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Cabaret (1972)

Liza Min­nel­li is fab­u­lous and de­served the Os­car she won for her role in this de­light­ful mu­si­cal that of­fers great per­for­mances from the rest of the cast and keeps us al­ways con­scious of an in­evitable dark­ness that lurks in the shad­ows to stand in the way of the char­ac­ters’ suc­cess.

Cab­in Fever (2002)

There is no oth­er way to put it, but Eli Roth is a dick — a ni­hilis­tic, misog­y­nist, ho­mo­pho­bic and racist dick — and this piece of crap is like a hor­ror movie made by Adam San­dler full of odi­ous char­ac­ters who are stu­pid be­yond be­lief, and I could­n’t wait to see that guy Bert get torn to pieces.

The Cab­in in the Woods (2012)

In times of re­al­i­ty shows, this type of meta-film is such a bril­liant idea, an in­cred­i­bly smart and thought-pro­vok­ing com­men­tary that plays with the con­ven­tions of the genre us­ing plen­ty of hu­mor, sharp irony and in­tel­li­gence — and the last half-hour is es­pe­cial­ly amaz­ing.

The Cab­i­net of Dr. Cali­gari (1920)

A ter­ri­fy­ing and high­ly in­flu­en­tial mile­stone of Ger­man Ex­pres­sion­ism, and also a rad­i­cal­ly anti-bour­geois work of art that in­tend­ed back then to ex­press with its chill­ing styl­ized vi­su­als the deep­est feel­ings of a post-war so­ci­ety in cri­sis and in search of artis­tic in­no­va­tion.

Cad­dyshack (1980)

Apart from a gen­er­al­ly ef­fec­tive slap­stick hu­mor and a few hi­lar­i­ous scenes (es­pe­cial­ly all those with Rod­ney Dan­ger­field), most­ly every­thing else feels old and dat­ed in this over­rat­ed com­e­dy that wastes the tal­ent of its cast in aw­ful lines of im­pro­vised di­a­logue and ju­ve­nile gags.

Cae­sar Must Die (2012)

An in­ter­est­ing docu­fic­tion that is both an in­tel­li­gent meta-nar­ra­tive feat and an im­por­tant record of a real pro­duc­tion — the stag­ing of Shake­speare in a prison. But above all, it shows how Art can have a trans­form­ing im­pact on even the most un­ex­pect­ed of peo­ple.

Café de Flo­re (2011)

The two types of love that it presents are not com­pa­ra­ble and the con­se­quences of Jacque­line’s ob­ses­sion are just lu­di­crous, but this is a mys­te­ri­ous­ly charm­ing film about how things change in our lives — and that won­der­ful song Café de Flo­re will prob­a­bly stick in your head.

Café Lu­mière (2003)

Hou’s moody trib­ute to Ozu is more re­veal­ing and sig­nif­i­cant from what is left un­said as it shows a woman in tran­sit (she spends a good part of the film on mov­ing trains) and who nev­er dis­cuss­es her preg­nan­cy with her tra­di­tion­al par­ents. Still, it left me a bit too cold to care.

Café So­ci­ety (2016)

A weak and self-in­dul­gent Woody Allen movie that lacks in fo­cus, struc­ture and wit, as it seems more con­cerned about ref­er­enc­ing dozens of Gold­en Age Hol­ly­wood stars than hav­ing a pur­pose and looks a lot more cliched than charm­ing, with a cheesy art di­rec­tion and cin­e­matog­ra­phy.

Cake (2014)

A true show­case for Anis­ton’s in­cred­i­ble — yet rarely seen — tal­ent for dra­mat­ic roles, giv­en how she brings so much weight to a safe dra­ma that nev­er takes risks and prefers the easy way with clichés, dreams and sil­ly hal­lu­ci­na­tions that would be­fit more a movie made for TV.

The Call (2013)

A con­ven­tion­al thriller that does­n’t try any­thing new but is de­vel­oped in a rel­a­tive­ly sat­is­fy­ing way for most of its run­ning time — un­til it col­laps­es in a ridicu­lous, laugh­able third act that only in­sults the view­ers’ in­tel­li­gence and be­lieves to be much smarter than it is.

Call Me by Your Name (2017)

Al­though it is not al­ways sub­tle and can be a bit rep­e­ti­tious some­times, this is a touch­ing com­ing-of-age dra­ma that ben­e­fits from an ex­cel­lent per­for­mance by Tim­o­th­ée Cha­la­met (a rev­e­la­tion) and un­der­stands so well the in­se­cu­ri­ties and an­guish that come with first love.

The Caller (2011)

Matthew Parkhill shows us once again that he is one of the worst di­rec­tors in the his­to­ry of Cin­e­ma with this ridicu­lous atroc­i­ty that does­n’t make any sense when you stop to think about it for two sec­onds and is equal­ly full of clichés and de­void of ac­tu­al thrills.

Cal­vary (2014)

Al­though the very idea that a Catholic priest in Ire­land would face such in­creas­ing re­jec­tion does not en­tire­ly con­vince me, this is a provoca­tive and iron­ic dra­ma cen­tered on a good­heart­ed but un­de­ni­ably hyp­o­crit­i­cal man who rep­re­sents an in­sti­tu­tion that has al­ways been a source of pain to so many peo­ple.

Cam (2018)

With great vi­su­als and a clever script full of red her­rings that work like a charm, this movie can be en­joyed not only as a grip­ping and of­ten tense cy­berthriller but also as a mod­ern com­men­tary on a par­tic­u­lar type of misog­y­ny that wants to de­hu­man­ize fe­male adult en­ter­tain­ers.

Cama de Gato (2002)

The choice of songs is ter­ri­ble and Stock­ler’s ado­les­cent di­rec­tion is some­times ex­ag­ger­at­ed to the point of hys­ter­i­cal, but I like the en­er­gy and fresh­ness that he in­jects into it (an iron­ic an­swer to Dog­ma 95), even if he sounds like a teenag­er who just learned to use a cam­era.

Camille Rewinds (2012)

Need­less to say, there is not much orig­i­nal­i­ty in this or­di­nary com­e­dy that reuses the cliched plot of the char­ac­ter who goes back in time to have a sec­ond chance in life. Even so, the sto­ry proves to be more en­joy­able than it leads us to imag­ine.

Can You Ever For­give Me? (2018)

The im­pres­sion I have is that this is a film strug­gling to find some­thing to say with the ma­te­r­i­al it has, but the re­sult, how­ev­er dull at times, man­ages to be en­joy­able and in­ter­est­ing thanks to Mc­Carthy and Grant, who are both too good and have an ex­cel­lent chem­istry to­geth­er.

The Canal (2014)

Ka­vanagh is an ex­cel­lent di­rec­tor who cares about build­ing a dis­turb­ing, eerie at­mos­phere with a su­perb cin­e­matog­ra­phy and sound de­sign, and the re­sult is a ter­ri­fy­ing movie that could have re­al­ly be­come a clas­sic if it weren’t for its last ten min­utes with such a sil­ly, clichéd twist.

As Canções (2011)

Even though it is sim­pler and less am­bi­tious than Coutinho’s pre­vi­ous films, this is a sur­pris­ing col­lec­tion of con­ver­sa­tions with peo­ple who sub­tly re­veal a lot about them­selves and how some of the songs they con­sid­er to be ro­man­tic are in fact dis­turbing­ly sex­ist and misog­y­nis­tic.

Can­dy­man (1992)

An eerie, scary and sur­pris­ing­ly ef­fi­cient hor­ror film that in­vests in an at­mos­pher­ic score and an in­trigu­ing mys­tery about a liv­ing ru­mor who can only be real through his spooky leg­end — and it firm­ly keeps its roots in the real world while the gore nev­er feels un­nec­es­sary.

Can­dy­man: Farewell to the Flesh (1995)

This lame se­quel is in­co­her­ent with re­gard to the first movie and full of cheap scares fol­lowed by some stu­pid ex­plod­ing sound. But even worst is to see that the bril­liant idea of Can­dy­man be­ing a liv­ing ru­mor is re­placed by a ghost-in-the-mir­ror curse.

Can­ni­bal (2013)

The beau­ti­ful cin­e­matog­ra­phy and pro­duc­tion de­sign il­lus­trate per­fect­ly the char­ac­ter’s metic­u­lous­ness and tidi­ness, but it is a pity, though, that what could have been an in­trigu­ing char­ac­ter study gets un­der­mined by an ar­ti­fi­cial and naive at­tempt at a bizarre love sto­ry.

Can­ni­bal Holo­caust (1980)

The real an­i­mal killing is re­volt­ing but still this con­tro­ver­sial and trashy piece of B hor­ror de­liv­ers well what it wants to say about the me­dia and jour­nal­ists who go way too far for the sake of in­sane sen­sa­tion­al­ism — even if De­oda­to seems to be do­ing the same in the process.

The Canyons (2013)

Apart from Lo­han, al­most every­one else in the cast is just lame (Deen should stay in porn) and has to de­liv­er some ridicu­lous ex­po­si­tion amid an at­mos­phere of cheap soft-porn — and noth­ing can jus­ti­fy the com­bined tal­ents of Schrad­er and El­lis lead­ing to this point­less bore.

Cape Fear (1991)

A styl­ish neo-noir from Mar­tin Scors­ese, more main­stream than the rest of his work but still with his per­son­al touch. It is a smart and an­guish­ing thriller that takes a good time to build ten­sion and boasts a ter­ri­fy­ing per­for­mance by De Niro as the psy­chopath Max Cady.

Ca­per­naum (2018)

Zain Al Rafeea is a ter­rif­ic rev­e­la­tion in this pow­er­ful and pro­found­ly dev­as­tat­ing look at the mis­er­able ex­is­tence of a poor child who, like many oth­ers, de­served so much more from life — and I’m pret­ty sure his eyes of in­fi­nite sad­ness will haunt me for the rest of my life af­ter this.

Cap­i­tal­ism: A Love Sto­ry (2009)

Michael Moore is more se­ri­ous than ever be­fore, of­fer­ing us an­oth­er very well-edit­ed and thought-out doc­u­men­tary that man­ages to leave us out­raged and in­dig­nant just as well over what peo­ple and a cor­rupt sys­tem are ca­pa­ble of do­ing for mon­ey.

Cap­tain Amer­i­ca: The First Avenger (2011)

An­oth­er for­get­table pre­quel to The Avengers that does­n’t seem to be some­thing of its own, with a plot that is most­ly dull, ac­tion scenes that are unim­pres­sive for a su­per­hero movie, and a poor­ly de­vel­oped vil­lain with unin­spired plans of de­stroy­ing the world.

Cap­tain Amer­i­ca: The Win­ter Sol­dier (2014)

While its first half is ex­treme­ly good, well paced and has elec­tri­fy­ing ac­tion scenes, the movie soon be­comes bloat­ed with sil­ly rev­e­la­tions and twists. Be­sides, the plot also in­cludes quite a few ab­sur­di­ties that de­mand a lot of our sus­pen­sion of dis­be­lief.

Cap­tain Amer­i­ca: Civ­il War (2016)

Fi­nal­ly an Avengers movie I was wait­ing for this whole time: com­plex, in­tel­li­gent and ex­hil­a­rat­ing as it di­vides our he­roes into two ri­val groups at war against each oth­er — each char­ac­ter with com­pelling mo­ti­va­tions for their choic­es and ac­tions, just as well as the smart vil­lain.

Cap­tain Fan­tas­tic (2016)

An ir­re­sistible and in­tel­li­gent film that un­der­stands the fas­ci­nat­ing com­plex­i­ty of its main char­ac­ter, his ques­tion­able ac­tions and the way he be­lieves to be the best to raise his chil­dren — which in­spires our sym­pa­thy even more thanks to Mortensen’s splen­did per­for­mance.

