The Nation's film critic Stuart Klawans is author of the books Film Follies: The Cinema Out of Order (a finalist for the 1999 National Book Critics Circle Awards) and Left in the Dark: Film Reviews and Essays, 1988-2001. His film criticism and reviews for The Nation won the 2007 National Magazine Award. When not on deadline for The Nation, he contributes articles to the New York Times and other publications.
When James Agee wrote in these pages sixty years ago, he often
complained of the paltriness of this or that movie, as judged against
the events of the day.
A few years ago, when moviegoers in this country were just beginning to
learn about Abbas Kiarostami, I heard a crowd of New Yorkers berate him
for having put a snatch of Vivaldi onto a soundtr
If you've never watched Nelson Mandela dance, then you should know that
he does a modified Locomotion, pumping his elbows like pistons to the
immense, loving amusement of his people.
Since few of us at The Nation speak Thai, I'm going to refer to
my favorite filmmaker of the month as Joe, which is the name actually
used in this country by Apichatpong Weerasethakul.
If Elia Suleiman's face were a cartoon, then the single short, white
brush stroke dabbed into his black hair would perhaps be the beginning
of a thought balloon, perpetually forming above the l
Looking backward in the January chill, I feel my eyes shoot past the
films of 2002 toward a movie made some thirty years ago: a picture by
Martin Scorsese about violent, driven people in downto
I can think of no picture of recent years, other than Roman Polanski's
The Pianist, that has won the Palme d'Or at Cannes and yet
stirred neither controversy nor excitement.
Even without the aid of Smell-o-Vision, Charlie Kaufman's bedroom comes
across as dank.
November has been melodrama month at the movies. First Todd Haynes
brought us Far From Heaven, which he ought to have called
Imitation of Imitation.
Like a kid at an ice-cream counter, urging his friends to try the chocolate--like a writer of travel guides, warning tourists not to miss the Eiffel Tower--I come before you to praise Grand Il