to rob a bank, which drags in a friendly teacher

Buck, about whom Cindy Meehl has made the eponymous documentary, is the original horse whisperer, the one on whom the book was based and the Robert Redford film made. Redford himself makes an appearance in the film describing how his first reaction on seeing the lanky man with the ten-gallon hat and the fringed outfit was “Oh,boy!” and how he soon realized what an impressive human being he was dealing with. That’s Buck.

You know someone is bad when news of their death, no matter how early or how gory, causes you to, if not actually rejoice (we’re too civilized for that) at least breathe lighter as if some evil force had finally been vanquished. Does this sound too melodramatic? Then it applies perfectly to Uday Hussein, son of infamous Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein who was killed along with his brother Qusay at the beginning of the U.S.-led invasion, to most people’s relief.

We’ve reached a crisis point in the American comedy: why can’t Jason Bateman get promoted or laid?

This summer's comedies are stocked with middle-aged men who dream of having sex but never do. That’s a healthy sign for marriage, I suppose. But if you’re a married dad who secretly wishes he could spread the seed again, do you want to spend $10 to go watch a movie about another guy who can’t, either?

The Caller is a very cool indie film coming out on August 26 which should assuredly scare the pants off you. Finally a thriller which borders on the horror genre but with a plot which you can sink your teeth in (and almost nothing in the way of gore or blood). Mary, a recently divorced young woman (Rachelle Lefevre) moves into an apartment which still seems inhabited by its former

Director John Michael McDonagh borrows Gleeson from his brother Martin (director of In Bruges) and gets a whale of a comic performance from him. He has different shades and levels in a way that an American comedy character would never have. Outside of the winning performances, McDonagh also gives us something comedies are often too afraid to give – a unique look born of the village in which it is set.

I have a simple rule about the success of an onscreen romance. A good one feels like a movie is conspiring to keep the couple apart. A bad one feels like the movie is shoving them together against the movie’s will. Crazy, Stupid, Love shoves like a school lunch line on chocolate milk Friday. The marriage of Steve Carell and Julianne Moore is cemetery dead, probably in a way that didn’t play to the writers on the page. The worst marriages are those that don’t just die but drown the two people with them.