Cap­tain Mar­vel (2019)

Every­thing is so per­func­to­ry and life­less in this movie that I al­most fell asleep sev­er­al times while watch­ing it, and I can’t see any good rea­son why this sto­ry had to be told ex­cept for the ob­vi­ous fact that it wants to in­tro­duce a char­ac­ter who is sup­posed to be im­por­tant lat­er.

Cap­tain Phillips (2013)

Green­grass proves once again that he can build ap­pre­hen­sion and sus­tain it like few can, even when we have a good idea of where the plot is head­ing, and Han­ks’ in­cred­i­ble per­for­mance rais­es it from ex­treme­ly ur­gent to a deeply mov­ing, heart­break­ing ex­pe­ri­ence.

The Cap­tive (2014)

A movie so sil­ly and ba­nal that it may take us a bit longer than usu­al to re­al­ize how ac­tu­al­ly stu­pid, im­plau­si­ble and emp­ty it is once it is over, with an aw­ful amount of ex­pos­i­to­ry di­a­logue, poor­ly-de­vel­oped char­ac­ters and a non-lin­ear struc­ture adopt­ed for no pur­pose at all.

Cap­tur­ing the Fried­mans (2003)

While An­drew Jarec­ki is not re­al­ly hon­est about the in­for­ma­tion he pro­vides, es­pe­cial­ly as he does­n’t even in­ter­views more vic­tims, this is still a shock­ing and hor­rid­ly trag­ic sto­ry that calls into se­ri­ous ques­tion the ve­rac­i­ty of ac­cu­sa­tions taint­ed by the me­dia and pub­lic opin­ion.

Caran­cho (2010)

A spec­tac­u­lar thriller, grip­ping, vis­cer­al and di­rect­ed with an in­tense re­al­ism by Trap­ero, who uses a hand­held cam­era and long takes to sim­u­late a doc­u­men­tary style and keep the au­di­ence in­cred­i­bly tense — and the last scene is ful­mi­nat­ing, al­most dri­ving the view­ers to a heart at­tack.

Carandiru (2003)

It may be in­ter­est­ing as a col­lec­tion of chron­i­cles about life in a Brazil­ian prison, but sad­ly this is a frus­trat­ing­ly su­per­fi­cial and sim­plis­tic film that does­n’t dis­cuss the ac­tu­al caus­es of the re­volt that led to the Carandiru mas­sacre, be­ing also un­even and full of aw­ful talk­ing heads.

Car­los (2010)

Ramirez is out­stand­ing in this biopic that ex­plores the am­bigu­ous na­ture of a rev­o­lu­tion­ary ter­ror­ist fer­vent­ly de­vot­ed to a cause but who was also a self-cen­tered man want­i­ng to hold pow­er over those around him — and even more fas­ci­nat­ing is how the char­ac­ter needs to adapt to the many changes that oc­cur in the world along twen­ty years. Ex­cel­lent, but make sure you watch the full 330-minute ver­sion, not the con­densed one.

Car­lota Joaquina, Princess of Brazil (1995)

What is the point of telling the life sto­ry of a princess and not do­ing any­thing with it? Every­thing is so life­less and di­dac­tic, the ac­cents are ridicu­lous, the sense of hu­mor is aw­ful and it is hard to be­lieve that this was the movie that caused the re­sump­tion of Brazil­ian cin­e­ma in the 1990s.

Car­nage (2011)

A very fun­ny com­e­dy of man­ners adapt­ed from an ac­claimed play and el­e­gant­ly di­rect­ed, even if a bit repet­i­tive af­ter some time — and it takes place en­tire­ly in­side an apart­ment, sus­tained by a sharp di­a­logue and ex­quis­ite per­for­mances, with Winslet and Waltz steal­ing the show.

Carne (1991)

Carne is a vis­cer­al and shock­ing ar­t­house short sto­ry, a sol­id forty-minute pre­lude to Noé’s fan­tas­tic full-length film I Stand Alone, su­perbly edit­ed and craft­ed like no oth­er di­rec­tor would.

Car­ni­val of Souls (1962)

I can see how this hor­ror movie in­spired many oth­ers that came af­ter; in any case, de­spite a sol­id be­gin­ning, there is­n’t much here to com­pen­sate for the fact that it is so un­ex­cit­ing, pre­dictable, poor­ly act­ed, un­scary and man­ages to be very bor­ing with only 78 min­utes.

Car­ol (2015)

The fact that this ab­sorb­ing ro­mance ex­ists (and de­serves) to be told is a trag­ic in­di­ca­tion of an out­ra­geous in­tol­er­ance that has­n’t been left in the past but sad­ly per­sists even to­day, and it is a beau­ti­ful­ly-di­rect­ed film with two won­der­ful cen­tral per­for­mances and a gor­geous score.

Car­rie (1976)

De Pal­ma sur­pris­es us with his splen­did de­ci­sion of mak­ing a very del­i­cate and emo­tion­al­ly res­o­nant dra­ma from King’s nov­el (with a mag­nif­i­cent di­rec­tion, even if not so well edit­ed), leav­ing the hor­ror only for the trag­ic cli­mac­tic ex­plo­sion of blood and fire in the end.

Car­rie (2013)

This pass­able re­make is proof that you can redo a great film in a dif­fer­ent way and still ob­tain an ef­fec­tive re­sult, even if far from the same lev­el of qual­i­ty — and most of its faults can be at­trib­uted to styl­is­tic ex­cess­es and ob­vi­ous in­con­sis­ten­cies that ap­pear in the end.

Car­ro de Bois (1974)

Though I’m par­tic­u­lar­ly tak­en aback by this type of solemn mythi­fi­ca­tion of an in­stru­ment of an­i­mal slav­ery, I can’t deny how well made, po­et­ic and in­for­ma­tive Mau­ro’s film is about a sub­ject only few of us would prob­a­bly care to know about.

Cars 2 (2011)

En­ter­tain­ing but un­nec­es­sary, this ir­reg­u­lar se­quel is the weak­est film made by Pixar so far. It wise­ly goes for some­thing dif­fer­ent from the first movie but still suf­fers from unin­spired gags, a de­plorable eco­log­i­cal mes­sage and a stu­pid twist in the end.

Car­tel Land (2015)

What is most ad­mirable in this ex­cel­lent film is how Heine­man risks his life in the mid­dle of the cross­fire with his cam­era so that he can show us this trag­ic, ap­palling and com­plex sit­u­a­tion to which there seems to be no so­lu­tion and where one step for­ward means two steps back.

Casa Grande (2014)

A bril­liant dra­ma that man­ages to be both de­press­ing and hi­lar­i­ous in the bit­ing, un­apolo­getic way that it ex­pos­es near­ly every malaise deep-root­ed in Brazil­ian so­ci­ety, al­ways hit­ting with re­mark­able sharp­ness where it shoots and not let­ting any­one es­cape the heavy blow.

Casablan­ca (1942)

This un­de­ni­able clas­sic is al­ways charm­ing and ir­re­sistible, even if far from per­fect — the char­ac­ters, for in­stance, do not al­ways act con­sis­tent­ly with their per­son­al­i­ties. But we’ll al­ways have the love, the clas­sic lines, the time­less scenes and that un­for­get­table tune.

Case of the Naves Broth­ers (1967)

It may seem clin­i­cal at times, but this is a com­pelling (and dis­turb­ing) film based on a re­volt­ing real sto­ry that be­came known as one of the great­est mis­car­riages of jus­tice in Brazil­ian His­to­ry and which pub­licly ex­posed the abus­es com­mit­ted in times of mil­i­tary dic­ta­tor­ship.

Cás­sia (2014)

The best type of doc­u­men­tary is the one that does­n’t let us no­tice when a spe­cif­ic sub­ject ends and the next be­gins, which is the case here: a com­pre­hen­sive, fas­ci­nat­ing and touch­ing film edit­ed into a uni­form flow of in­for­ma­tion with­out ever seem­ing ir­reg­u­lar or less than bril­liant.

Cas­tan­ha (2014)

By not al­ways al­low­ing us to see where re­al­i­ty ends and fic­tion be­gins (which makes en­tire sense con­sid­er­ing what its pro­tag­o­nist does for a liv­ing), Pret­to’s en­thralling piece of docu­fic­tion feels like ciné­ma vérité as he lets us sim­ply ob­serve and par­tic­i­pate in this char­ac­ter’s life.

Cas­tle in the Sky (1986)

Miyaza­ki is a ver­sa­tile artist who can make just as many thought-pro­vok­ing sto­ries as lighter ones. This one ranks among the lat­ter, a very de­light­ful an­i­ma­tion that has its share of sil­li­er mo­ments but makes up for them with a lot of fun and ad­ven­ture.

The Cas­tle of Cagliostro (1979)

Miyaza­k­i’s di­rec­to­r­i­al de­but is an en­ter­tain­ing film that makes for a lot of fun with a very charis­mat­ic char­ac­ter in its cen­ter, al­though the ac­tion-packed plot is noth­ing spe­cial and cer­tain­ly not in the lev­el of his bet­ter works that came af­ter.

Cat Peo­ple (1942)

I guess this must have been scary when it was re­leased in 1942, but to­day it is def­i­nite­ly not scary at all and only seems ter­ri­bly pre­ten­tious, try­ing to look more pro­found than it is and get­ting dull real fast with end­less ex­po­si­tion and a lame pro­tag­o­nist played by an aw­ful ac­tress.

Cat Skin (1962)

Even more im­pres­sive than this short film’s fast-cut par­al­lel edit­ing is its touch­ing and dev­as­tat­ing­ly sad end­ing that il­lus­trates Brazil’s open wound of pover­ty and so­cial in­equal­i­ty, all in the (equal­ly im­pres­sive) con­cise run­ning time of 12 min­utes.

The Cave (2019)

Along with the su­pe­ri­or For Sama, here is an­oth­er doc­u­men­tary re­leased this year cov­er­ing the same sub­ject (the civ­il war in Syr­ia) from the per­spec­tive of a woman, the main dif­fer­ence be­ing that this one is too pre­oc­cu­pied with look­ing good, which makes things look also re­hearsed some­times.

Ce­cil B. De­ment­ed (2000)

At first, it seems like John Wa­ters wants to make an au­da­cious hate let­ter to main­stream cin­e­ma with some nice mo­ments of bril­liance, but then you re­al­ize his “rev­o­lu­tion­ar­ies” are a bunch of freak­ing tards and the film gets too over-the-top and all over the place to have a point.

The Cel­e­bra­tion (1998)

The first film of the Dogme 95 move­ment is this riv­et­ing — and re­mark­ably well put to­geth­er — amal­gam of hi­lar­i­ous farce and dev­as­tat­ing fam­i­ly dra­ma, where the dirty laun­dry is washed in an ex­treme­ly re­veal­ing crit­i­cism of a bour­geoisie try­ing to main­tain its sta­tus quo.

Ce­leste & Jesse For­ev­er (2012)

An en­joy­able rom-com that finds it­self smarter and more in­sight­ful than it re­al­ly is, but still it ben­e­fits from a great chem­istry be­tween the adorable leads — and Jones proves that she is quite tal­ent­ed enough to car­ry a film on her shoul­ders.

The Cell (2000)

It is cer­tain­ly a gor­geous film to look at but the plot is weak­ened by the fact that Jen­nifer Lopez is se­ri­ous­ly mis­cast and not at all con­vinc­ing as a psy­chi­a­trist well suit­ed for her job, es­pe­cial­ly giv­en how the char­ac­ter’s mo­ti­va­tions are so un­pro­fes­sion­al and con­fus­ing in the last act.

Ceme­tery of Splen­dour (2015)

What could be more iron­ic than a film about sol­diers falling asleep be­ing such an in­suf­fer­able drag to watch? — and Mr. Weerasethakul proves once again what a pre­ten­tious fraud he is, throw­ing just about any crap on the screen and know­ing that his fans will love it no mat­ter what.

Cen­sored Voic­es (2015)

A pro­found­ly re­volt­ing and eye-open­ing doc­u­men­tary that ex­pos­es the tragedy of Zion­ism through cen­sored archive records in which Is­raeli sol­diers re­count the atroc­i­ties they com­mit­ted in the Six-Day War and which aren’t so dif­fer­ent from what was done to the Jews in the Holo­caust.

Cen­tral Sta­tion (1998)

Warm and deeply mov­ing, this is not your typ­i­cal road movie but a won­der­ful dra­ma that will make you laugh, cry and in the end feel like you got to know these char­ac­ters and shared this unique ex­pe­ri­ence with them — a mer­it also of its two mag­nif­i­cent cen­tral per­for­mances.

Cer­tain Women (2016)

It is very un­in­ter­est­ing and dull to watch the ba­nal­i­ty of these wom­en’s lives, and while the film does have a good cast, I can’t find any mean­ing in this poor­ly-put-to­geth­er an­thol­o­gy of which only the last sto­ry seems to have some­thing to say af­ter all.

Cer­ti­fied Copy (2010)

A bril­liant dra­ma that be­gins with a re­al­is­tic ap­proach but then sud­den­ly shifts to a more sur­re­al­is­tic tone af­ter halfway through, be­com­ing so emo­tion­al­ly in­volv­ing and rais­ing a fas­ci­nat­ing dis­cus­sion about our per­cep­tion of the val­ue of Art — orig­i­nal or not.

Chained (2012)

Where­as David Lynch is a mas­ter of cre­at­ing great psy­cho­log­i­cal sto­ries full of sym­bol­ism, his daugh­ter Jen­nifer al­ways bare­ly scratch­es the sur­face, here with an­oth­er ob­vi­ous film that is not re­al­ly well con­ceived, be it lit­er­al­ly or metaphor­i­cal­ly (as a tale of parental “chains”), and the end is aw­ful.

The Changeling (1980)

An en­gag­ing ghost sto­ry that de­serves more cred­it for its twisty plot, un­com­fort­able at­mos­phere and Medak’s re­fined di­rec­tion than for be­ing ac­tu­al­ly scary (even though it does have its creepy mo­ments), and it boasts a very fine per­for­mance by George C. Scott.

Changeling (2008)

East­wood’s firm di­rec­tion and An­geli­na Jolie’s pow­er­ful per­for­mance help make this a grip­ping film that is as tough to watch as it is def­i­nite­ly re­ward­ing, and it fea­tures a fab­u­lous pro­duc­tion de­sign and cin­e­matog­ra­phy as well.

Un Chant d’Amour (1950)

The only film made by the con­tro­ver­sial play­wright Jean Genet — an ex­treme­ly sen­su­al and provoca­tive ho­mo­erot­ic tale that was cer­tain­ly ahead of its time, with so much pow­er­ful im­agery and in­tense de­sire over­flow­ing from the screen.

Chap­lin (1992)

A stu­pen­dous biopic cen­tered on the life of the per­fec­tion­ist ge­nius ob­sessed with his work that was Charles Chap­lin, and it boasts a spec­tac­u­lar pro­duc­tion de­sign, a mar­velous script, a beau­ti­ful score and Robert Downey Jr. in one of his most amaz­ing per­for­mances.

Chap­pie (2015)

The first two acts are clum­sy and over­stuffed, with so many plot holes and in­con­sis­ten­cies that it feels like a self-par­o­dy, but still it gets saved from be­ing a com­plete dis­as­ter by stun­ning spe­cial ef­fects, an ex­cel­lent score and a thrilling third act that of­fers amaz­ing ac­tion scenes.

Cha­rade (1963)

De­spite the vis­i­ble age dif­fer­ence, Cary Grant and Au­drey Hep­burn dis­play a nice chem­istry to­geth­er in this charm­ing blend of Hitch­cock­ian thriller and screw­ball com­e­dy — a clas­sic spy film that ben­e­fits from a de­li­cious sense of hu­mor and a fan­tas­tic, sus­pense­ful con­clu­sion.

Char­i­ots of Fire (1981)

It is cer­tain­ly over­rat­ed and does­n’t jus­ti­fy the many Os­cars it won/was nom­i­nat­ed to, but still it is tech­ni­cal­ly com­pe­tent (es­pe­cial­ly Van­ge­lis’ mu­sic and the film’s edit­ing) even if it is also a bit too con­ven­tion­al and slows down in its sec­ond half al­most to the speed of a tur­tle.

Char­i­ots of the Gods (1970)

Some of the mys­ter­ies are in­trigu­ing, yes, but the fact that many of Däniken’s claims have been proved false calls into ques­tion the whole ve­rac­i­ty of every­thing else; not that it changes much, though, since his ideas are a pile of spec­u­la­tive rub­bish based on pseu­do-sci­en­tif­ic fal­lac­i­es.

Char­lie Says (2018)

There is a great sto­ry lost some­where in this frus­trat­ing­ly su­per­fi­cial film that fails to of­fer any ac­tu­al in­sight into what led those women do the hor­rif­ic things they did, and we are even un­able to grasp Leslie’s mo­ti­va­tions for not back­ing out when she was of­fered a chance to do so.

The Chas­er (2008)

A sur­pris­ing and in­tel­li­gent Ko­re­an se­r­i­al killer thriller that de­fies the view­er’s ex­pec­ta­tions at every turn and com­bines taut sus­pense with black hu­mor to in­sert an un­like­ly (anti-)hero in a com­plete­ly un­pre­dictable plot and hold the au­di­ence by the throat.

Chas­ing Amy (1997)

Joey Lau­ren Adams got on my nerves with her grat­ing voice, but even so it is hard not to fall in love with this adorable and fun­ny movie (the di­a­logue is sim­ply won­der­ful) as Kevin Smith trans­lates in such a sur­pris­ing­ly heart­felt and sin­cere way the com­pli­ca­tions of be­ing in love.

Chas­ing Ice (2012)

A ter­ri­fy­ing film that of­fers both a stun­ning col­lec­tion of im­ages and an in­dis­putable ev­i­dence of glob­al cli­mate change. It is only a pity, though, that it los­es some of its fo­cus want­i­ng to praise Balog’s ef­forts and does­n’t pro­pose any real sci­en­tif­ic so­lu­tion for the prob­lem.

Chatô: The King of Brazil (2015)

Af­ter twen­ty years of wait­ing, it is so iron­ic to fi­nal­ly see that this Brazil­ian mix of Cit­i­zen Kane and Lola Mon­tès is a splen­did film that uses a hi­lar­i­ous sense of hu­mor and a con­fu­sion of throm­bot­ic hal­lu­ci­na­tions and mem­o­ries to make us see it from the point of view of an un­re­li­able nar­ra­tor.

Che: Part One (2008)

Soder­bergh’s po­lit­i­cal bi­og­ra­phy about Che Gue­vara and his in­volve­ment in the Cuban Rev­o­lu­tion is ex­pert­ly di­rect­ed and even feels like a doc­u­men­tary, but is also frus­trat­ing as it shows him as a near­ly flaw­less hero and avoids any of the con­tro­ver­sies sur­round­ing his char­ac­ter.

Che: Part Two (2008)

This well-made sec­ond chap­ter of Soder­bergh’s two-part epic, cen­tered now on Che in the Bo­li­vian guer­ril­la, is more ob­jec­tive than the first one and does a bet­ter job por­tray­ing the char­ac­ter more as a man than a hero, which helps make it a slight im­prove­ment over Part 1.

Chef (2014)

This seems more like a project of pure ego­cen­trism and self-in­dul­gence from Jon Favreau, as he plays an id­iot sur­round­ed by gor­geous women like Sofia Ver­gara and Scar­lett Jo­hans­son in a feel-good sto­ry that will only feel good to him­self — re­al­ly, it does­n’t even have a real con­flict.

Chérie (2009)

Al­though not re­al­ly in­volv­ing nor ex­act­ly com­pelling, this ro­man­tic dra­ma based on Co­lette is at least charm­ing, with a won­der­ful pro­duc­tion de­sign and a nice chem­istry be­tween Pfeif­fer and Friend.

Cher­ry Pop (2017)

It does have its fun­ny in­spired mo­ments, but as a whole this is a stu­pid and poor­ly-di­rect­ed com­e­dy that suf­fers from more miss­es than hits, with an ir­ri­tat­ing nar­ra­tion, cheap lip-sync­ing, no sense of ba­sic chronol­o­gy and a mes­sage that is more in­sult­ing than any­thing else.

Chick­en Run (2000)

An ex­hil­a­rat­ing stop-mo­tion an­i­ma­tion that is not only im­pres­sive­ly well made and vi­su­al­ly spec­tac­u­lar but above all else should be proud of its de­li­cious sto­ry full of adorable char­ac­ters, hi­lar­i­ous di­a­logue and amaz­ing ac­tion scenes, mak­ing for so much fun.

Chico: Artista Brasileiro (2015)

As a doc­u­men­tary that wants to find out who the man is as a per­son and an artist (like some kind of in­for­mal di­a­logue with him) in­stead of fo­cus­ing on his life his­to­ry in a typ­i­cal­ly di­dac­tic man­ner (which does­n’t have any­thing ex­cep­tion­al, re­al­ly), this is a pro­found­ly warm­heart­ed ex­pe­ri­ence.

Un Chien An­dalou (1929)

A mind-blow­ing piece of work that rep­re­sents a land­mark in Cin­e­ma due to its fan­tas­tic bold­ness for the time it came out, mak­ing use of Freudi­an sym­bol­ism not only to take us in a dream-like sur­re­al­ist ex­pe­ri­ence but also to chal­lenge the very con­cep­tion of nar­ra­tive.

Child 44 (2015)

It would­n’t be hard to for­give this messy thriller for its ex­pos­i­to­ry di­a­logue and for be­ing too long and con­fus­ing about its pur­pose, but it is im­pos­si­ble to over­look the way it in­sults our in­tel­li­gence with a ridicu­lous, one-di­men­sion­al vil­lain and laugh­able plot ab­sur­di­ties.

Child’s Pose (2013)

Ghe­o­rghiu is fab­u­lous as the mon­strous, over-con­trol­ling bour­geois moth­er in this sharp amal­gam of so­cial cri­tique and fam­i­ly dra­ma that even man­ages to make us feel pity to­wards her, con­vey­ing a world of com­plex­i­ties in its de­tails, di­a­logue and char­ac­ters’ be­hav­ior.

The Chil­dren Act (2017)

Emma Thomp­son is ex­tra­or­di­nary as she can be, but in a film that is even more un­in­ter­est­ing and con­fused than McE­wan’s nov­el, as this feels like two sto­ries brought clum­si­ly to­geth­er and suf­fers from not even be­ing able to vi­su­al­ly trans­late so many de­scribed feel­ings onto the screen.

Chil­dren of a Less­er God (1986)

A sin­cere and touch­ing dra­ma with laud­able per­for­mances by William Hurt and Mar­lee Matlin, whose won­der­ful chem­istry to­geth­er al­ways con­vinces us of their char­ac­ters’ feel­ings for each oth­er and of the real, au­then­tic dif­fi­cul­ties they meet in their re­la­tion­ship.

Chil­dren of Heav­en (1997)

It feels al­most im­pos­si­ble not to love these two adorable young chil­dren who car­ry on their shoul­ders this beau­ti­ful tale of in­no­cence, pover­ty and com­pas­sion — a film that pulls us with such pow­er into the sit­u­a­tion faced by its char­ac­ters that we can’t be left un­moved.

The Chil­dren’s Hour (1961)

From a moral point of view, this is a ter­ri­bly out­dat­ed dra­ma (even if dar­ing for then) that serves as a por­trait of an ugly time when it would be con­sid­ered a dan­ger for chil­dren to be “ex­posed” to les­bian teach­ers — which the film some­times also seems to agree as be­ing “un­nat­ur­al.”

The Chi­na Syn­drome (1979)

An ef­fec­tive­ly tense thriller that must have been even more ter­ri­fy­ing when it came out, when fear of nu­clear pow­er was greater, and it is very well di­rect­ed (the car chase scene is nerve-wrack­ing) and has three amaz­ing per­for­mances from its leads, es­pe­cial­ly Jack Lem­mon.

Chi­na­town (1974)

An ex­treme­ly com­plex film noir full of mys­tery and in­tel­li­gent twists that keep us al­ways guess­ing and try­ing to put to­geth­er the pieces of the puz­zle, while its bril­liant script is only matched by Polan­ski’s ex­cel­lent di­rec­tion and Jack Nichol­son’s nu­anced per­for­mance.

A Chi­nese Ghost Sto­ry (1987)

An odd, en­ter­tain­ing and very fun­ny su­per­nat­ur­al ro­mance that blends hor­ror and slap­stick hu­mor quite ef­fi­cient­ly, with great spe­cial ef­fects and a lot of style, even though the mu­si­cal num­bers are pret­ty em­bar­rass­ing and the end is a bit frus­trat­ing.

Chi­nese Take-Away (2011)

A de­light­ful film that is not only hi­lar­i­ous but also sur­pris­ing­ly touch­ing, and it nev­er suc­cumbs to cheap melo­dra­ma, re­main­ing be­liev­able all the time — even with such an odd premise. Also, Ri­car­do Darín is ex­cel­lent as al­ways, pro­vid­ing the sto­ry with some very fun­ny mo­ments.

Chloe (2009)

Per­haps it should have been called Fa­tal At­trac­tion 2, since de­spite his as­sured di­rec­tion Egoy­an does­n’t seem to re­al­ize how in­cred­i­bly pre­dictable his movie is, with a sil­ly plot that also de­fies cred­i­bil­i­ty es­pe­cial­ly re­gard­ing the ac­tions of Ju­lianne Moore’s char­ac­ter.

The Cho­rus (2004)

It is very easy to feel en­chant­ed by the beau­ti­ful songs and the ac­ces­si­ble, for­mu­la­ic nar­ra­tive, but the prob­lem is that this film is in fact a sil­ly fan­ta­sy that could hard­ly take place in real life, with a pre­dictable plot and all those clichés found in movies about in­spi­ra­tional teach­ers.

Cho­rus (2015)

A strange­ly cold dra­ma that does­n’t leave us much room for emo­tion­al in­vest­ment or for any­thing that we haven’t felt be­fore in su­pe­ri­or films about loss, and it is hard to get past the in­tru­sive voice-over and the char­ac­ters’ self-pity that some­times bor­ders on masochism.

Chris­tiane F. (1981)

De­spite hav­ing a dry struc­ture and per­for­mances that can be a bit stiff some­times, the film evokes an in­tense feel­ing of hope­less­ness (es­pe­cial­ly when we see the city of Berlin bathed in blue) and can be hor­rif­ic in its graph­ic de­pic­tion of drug abuse by lost teenagers.

Chris­tine (1983)

The few changes made in the orig­i­nal sto­ry only weak­ens this flawed adap­ta­tion and makes its premise seem even more lu­di­crous than it al­ready is, but at least all this is com­pen­sat­ed well enough by the movie’s style, ex­pert edit­ing and Car­pen­ter’s firm di­rec­tion.

A Christ­mas Car­ol (2009)

As an adap­ta­tion of a clas­sic sto­ry that has been told so many times, this is an im­pres­sive­ly well-made mo­tion cap­ture an­i­ma­tion with a very fine per­for­mance by Jim Car­rey. Even so, it would have been bet­ter if Ze­meck­is had left out some of its end­less roller-coast­er-ride mo­ments.

Christ­mas Cot­tage (2008)

I hate these lit­tle Christ­mas fam­i­ly melo­dra­mas, and this is a very cheap one with nice per­for­mances but very lit­tle else worth notic­ing apart from the fact that Jared Padalec­ki is a strik­ing­ly hand­some young ac­tor, and that’s it.

Chron­ic (2015)

It may be slow for some view­ers and the con­clu­sion rather dis­ap­point­ing, but those with pa­tience will find a sen­si­tive char­ac­ter study that ben­e­fits from a del­i­cate per­for­mance by Tim Roth, re­mind­ing us of the pow­er of sub­tle­ty and res­o­nance of what is not said out loud.

Chron­i­cle (2012)

The struc­ture is a re­fresh­ing nov­el­ty for this kind of sto­ry but also the weak point here, with footage ob­tained from sev­er­al dif­fer­ent sources (which would be im­prac­ti­ca­ble) and peo­ple film­ing even in il­log­i­cal cir­cum­stances. Even so, the char­ac­ters are well de­vel­oped and the cli­max quite thrilling.

The Chron­i­cles of Nar­nia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (2005)

The first-rate spe­cial ef­fects and nice adapt­ed script con­tribute to cre­ate this fine, de­light­ful — yet also no­tably harm­less — ad­ven­ture for the whole fam­i­ly de­spite the fact that most of the young ac­tors lack in charis­ma and the plot is longer and more pre­dictable than it seems.

The Chron­i­cles of Nar­nia: Prince Caspi­an (2008)

What rais­es this en­ter­tain­ing se­quel a tiny bit above the first movie is def­i­nite­ly its more pro­nounced ur­gency and sense of dan­ger, while the ac­tion scenes are de­cent enough and the spe­cial ef­fects still great, even though the act­ing con­tin­ues to be mediocre.

The Chron­i­cles of Nar­nia: The Voy­age of the Dawn Tread­er (2010)

This movie has such a great pro­duc­tion de­sign that it al­most makes me for­get how lame the sto­ry is. The char­ac­ters are poor­ly de­vel­oped, the plot con­fus­ing, drift­ing from one scene to the next with­out any co­he­sion, and the re­li­gious al­le­go­ry is now even more ob­vi­ous, re­sort­ing many times to an “Aslan ex machi­na” that is re­al­ly frus­trat­ing.

Chuck Nor­ris vs. Com­mu­nism (2015)

Al­though it is very in­ter­est­ing to learn about how those peo­ple liv­ing in a heav­i­ly con­trolled Com­mu­nist regime silent­ly re­belled against the sta­tus quo by watch­ing movies, the con­clu­sion it draws in the end sounds more like a sil­ly, un­found­ed jump than any­thing else.

La Cié­na­ga (2001)

There is some­thing fas­ci­nat­ing in the way this bril­liant film is con­struct­ed, di­rect­ed and edit­ed, as Mar­tel draws a drea­ry, un­com­fort­ably hu­mid (and even hi­lar­i­ous­ly ex­ag­ger­at­ed) por­trait of North­ern Ar­gen­tin­ian bour­geoisie, es­pe­cial­ly with re­gards to so­cial op­pres­sion.

Cin­derel­la (1950)

Be­sides sweet songs and adorable char­ac­ters, what is so amaz­ing about this fab­u­lous Dis­ney an­i­ma­tion — which ac­tu­al­ly saved the com­pa­ny af­ter the war and brought it back to shape af­ter those for­get­table an­tholo­gies — is how it cre­ates an­tic­i­pa­tion even when we know the fairy tale in­side out.

Cin­derel­la (2015)

In times of sub­ver­sive and re­vi­sion­ist takes on fairy tales, it is a plea­sure to see Branagh be so faith­ful to the clas­sic sto­ry with such a pas­sion­ate, mag­i­cal and daz­zling ap­proach that in­cludes a gor­geous art di­rec­tion and cos­tume de­sign, as­ton­ish­ing vi­su­al ef­fects and a beau­ti­ful score.

Cin­e­ma, As­pirins® and Vul­tures (2005)

More than just an amus­ing road movie, this won­der­ful film may seem pret­ty sim­ple (and even point­less to some) at a first look, but is in fact a del­i­cate sto­ry of friend­ship be­tween two very dif­fer­ent men with only bro­ken dreams and un­cer­tain­ty ahead of them (and João Miguel is fan­tas­tic).

Cin­e­ma Novo (2016)

Rocha seems to be try­ing to de­liv­er the kind of po­et­ic doc­u­men­tary or vi­su­al es­say that per­haps his fa­ther Glauber would have made about the move­ment he helped cre­ate, in or­der to cap­ture its artis­tic and po­lit­i­cal essence. But I only wish he had gone deep­er into it, though.

Cin­e­ma Par­adiso (1988)

The the­atri­cal ver­sion is def­i­nite­ly great, a won­der­ful homage to Cin­e­ma, but the ex­tend­ed di­rec­tor’s cut is a new and al­to­geth­er dif­fer­ent ex­pe­ri­ence that gives a lot more space to the love sto­ry, re­sult­ing then in a much rich­er and com­plete nar­ra­tive.

Cin­e­ma Verite (2011)

A de­cent film that por­trays the con­tro­ver­sial be­hind-the-scenes of the first re­al­i­ty show on Amer­i­can tele­vi­sion, a risky for­mat that would be­come what now is high­ly pop­u­lar in the whole world. The high­lights in­clude the ac­cu­rate ’70s vi­su­als and the sol­id per­for­mances.

Cir­cle (2015)

The movie has in­ter­est­ing ideas and makes nice re­marks about hu­man na­ture but is marred by a clum­sy, con­fus­ing be­gin­ning (it is ridicu­lous how the char­ac­ters un­der­stand the rules of the game so fast like that), some heavy-hand­ed di­a­logue and a fi­nal scene that leads nowhere.

The Cir­cle (2017)

Wat­son’s char­ac­ter is so un­lik­able and poor­ly con­struct­ed, chang­ing her mind so ran­dom­ly, that any dis­cus­sion about the lim­its of tech­nol­o­gy and what it could rep­re­sent to pri­va­cy gets lost in a script that does­n’t know what to do with it, es­pe­cial­ly as it reach­es an aw­ful end­ing.

The Cir­cus (1928)

A very amus­ing and de­light­ful silent film that prob­a­bly would have been bet­ter had it been made a bit short­er, since it be­gins ex­treme­ly hi­lar­i­ous but af­ter a while starts to be­come less fun­ny — even though the cli­max on the tightrope is bel­ly-aching­ly hys­ter­i­cal.

Cirkus Co­lum­bia (2010)

A re­mark­able film with three-di­men­sion­al char­ac­ters who be­come al­ways more com­plex as the sto­ry pro­gress­es, as they face the men­ace of an im­mi­nent war that would plunge their land into so much pain and suf­fer­ing in the fol­low­ing years — and to know this makes the fi­nal scene so touch­ing and bit­ter­sweet.

Cit­i­zen Boile­sen (2009)

I like how this stim­u­lat­ing, dy­nam­ic film of­fers tes­ti­mo­ni­als from both sides and lets us draw our own con­clu­sions from the facts that are pre­sent­ed, be­com­ing a fas­ci­nat­ing (and scary) ex­am­i­na­tion of a dark, sadis­tic char­ac­ter who could have been eas­i­ly an ar­dent Nazi as well.

Cit­i­zen Kane (1941)

Watch­ing Cit­i­zen Kane to­day is al­most like an ex­er­cise in de­cid­ing what is more per­fect: if Gregg Toland’s cin­e­matog­ra­phy and gor­geous deep fo­cus; Robert Wise’s ex­cep­tion­al edit­ing; Welles’ mag­nif­i­cent di­rec­tion and act­ing; or the film’s su­perla­tive script told in a non-lin­ear struc­ture.

Cit­i­zen Koch (2013)

A great doc that should be seen by every Amer­i­can (es­pe­cial­ly the av­er­age clue­less Re­pub­li­can and those who don’t vote), about how an out­ra­geous de­ci­sion of the Supreme Court set a prece­dent for cam­paign ad­ver­tise­ment that would change for­ev­er the out­come of US elec­tions.

Cit­i­zen­four (2014)

This alarm­ing and ter­ri­fy­ing ex­posé is both a tense real-life es­pi­onage thriller that came at the right mo­ment when the events were still fresh in peo­ple’s minds and a fas­ci­nat­ing char­ac­ter study about a brave man who put his life at risk to re­veal what he knew to the world.

City Lights (1931)

Chap­lin’s first sound film (but still with no voic­es, for he want­ed it to be a uni­ver­sal tale) was this won­der­ful and fun­ny movie of tran­si­tion from the silents to the talkies, struc­tured as a se­ries of fan­tas­tic sketch-like scenes and with an in­cred­i­bly mov­ing, un­for­get­table last scene.

City of God (2002)

With an elab­o­rate plot cen­tered on a dozen char­ac­ters (most of which are played by ex­cel­lent am­a­teur ac­tors from the slums), Meirelles cre­ates a styl­ized and su­perbly-edit­ed mod­ern clas­sic that puts us in the mid­dle of a war be­tween ri­val fac­tions of a dan­ger­ous Brazil­ian favela.

The City of Lost Chil­dren (1995)

This lumpy steam­punk dark fa­ble is a per­fect ex­am­ple of too much style over sub­stance, of­fer­ing us as­ton­ish­ing vi­su­als, a beau­ti­ful sound­track and spec­tac­u­lar plot de­vices (like the chain of events orig­i­nat­ed by a teardrop) but not so able to use all that in a more mean­ing­ful nar­ra­tive.

City of Men (2007)

A wor­thy fol­low-up and con­clu­sion to the TV se­ries, but un­fair­ly shad­owed by the great­ness of City of God. The two long-time friends now deal with prob­lems that are more com­pelling than be­fore, and they even get caught up in a war be­tween ri­val gangs that could cost them their friend­ship.

A City of Sad­ness (1989)

This strong and res­o­nant his­tor­i­cal dra­ma moves with a de­lib­er­ate pace and takes a good time to shape what it wants to say and find a fo­cus, but the wait­ing is more than worth it and the re­sult full of sig­nif­i­cance, even if it may be hard for the view­ers to fol­low its in­tri­cate nar­ra­tive.

The Clan (2015)

It cre­ates a strong im­pact by forc­ing us to be ac­com­plices in the fam­i­ly’s crim­i­nal ac­tiv­i­ties, with the help of a great cin­e­matog­ra­phy and cam­era movements/long takes (claro, Pablo Trap­ero), but it feels hard not to root against all char­ac­ters — in­clud­ing the young pro­tag­o­nist.

Clash of the Ti­tans (2010)

A noisy, dull and flat block­buster that plays ex­act­ly like a video game, with no char­ac­ter de­vel­op­ment or en­er­gy, and fails so mis­er­ably due to an over­ly se­ri­ous tone, a hor­ri­ble script and a hero with no charis­ma — and the tense Medusa scene is the only thing that works.

The Class (2008)

As an au­then­tic de­pic­tion of West­ern con­tem­po­rary teach­ing in a mul­ti­cul­tur­al school in Paris, this hon­est film wise­ly uses a doc­u­men­tary style and young non-ac­tors to of­fer a re­al­is­tic view into a cul­tur­al­ly di­verse city, beau­ti­ful­ly es­cap­ing the Hol­ly­wood school clichés.

Cleo from 5 to 7 (1962)

Var­da’s di­rec­tion is im­pec­ca­ble, with a won­der­ful at­ten­tion to the mise-en-scène, cam­era move­ments and use of mir­rors to show an ab­sorb­ing real-time hour-and-a-half (not two hours as the ti­tle in­di­cates) in the life of a nar­cis­sis­tic singer forced to face the empti­ness of her life.

Cleopa­tra Jones (1973)

With a lead­ing ac­tress who lacks any charis­ma and a harm­less, for­get­table plot whose too many char­ac­ters make us only con­fused about the re­la­tion­ship be­tween them or who is who, this is a pass­able blax­ploita­tion movie to be seen when you have noth­ing bet­ter to do.

Clerks (1994)

Kevin Smith de­served all the recog­ni­tion that he got af­ter pre­sent­ing us with this hi­lar­i­ous slice-of-life cult movie, which was made with a very lim­it­ed bud­get and yet is more au­then­tic, re­fresh­ing and amus­ing than many come­dies out there.

Cli­mates (2006)

Cey­lan crafts this en­thralling sto­ry of a col­laps­ing mar­riage with an en­vi­able use of vi­su­als and sound, but the film is also too the­mat­i­cal­ly am­bigu­ous, leav­ing us un­sure if it wants per­haps to ex­pose Turk­ish sex­ism or blame it on a pre­sumed fe­male weak­ness of at­ti­tude and char­ac­ter.

Cli­max (2018)

Gas­par Noé pulls us into an­oth­er one of his mad­den­ing night­mares of hell, cre­at­ing a tech­ni­cal­ly in­ge­nious and in­sane­ly un­com­fort­able ex­pe­ri­ence with in­tense col­ors and a cam­era that seems al­most like a char­ac­ter it­self in the way it moves to­wards ab­solute hys­te­ria as well.

Close En­coun­ters of the Third Kind (1977)

An en­chant­i­ng film with great spe­cial ef­fects, yet I feel re­luc­tant to re­gard the aliens as peace­ful and awe-in­spir­ing since they do abduct peo­ple, even chil­dren — and it is also hard to ac­cept the pro­tag­o­nist’s self­ish de­ci­sion at the end with­out any con­cern for his fam­i­ly.

Close En­e­mies (2018)

The di­rec­tor of the haunt­ing Far from Men brings us a film that may seem at first like the kind of crime thriller we have seen many times be­fore, yet he makes it un­be­liev­ably tense and a lot more nu­anced than you would imag­ine, with in­tense per­for­mances by Schoe­naerts and Kateb.

Close-Up (1990)

Blend­ing fic­tion and re­al­i­ty in ways that make it a unique ex­pe­ri­ence, Kiarosta­mi cre­ates a fas­ci­nat­ing piece of fic­tion-doc­u­men­tary hy­brid that re­veals al­ways more and more about its char­ac­ters and Iran­ian so­ci­ety (in­clud­ing so­cial is­sues) than we could imag­ine to be pos­si­ble.

Close­ly Watched Trains (1966)

A mas­ter class in di­rec­tion, mise-en-scène, cin­e­matog­ra­phy and edit­ing (there is not a sin­gle shot out of place), and it makes the best use of a smart sym­bol­ism and hi­lar­i­ous sar­casm to jibe the Czech peo­ple and so­ci­ety as well as the so­vi­et regime they were liv­ing un­der at the time.

Clos­er (2004)

Once in a life­time a film/play like this comes up, one that works as a true mir­ror to our own faults, flaws and vices, em­bod­ied by four fas­ci­nat­ing, mul­ti­di­men­sion­al pro­tag­o­nists who hurt and ma­nip­u­late one an­oth­er, us­ing their words as cru­el weapons and re­veal­ing their in­ner­most weak­ness­es in the process.

Cloud At­las (2012)

This is what hap­pens when you go crazy and try to make the most am­bi­tious film ever, a pre­ten­tious and mega­lo­ma­ni­ac project that at­tempts to com­prise all gen­res and be big­ger than life but is only a com­plete and ut­ter mess. It is over­long, tir­ing, cheesy, un­even and un­bear­ably con­fus­ing.

Clouds of Sils Maria (2014)

Fic­tion and re­al­i­ty (in this case, “re­al­i­ty”) merge in this fas­ci­nat­ing meta-dis­cus­sion that brings to mind In­g­mar Bergman’s Per­sona and also works as a bit­ing satire on celebri­ty cul­ture, with ex­cel­lent per­for­mances from its three ac­tress­es, es­pe­cial­ly a sur­pris­ing Kris­ten Stew­art.

The Clown (2011)

This de­light­ful and sen­si­tive road-fa­ble is both mov­ing and hi­lar­i­ous, and it takes a spe­cial time to in­tro­duce its adorable char­ac­ters and make us gen­uine­ly care about them — even though it finds a rather too easy res­o­lu­tion for the main char­ac­ter’s emo­tion­al con­flict.

Clown­house (1989)

It is much more ir­ri­tat­ing than scary with those ir­ri­tat­ing char­ac­ters, but noth­ing can be more dis­turb­ing (or dis­gust­ing) than know­ing that the char­ac­ter’s fear is ac­tu­al­ly real, since the young ac­tor play­ing it was be­ing mo­lest­ed by di­rec­tor Vic­tor Sal­va dur­ing the mak­ing of the movie.

The Club (2015)

Lar­raín tack­les a thorny sub­ject like child mo­lesta­tion and oth­er mis­de­meanors in the Catholic Church with great tact, and if at first the film’s iron­ic con­clu­sion may feel a bit con­trived, it ends up giv­ing a well-de­served punch on the re­volt­ing hypocrisy of said re­li­gious in­sti­tu­tion.

Clue (1985)

A de­li­cious­ly in­ge­nious and fun­ny adap­ta­tion that lives up to the fun of the fa­mous board game on which it is based and ex­hibits an amaz­ing at­ten­tion to de­tails, while Tim Cur­ry stands out in the great cast and com­plete­ly steals the scene in the film’s clever pos­si­ble end­ings.

Coco (2017)

With a sil­ly slap­stick hu­mor and pedes­tri­an jokes that scream Dis­ney much more than Pixar, Coco may look stun­ning but is a dis­ap­point­ment, re­sort­ing to too many clichés and pre­dictable twists that you can see from miles away while nev­er man­ag­ing to even jus­ti­fy its ti­tle.

Coco Be­fore Chanel (2009)

The plot is too con­ven­tion­al and feels some­how in­com­plete when it comes to show­ing what was ex­act­ly so spe­cial about the char­ac­ter that pro­pelled her into recog­ni­tion and fame, but this is a de­cent film with some strong per­for­mances and a gra­cious score.

Coco Chanel & Igor Stravin­sky (2009)

A soul­less ro­mance that lacks in­ten­si­ty and pas­sion, with an atyp­i­cal­ly awk­ward Mads Mikkelsen and an in­sipid Anna Mouglalis try­ing hard to ap­pear so­phis­ti­cat­ed but for­get­ting to look hu­man — her char­ac­ter even mourns the death of her lover but we can­not see or feel her pain.

Code Un­known: In­com­plete Tales of Sev­er­al Jour­neys (2000)

An in­tel­li­gent and post-struc­tural­ist nar­ra­tive ex­er­cise that, shot in a se­ries of sin­gle-take frag­ments, plays with the struc­tur­al codes that form the ba­sis of sto­ry­telling to re­flect how peo­ple can’t un­der­stand each oth­er in this so­ci­ety with their very own signs (lan­guages, ges­tures, cul­tures, moral val­ues).

Cof­fee and Cig­a­rettes (2003)

Ca­su­al as a cof­fee break and with Jar­musch’s de­li­cious off­beat hu­mor, this un­pre­ten­tious col­lec­tion of vi­gnettes in black and white is cu­ri­ous­ly en­ter­tain­ing and some­times even hi­lar­i­ous, flow­ing by from one chat to an­oth­er as its celebs sa­vor their java and smoke.

A Cof­fee in Berlin (2012)

Vis­i­bly in­flu­enced by Woody Allen, not only in its black and white but also in the down­beat mood, the jazz score and main­ly the de­li­cious­ly wry hu­mor, Ger­ster’s im­pres­sive de­but as a film­mak­er tells a very thought­ful sto­ry about a young man who feels like he does­n’t be­long any­more.

Cof­fee with Cin­na­mon (2017)

How­ev­er en­gag­ing as an ethno­graph­ic de­pic­tion of a com­mu­ni­ty in Bahia, Brazil (even re­sem­bling some­times a doc­u­men­tary), this film does­n’t work so well when try­ing to dis­cuss grief and the way peo­ple over­come it to­geth­er, re­main­ing sad­ly sim­plis­tic de­spite its good in­ten­tions.

C.O.G. (2013)

The aw­ful score is so off-putting and the film un­apolo­get­i­cal­ly am­bigu­ous about its in­ten­tions (which are nev­er made ex­act­ly clear), as though just to place Grof­f’s char­ac­ter from HBO TV se­ries Look­ing — cocky, awk­ward and eas­i­ly in­tim­i­dat­ed — in this sort of sit­u­a­tion and not go any­where from there.

Co­her­ence (2013)

An in­tel­li­gent low-bud­get sci-fi that does a first-rate job in ex­plor­ing the many pos­si­bil­i­ties of its in­trigu­ing premise, fo­cus­ing most­ly on a large­ly im­pro­vised di­a­logue and mak­ing use of an ex­pert, min­i­mal­ist ap­proach that brings to mind the bril­liant time trav­el sci-fi Primer.

Cold War (2018)

While this bit­ter­sweet ro­mance is al­ways ab­sorb­ing and gor­geous to look at (like Ida, which had sim­i­lar aes­thet­ics), I find it eas­i­er to grasp it in a more ra­tio­nal way than ac­tu­al­ly “feel” it, since its melan­choly love sto­ry comes off a bit cold and forced, es­pe­cial­ly in the end.

Co­lette (2018)

For a typ­i­cal­ly hand­some pe­ri­od dra­ma about a woman try­ing to be heard in un­grate­ful times, it is a plea­sure to see how she evolves from re­luc­tant to ac­cept a re­signed ex­is­tence in the shad­ow of a man to lat­er re­al­iz­ing that she can de­cide her own life and break free.

Col­lapse (2009)

A grim and thought-pro­vok­ing must-see doc­u­men­tary that should leave you ter­ri­fied for the doomed fu­ture that Michael Rup­pert fore­sees and sad­dened by the shat­tered life of a man who has tried his whole life to warn peo­ple of some­thing he knows he is right about.

Colo (2017)

De­spite the weak per­for­mances by the two young ac­tress­es, this is a del­i­cate and tremen­dous­ly bleak por­trait of the des­o­la­tion, de­spair and ten­der­ness of peo­ple and en­tire fam­i­lies whose lives were pro­found­ly af­fect­ed by the eco­nom­ic cri­sis that hit Por­tu­gal in re­cent years.

Colom­bian Love (2004)

An amus­ing film that is more like an Is­raeli take on typ­i­cal French ro­man­tic come­dies — yet with more about mar­riage and fam­i­ly than meets the eye -, even though the first scene is com­plete­ly dis­con­nect­ed from the nar­ra­tive con­sid­er­ing how the movie ends.

Colo­nia (2015)

Though this com­pe­tent thriller based on real events does man­age to be re­al­ly tense — al­most to the point of suf­fo­cat­ing -, the sort of ma­nip­u­la­tion to achieve that pur­pose is nev­er sub­tle, in a way that makes it work pure­ly as grip­ping en­ter­tain­ment (even if it is un­de­ni­ably un­re­al­is­tic).

The Colos­sus of Rhodes (1961)

This grandiose epic di­rect­ed by Ser­gio Leone — his first film be­fore he went on to per­fect his craft with his well-known Spaghet­ti West­erns — re­lies most­ly on its stun­ning vi­su­als, com­plete with daz­zling sets and cos­tumes, and also fea­tures some nice ac­tion scenes.

Come and See (1985)

By forc­ing us to fol­low a se­ries of un­speak­able atroc­i­ties en­tire­ly from the point of view of a naive young boy, mak­ing us see what he sees and hear what he hears, this film be­comes a hor­rif­ic night­mare of fil­tered re­al­ism that shocks us even more due to the young ac­tor’s de­ranged per­for­mance.

Come Un­done (2000)

The ac­tors seem very nat­ur­al to­geth­er, de­pict­ing well the in­ten­si­ty and won­ders of first love, but the movie has a big prob­lem in its frag­ment­ed nar­ra­tive, which jumps ran­dom­ly be­tween two mo­ments in time and so the sto­ry be­comes less flu­id and not very easy to re­late to.

The Com­e­dy (2012)

This mum­blecore piece of avant-garde comedic dra­ma is cer­tain­ly not for every­one’s taste but I found strange­ly com­pelling to ob­serve (yes, that’s the word) the life of this re­volt­ing char­ac­ter who is com­posed by Hei­deck­er (al­ways fan­tas­tic) most­ly through im­pro­vi­sa­tion.

Com­ing Home (2012)

Videau’s film wise­ly avoids be­ing shock­ing or maudlin, giv­en the dis­turb­ing sub­ject; in­stead, it ex­plores the emo­tion­al ef­fect of long en­dured iso­la­tion and the strange re­la­tion­ship be­tween the two main char­ac­ters, rais­ing in­ter­est­ing ques­tions about iden­ti­ty and free­dom.

Com­ing Home (2014)

Li Gong shines in a nu­anced per­for­mance that con­veys many emo­tions such as sad­ness, con­fu­sion and a des­per­ate long­ing for her hus­band; it is just a pity, though, that the film feels a bit repet­i­tive and there is even an un­nec­es­sary rev­e­la­tion about an in­ci­dent in the char­ac­ter’s past.

Com­ing Out (1989)

The only gay-themed film ever made in East Ger­many, first shown dur­ing the open­ing of the bor­der be­tween East and West, and a tri­umph of cast­ing and mood, even if it seems that the di­rec­tor just gets tired of telling his sto­ry af­ter a while and de­cides to end it with no con­clu­sion.

The Com­muter (2018)

Col­let-Ser­ra is back with an­oth­er run-of-the-mill Liam Nee­son ac­tion movie (the fourth), but this time there is very lit­tle to en­ter­tain here be­sides his usu­al show-off gim­micks, be­ing ba­si­cal­ly a sil­li­er and less cre­ative ver­sion of Non-Stop but on a train in­stead of an air­plane.

The Com­pa­ny Men (2010)

A de­mand­ing film that wins us over lit­tle by lit­tle, tack­ling a down­beat top­ic with a slow, care­ful ap­proach and ask­ing us to be pa­tient be­cause the re­sult will cer­tain­ly be re­ward­ing, and its main strength lies in three ex­cep­tion­al per­for­mances by Jones, Af­fleck and Coop­er.

Com­pli­ance (2012)

It is hard to be­lieve that such a re­volt­ing and ab­surd sto­ry could re­al­ly hap­pen, but be­lieve it or not, it is based on real events — and this well-di­rect­ed film grows ef­fec­tive­ly dis­turb­ing as we are forced to see how stu­pid peo­ple can be in the hands of skilled psy­chopaths.

Con­fes­sion of a Child of the Cen­tu­ry (2012)

Pete Do­her­ty may be great as a mu­si­cian and song­writer, but as an ac­tor he proves to be just as abysmal as this un­en­durable film — a ster­ile dra­ma that is not only as dull as watch­ing paint dry but also corny, ar­ti­fi­cial and painful­ly repet­i­tive.

Con­fes­sions of a Brazil­ian Call Girl (2011)

With a great per­for­mance by Deb­o­rah Sec­co, de­spite her char­ac­ter not be­ing re­al­ly well de­lin­eat­ed, this sol­id film works very well un­til halfway through, when from then on it sud­den­ly de­cides to be an over­com­ing sto­ry that sounds ar­ti­fi­cial and ter­ri­bly mor­al­iz­ing.

The Con­gress (2013)

It may feel dis­joint­ed to some view­ers as it did to me when I first saw it, but I was wrong; in fact, this is a beau­ti­ful film that has Robin Wright in a fan­tas­tic per­for­mance and of­fers a fas­ci­nat­ing dis­cus­sion about re­al­i­ty and the thin line that sep­a­rates the es­capism of Hol­ly­wood films from alien­ation.

Con­ju­gal War­fare (1974)

An ir­reg­u­lar, wit­less and point­less ex­er­cise in self-in­dul­gence that makes it clear that An­drade is try­ing to be the next Fass­binder — only what he is mak­ing is a stu­pid par­o­dy, a male fan­ta­sy in which all fe­male char­ac­ters are shown as weak, flighty or sub­mis­sive to dis­gust­ing men.

The Con­jur­ing (2013)

Since In­sid­i­ous a hor­ror film has­n’t scared the crap out of me like this, and Wan fol­lows that great movie with this gen­uine­ly ter­ri­fy­ing sto­ry that knows how to main­tain a steady lev­el of pure ter­ror by re­ly­ing on an ex­treme­ly creepy at­mos­phere and cin­e­matog­ra­phy.

The Con­jur­ing 2 (2016)

James Wan tends to ex­ag­ger­ate when show­ing off with his cam­era, but even so he con­tin­ues to prove that he knows how to find the most in­ter­est­ing ways to creep us out, avoid­ing the cheap scares and in­vest­ing in­stead in its char­ac­ters and a con­stant­ly op­pres­sive at­mos­phere.

The Con­spir­a­tors (1972)

It feels like a the­ater play filmed by some­one try­ing to be a Brazil­ian Shake­speare, and so it is­n’t aes­thet­i­cal­ly ap­peal­ing or cin­e­mat­ic (even the mise-en-scène is ar­ti­fi­cial), while the ac­tors don’t speak but de­claim their lines in an af­fect­ed man­ner; still, it would make an en­gag­ing play.

The Con­stant Gar­den­er (2005)

Meirelles di­rects this taut po­lit­i­cal thriller with a re­mark­able con­trol over the ma­te­r­i­al in his hands and fan­tas­tic per­for­mances from his cast, and the re­sult is a grip­ping, sus­pense­ful mys­tery, an en­gag­ing love sto­ry and an in­tel­li­gent state­ment on an im­por­tant sub­ject.

Con­ta­gion (2011)

A vi­ral epi­dem­ic on a world­wide scale is not an orig­i­nal con­cept but it is nice to see how the film fo­cus­es on the search for a cure and the pol­i­tics in­volved — un­til it turns into a ba­sic apoc­a­lyp­tic sce­nario full of clichés and with a con­clu­sion that is not en­tire­ly sat­is­fy­ing.

Con­tempt (1963)

A pow­er­ful and dev­as­tat­ing sto­ry that de­picts with painful hon­esty the grad­ual dis­man­tling of a mar­riage trig­gered by an am­bigu­ous lack of trust, and it is a big-bud­get Go­dard gem that blends sen­ti­ment and in­tel­lec­tu­al mus­ings in a very unique way.

Con­ter­râ­neos Vel­hos de Guer­ra (1991)

I don’t like that there is nev­er any­thing writ­ten on the screen and no names what­so­ev­er to let us know who the in­ter­vie­wees are, but I sure must praise this har­row­ing ex­posé of the ob­scure his­to­ry of Brasil­ia, de­spite how self-in­dul­gent it may feel with its un­nec­es­sar­i­ly long run­time.

The Con­ver­sa­tion (1974)

A so­phis­ti­cat­ed and taut nar­ra­tive in which Cop­po­la does with sound what An­to­nioni had done with im­age in his Blow-up, fol­low­ing a para­noid man un­able to open up to any­body and try­ing des­per­ate­ly to put the pieces to­geth­er of some­thing that he can­not un­der­stand.

Con­ver­sa­tions with a Killer: The Ted Bundy Tapes (2019)

The film does­n’t seem to care enough about how frag­ile the whole case against Bundy in Flori­da was, but it does an ex­cel­lent job bring­ing to­geth­er all pieces of the sto­ry into a well-struc­tured and well-edit­ed ex­am­i­na­tion of his twist­ed mind and crimes, ac­cord­ing also to him­self.

The Cook, the Thief, His Wife & Her Lover (1989)

A gor­geous and styl­ized gem that will prove to be of hard di­ges­tion (yes, pun in­tend­ed) for many view­ers, but those with an open mind will find a lot more to it than “just” a mag­nif­i­cent score, cin­e­matog­ra­phy, art di­rec­tion and cos­tume de­sign (the game of col­ors is fan­tas­tic).

Cool Hand Luke (1967)

What el­e­vates this en­gag­ing dra­ma to a re­mark­able ode to non­con­for­mi­ty is def­i­nite­ly Paul New­man’s in­tense per­for­mance and its taut, com­pelling script, which both com­pen­sate for the sto­ry’s ex­ceed­ing­ly slow-mov­ing pace and Rosen­berg’s in­ept di­rec­tion.

Le Cor­beau: The Raven (1943)

An ab­sorb­ing thriller that sur­pris­es us with the way its mys­tery be­comes al­ways more grip­ping and with its pes­simistic view of mankind and the rot­ten­ness hid­den in­side all of us — and it came out in a per­fect time for that sort of dis­cus­sion dur­ing the Ger­man oc­cu­pa­tion of France.

Corn Is­land (2014)

This beau­ti­ful and near­ly silent min­i­mal­ist film feels like a true de­f­i­n­i­tion of the Art of vi­su­al po­et­ry, as it tells a sim­ple yet deeply res­o­nant sto­ry that does­n’t need words to ex­press what it wants, re­ly­ing on a gor­geous cin­e­matog­ra­phy and Ilyas Salman in a fan­tas­tic per­for­mance.

Cor­pus Christi (2019)

Be­gin­ning as what ap­pears to be a ba­nal sto­ry about a tor­ment­ed young man in­tent on bring­ing some evan­gel­i­cal fer­vor to a small catholic parish, the film takes a while to show us it has some­thing to say be­fore fi­nal­ly con­clud­ing as a com­men­tary on the hypocrisy of so­ci­ety and re­li­gion.

Co­rumbiara: They Shoot In­di­ans, Don’t They? (2009)

I guess you will prob­a­bly be more fas­ci­nat­ed about this film if you are an eth­nol­o­gist or an in­di­genist, since the re­sult leans more to­wards an ethno­graph­ic record (by spend­ing too much time ob­serv­ing the na­tives) than a poignant doc­u­men­ta­tion of aw­ful plight and cru­el in­jus­tice.

Cos­mic Ray (1962)

It is so im­pres­sive to see the mean­ings one can evoke by putting to­geth­er a woman danc­ing free and naked to the sound of Ray Charles with im­ages of Mick­ey Mouse and war scenes that sym­bol­ize male pow­er, in a rhyth­mic mon­tage that can be seen as a pre­cur­sor to mu­sic videos.

Cos­mopo­lis (2012)

A provoca­tive jour­ney into the lust­ful fever of post-mod­ern cy­ber-cap­i­tal­ism, with a mag­net­ic per­for­mance by Pat­tin­son, whose char­ac­ter re­mains in­trigu­ing from one ca­su­al talk to an­oth­er while keep­ing our in­ter­est in his bizarre uni­verse — even if some­times the talk­ing is just cliché.

The Coun­selor (2013)

It is shock­ing that so much tal­ent could lead to this ter­ri­ble mess, a clum­sy and bloat­ed movie with no struc­ture and full of dread­ful di­a­logue and point­less scenes, even though af­ter eighty min­utes of te­di­um it fi­nal­ly shows that it has some­thing to say af­ter all.

The Coun­ter­feit­ers (2007)

This dark film based on a true sto­ry works as an ab­sorb­ing moral ex­er­cise about the ter­ri­ble choic­es that some were forced to make in or­der to sur­vive the hor­rors of the Holo­caust, and it de­serves even more cred­it for mak­ing us sym­pa­thize with a not-very-lik­able anti-hero.

The Count­ess (2009)

De­spite its first-rate cos­tume de­sign and Erzsé­bet Bátho­ry be­ing such a fas­ci­nat­ing sub­ject, this flawed his­tor­i­cal dra­ma seems more like a soap opera that tries too hard to soft­en her im­age as some­one bro­ken-heart­ed by love but ends too am­bigu­ous for us to care.

A Count­ess from Hong Kong (1967)

Chap­lin’s last film and the only one in col­or, a fun­ny, de­li­cious screw­ball com­e­dy with very fine per­for­mances by a great cast — ex­cept Tip­pi He­dren, who is not re­al­ly in tune with the oth­ers. And the chem­istry be­tween Bran­do and Loren is phe­nom­e­nal.

Cou­ples Re­treat (2009)

It is hard to be­lieve that any pro­duc­er would green-light a project like this, so de­void of hu­mor and at­trac­tive­ness (ex­cept for its par­adi­s­aical lo­ca­tions, of course), and it is of­ten ex­pos­i­to­ry, rep­e­ti­tious, sex­ist and racist, with­out a sin­gle sym­pa­thet­ic char­ac­ter what­so­ev­er.

The Couri­er (2012)

A dull and painful mess that seems like a clum­sy mix of The Trans­porter, An­gel Heart and Kill Bill, forc­ing us to put up with an un­be­liev­ably stu­pid pro­tag­o­nist amidst em­bar­rass­ing clichés, a lot of go­daw­ful di­a­logue, ab­surd plot holes and a ridicu­lous end­ing.

Les Cousins (1959)

Chabrol cre­ates a dark­ly iron­ic film that im­press­es with its stun­ning cin­e­matog­ra­phy and mise-en-scène, ex­cel­lent per­for­mances (es­pe­cial­ly Jean-Claude Bri­aly) and a de­press­ing sto­ry about how it does­n’t mat­ter to be a good guy in a deca­dent so­ci­ety when good guys al­ways lose.

The Cove (2009)

Both thrilling and dev­as­tat­ing, this dar­ing doc­u­men­tary ex­pos­es the re­volt­ing covert mas­sacre of dol­phins in Japan, urg­ing us to act against the hor­ri­ble things that men do to an­i­mals all over the world. Some may even feel that the film­mak­ers’ ar­gu­ments are not very con­sis­tent but no one can deny the im­por­tance of what is dis­cussed here.

Cowspira­cy: The Sus­tain­abil­i­ty Se­cret (2014)

An aw­ful doc­u­men­tary that screams of am­a­teurism and in­com­pe­tence with a lot of vague spec­u­la­tion about a sup­posed “cowspira­cy,” and it is so ir­ri­tat­ing that An­der­sen di­gress­es all the time and puts him­self (and his “quest”) at the cen­ter of it in­stead of what he wants to dis­cuss.

Craft (2010)

Karine Teles is ex­cel­lent — and the only rea­son to watch this movie, since it is aw­ful­ly di­rect­ed (switch­ing as­pect ra­tio in ways that feel com­plete­ly ar­bi­trary), the cin­e­matog­ra­phy is hideous and the plot, while well writ­ten to a cer­tain de­gree, does­n’t seem to go any­where in the end.

Crash (1996)

A per­verse­ly dis­turb­ing and high­ly un­com­fort­able film that bursts with over­whelm­ing sex­u­al in­ten­si­ty as the char­ac­ters en­gage in a com­pul­sive fetishis­tic psy­chopathol­o­gy that is strange­ly telling, even if it will prob­a­bly leave most view­ers re­pelled and make them nev­er want to see it again.

Crawl (2019)

It is fun­ny to see how the al­li­ga­tors are so huge here that they al­most look like di­nosaurs, but this is the kind of movie that can be ef­fi­cient­ly tense once you stop car­ing about plau­si­bil­i­ty, be­cause the more you think about the de­tails, the less be­liev­able the plot be­comes.

The Cra­zies (2010)

A te­dious, for­mu­la­ic movie full of clichés, deus ex machi­nas, ir­ri­tat­ing loud bumps and char­ac­ters who be­have in the most in­com­pre­hen­si­ble way — which is a pity con­sid­er­ing its good per­for­mances (es­pe­cial­ly Joe An­der­son) -, and it has a ter­ri­ble, ridicu­lous con­clu­sion.

Crazy Heart (2009)

Even though some­how sim­i­lar to it, The Wrestler came out as a hard punch while this one feels more like a soft coun­try song that ben­e­fits a lot from Jeff Bridges’ out­stand­ing per­for­mance and turns out to be a sat­is­fy­ing yet un­o­rig­i­nal dra­ma.

Crazy Rich Asians (2018)

Much like Michelle Yeo­h’s up­tight char­ac­ter, this is a too-se­ri­ous com­e­dy that re­al­ly need­ed to loosen up a bit (es­pe­cial­ly in its clichéd third act), with also a use­less, over­ly dra­mat­ic sub­plot in­volv­ing Astrid and her hus­band which could have been en­tire­ly re­moved with­out mak­ing any dif­fer­ence.

Crazy, Stu­pid, Love. (2011)

An av­er­age ro­man­tic com­e­dy that boasts a ter­rif­ic cast, es­pe­cial­ly Steve Carell and Ryan Gosling, who is clear­ly one of the most ver­sa­tile ac­tors of his gen­er­a­tion. De­spite some sil­ly mo­ments that threat­en to bog down the sto­ry, it is touch­ing enough to be worth it.

Cre­ation (2009)

A sol­id and most­ly re­strained biopic about all the sad­ness and per­son­al con­flict that Charles Dar­win went through while writ­ing a book that would for­ev­er change His­to­ry, and for­tu­nate­ly it avoids any sign of melo­dra­ma and has a strong per­for­mance by Paul Bet­tany.

Crea­ture from the Black La­goon (1954)

The crea­ture’s make­up and de­sign are stun­ning and look very re­al­is­tic for the time the movie came out, while the un­der­wa­ter scenes are re­al­ly awe­some and creepy, mak­ing for a clas­sic mon­ster movie that aged well enough and can still be fun for mod­ern au­di­ences.

Creed (2015)

Ryan Coogler does an amaz­ing job telling a sto­ry that may be too fa­mil­iar in terms of struc­ture but echoes beau­ti­ful­ly Rocky Bal­boa’s life, ben­e­fit­ing from the re­la­tion­ship that grows be­tween him and Apol­lo Creed’s son and with Stal­lone in an­oth­er won­der­ful, sen­si­tive per­for­mance.

Creed II (2018)

As un­nec­es­sary a se­quel as Rocky IV, it re­lies on point­less, avoid­able fights and Ado­nis ba­si­cal­ly need­ing to prove to the world that his dick is big­ger than Ivan Drago’s son’s; even so, de­spite how fa­mil­iar and un­der­de­vel­oped the script is, the last half hour com­pen­sates for all of that.

Creep (2004)

This movie is so inane in every way pos­si­ble that it be­comes re­al­ly hard to take it se­ri­ous­ly as some­thing that is sup­posed to be scary, as it suf­fers from a non­sen­si­cal plot, char­ac­ters who be­have like id­iots the whole time and a ridicu­lous vil­lain that has no dis­cernible mo­ti­va­tion.

Creep (2014)

I al­ways find it re­al­ly fun­ny that the main char­ac­ters of these found footage films nev­er stop film­ing even in sit­u­a­tions of great dan­ger, and this thriller is pret­ty ef­fi­cient to ex­tract ten­sion from mo­ments that can be si­mul­ta­ne­ous­ly creepy, hi­lar­i­ous and un­com­fort­able.

Creepshow 2 (1987)

De­spite the cheap pro­duc­tion val­ues and the sub­par an­i­ma­tion that serves as the comics-come-to-life wrap-around thread, this is a very amus­ing col­lec­tion of three com­pe­tent sto­ries, with the first one be­ing only av­er­age and the fol­low­ing two more in­ter­est­ing and en­ter­tain­ing.

Cria Cuer­vos (1976)

A dev­as­tat­ing dra­ma of pro­found po­lit­i­cal sym­bol­ism in which even the most de­cep­tive­ly triv­ial scenes have a mean­ing, and it is won­der­ful to see how it is shown from the point of view of Ana’s seem­ing­ly con­fused mem­o­ries as they jump be­tween dif­fer­ent mo­ments of her bleak child­hood.

The Crim­i­nal Life of Archibal­do de la Cruz (1955)

An en­joy­able — yet per­func­to­ry — dark com­e­dy that does have an in­ter­est­ing pro­tag­o­nist (with mur­der­ous de­sires that tell a lot about the na­ture of his misog­y­ny) but makes me think that Buñuel prob­a­bly only made it be­cause he did­n’t have any­thing bet­ter to do at the time.

Crim­son Peak (2015)

What is most splen­did in this Goth­ic tale is its sump­tu­ous pro­duc­tion de­sign, cos­tumes and Tech­ni­col­or-like cin­e­matog­ra­phy — all of which should be award­ed a thou­sand-fold — at the ser­vice of an at­mos­pher­ic hor­ror sto­ry com­pa­ra­ble to the finest works of Shel­ley and Poe.

Cri­sis in Six Scenes (2016)

I can’t pos­si­bly fath­om what was go­ing on in­side Woody Al­len’s head when he con­ceived this huge stu­pid­i­ty, and I mean that also lit­er­al­ly, since there is no sense of pur­pose here, every­thing is so tremen­dous­ly emp­ty, un­fun­ny and heavy on ex­po­si­tion, and Mi­ley Cyrus is just ter­ri­ble.

Cronos (1993)

Del Toro’s fea­ture de­but may not be ex­act­ly a clas­sic but is a smart hor­ror film that can be quite dis­turb­ing and un­pre­dictable in the way it uses a lot of style and gore to cre­ate a cu­ri­ous par­al­lel be­tween a man’s ob­ses­sion with be­ing young and drug ad­dic­tion.

The Croods (2013)

A vi­su­al­ly stun­ning and very en­ter­tain­ing post­mod­ern cross­ing of The Flint­stones and The Simp­sons that will prove ex­cit­ing for the whole fam­i­ly, of­fer­ing a touch­ing and quite ap­peal­ing mes­sage about dis­cov­ery and fear of change.

Cropsey (2009)

The good thing about this ur­ban-leg­end-hunters doc­u­men­tary is that it is creepy and un­set­tling as hell, and it proves to be a fas­ci­nat­ing blend of doc and hor­ror film; the bad thing, how­ev­er, is that the lack of an­swers is re­al­ly frus­trat­ing and every­thing is left too in­con­clu­sive.

Crouch­ing Tiger, Hid­den Drag­on (2000)

Words are not enough for me to ex­press how much I adore this film — a deeply po­et­ic, ro­man­tic and com­pelling ex­pe­ri­ence that has a fan­tas­tic cast, a won­der­ful di­a­logue, one hell of a great di­rec­tion and some of the most amaz­ing mar­tial arts scenes I have ever seen in a movie.

Crouch­ing Tiger, Hid­den Drag­on: Sword of Des­tiny (2016)

The sol­id script does­n’t try to be a mere copy of Ang Lee’s mas­ter­piece (de­spite a few sim­i­lar mo­ments here and there), while the vi­su­als are daz­zling and the fight­ing scenes spec­tac­u­lar, al­though the ex­cess of CGI kills some of the fun and the film ends in a lame last scene.

The Cru­cible (1996)

Be it an al­le­go­ry of the Amer­i­can anti-com­mu­nist witch hunt of the 1950s or a grip­ping sto­ry about the hor­rors of re­li­gious fa­nati­cism, col­lec­tive hys­te­ria and para­noia, this is a riv­et­ing, stom­ach-turn­ing dra­ma with in­tense per­for­mances by an ex­cel­lent en­sem­ble cast.

Cry-Baby (1990)

In John Wa­ters’ movies, every­one is a walk­ing car­i­ca­ture and every­thing looks like a wit­less self-par­o­dy, and this is an ir­ri­tat­ing mu­si­cal that sounds sil­ly and su­per­fi­cial when try­ing to be a clever com­men­tary, as well as a hor­ri­bly un­fun­ny com­e­dy filled with aw­ful di­a­logue.

A Cure for Well­ness (2016)

The vi­su­als are stun­ning, but the movie is too long and messy in terms of ideas or what­ev­er it wants to say, to the point that it does­n’t make any sense and seems more like an amal­gam of a lot of things that worked in­fi­nite­ly bet­ter in oth­er movies (like Shut­ter Is­land).

The Curse of Franken­stein (1957)

Mov­ing quite far from the orig­i­nal sto­ry in so many ways, this is a per­fect ex­am­ple of a very loose Franken­stein adap­ta­tion that man­ages to be ex­cel­lent on its own mer­its, with strong per­for­mances and an in­tel­li­gent end­ing whose moral­i­ty is sub­tly dis­turb­ing when you think about it.

The Curse of La Llorona (2019)

There is no good rea­son for this turd to be con­sid­ered part of The Con­jur­ing Uni­verse, since it only makes an in­signif­i­cant ref­er­ence that does­n’t even mat­ter. Be­sides, all you find here are cheap jump scares and a de­riv­a­tive plot that be­comes quick­ly an­noy­ing in its tire­some rep­e­ti­tion.

Cus­tody (2017)

I don’t like that the daugh­ter’s un­nec­es­sary sub­plot does­n’t go any­where, but De­nis Méno­chet is fan­tas­tic here, em­body­ing threat and de­spair in an an­guish­ing dra­ma that should re­mind every­one that there is no way to judge a sit­u­a­tion fair­ly when you know only half the sto­ry.

Cutie and the Box­er (2013)

What first seems like a sim­ple doc­u­men­tary turns out to be a com­plex and deeply sad por­trait of an old cou­ple of artists whose cre­ative force de­rives from their many dif­fer­ences and con­flicts to­geth­er, with their art re­veal­ing a lot about their re­sent­ment and un­hap­pi­ness.

The Cy­clist (1987)

It is not with­out its flaws, like a cer­tain char­ac­ter who has a mo­tor­cy­cle ac­ci­dent and is nev­er men­tioned again, but this pow­er­ful dra­ma ben­e­fits from su­perb edit­ing and an ex­cep­tion­al score to de­liv­er an hon­est so­cial mes­sage and keep us an­guished un­til the very last frame.

Cyra­no de Berg­er­ac (1990)

This ma­jor pro­duc­tion from France looks so gor­geous in every way pos­si­ble that it re­al­ly feels like we are watch­ing a baroque paint­ing from the 1640s come to life, and the ex­pe­ri­ence is made even bet­ter by the won­der­ful di­a­logue in rhymes and De­par­dieu’s su­perla­tive per­for­mance.

Daisies (1966)

It is no sur­prise that this cheeky, dar­ing and vi­su­al­ly styl­ized film (which has no de­fined plot) was banned in Czecho­slo­va­kia upon its re­lease, since it is cen­tered on two an­ar­chic, un­ruly teenage girls who do what­ev­er comes to their mind, not what any man (or so­ci­ety) wants.

Dal­i­da (2016)

The im­pec­ca­ble di­rec­tion, dy­nam­ic edit­ing and mag­net­ic per­for­mance by the stun­ning Sve­va Alvi­ti com­pen­sate for a script that de­served a bit more pol­ish­ing, even though it is ef­fi­cient in the way it uses Dal­i­da’s songs to or­gan­i­cal­ly com­ment on episodes of the char­ac­ter’s trag­ic life.

Dal­las Buy­ers Club (2013)

Mc­Conaugh­ey de­liv­ers an­oth­er fan­tas­tic per­for­mance in a ca­reer al­ready full of them, shin­ing as a de­spi­ca­ble man who slow­ly turns into a car­ing, lik­able per­son. It is just a pity that this poignant sto­ry be­comes a bit repet­i­tive in a third act that could have done with some pol­ish­ing.

A Dama do Lotação (1978)

Far from be­ing as chal­leng­ing as Belle de Jour, this film lacks con­sis­ten­cy and has no idea how to de­vel­op its pro­tag­o­nist and the mo­ti­va­tions be­hind her ac­tions, re­main­ing va­pid as a se­ries of long soft-porn scenes that want to ex­plore So­nia Bra­ga’s sex ap­peal and noth­ing else.

Damna­tion (1988)

If Tarkovsky had made Wings of De­sire, I guess it would look a lot like this, a bleak, for­mal­ly rig­or­ous film in which every sin­gle gor­geous shot is metic­u­lous­ly cal­cu­lat­ed, only it is too op­pres­sive and de­tached as it ob­serves a filthy lon­er who tests our pa­tience with end­less ex­is­ten­tial apho­risms.

The Damned (1969)

The first half is fas­ci­nat­ing, show­ing the de­prav­i­ty of the ris­ing Nazism re­flect­ed on the de­cay of the Es­sen­beck fam­i­ly. Af­ter that, how­ev­er, it feels like Vis­con­ti does­n’t want to con­clude his sto­ry, and so he goes on in­def­i­nite­ly in an end­less soap opera of back­stab­bing and mur­der plots.

Dan in Real Life (2007)

It is not only an en­durance test to stay in the com­pa­ny of such a de­testable char­ac­ter and his de­testable fam­i­ly, but the movie is also a sen­ti­men­tal pile of clichés from the first scene to the last — in­clud­ing that un­nec­es­sary, ridicu­lous­ly corny last scene dur­ing the end cred­its.

The Dance of Re­al­i­ty (2013)

Jodor­owsky re­turns af­ter a long halt of 23 years with this deeply per­son­al au­to­bi­o­graph­i­cal film, div­ing into his child­hood mem­o­ries with a sur­re­al­ist lens and bring­ing to mind the likes of Felli­ni and Freaks with the beau­ti­ful way he de­picts re­al­i­ty as fil­tered by his sub­jec­tiv­i­ty.

Dancer in the Dark (2000)

Björk is mag­nif­i­cent in a very de­mand­ing per­for­mance, act­ing and singing in this grim and dev­as­tat­ing mu­si­cal tragedy that can be re­al­ly dif­fi­cult for some peo­ple to watch, but no one can deny that it is in­cred­i­bly thought-pro­vok­ing and emo­tion­al­ly com­pelling.

A Dan­ger­ous Method (2011)

It is a pity to see this com­pelling sub­ject told in such a sim­plis­tic and bu­reau­crat­ic way, and so the three char­ac­ters and their mo­ti­va­tions are not re­al­ly well de­vel­oped, even if the ac­tors do their best. Be­sides, the con­stant skips in time con­tribute to make the sto­ry less flu­id.

Dan­ger­ous Minds (1995)

It may seem like just an­oth­er of those count­less in­spi­ra­tional movies about a teacher who “saves the lives” of a group of re­bel­lious stu­dents (and it is in­deed con­de­scend­ing some­times, es­pe­cial­ly with those can­dy bars), but it is also hon­est enough to be def­i­nite­ly worth it.

Daniel’s World (2014)

An in­for­ma­tive ac­count that probes into a del­i­cate is­sue with gen­tle­ness and sur­pris­es us with its pro­tag­o­nist’s brav­ery to come out in the open and talk about it, al­though the di­rec­tor’s ap­proach comes off as a bit pro­sa­ic and su­per­fi­cial con­sid­er­ing the nov­el­ty of the top­ic.

The Dan­ish Girl (2015)

Hoop­er is a des­per­ate award hunter who nev­er takes risks even with this kind of ma­te­r­i­al in his hands, try­ing so hard to make it all whole­some and palat­able for a main­stream au­di­ence that he even in­cludes a mar­tyr wife who stays be­side her hus­band till the end no mat­ter what.

Dans Paris (2006)

Watch­ing this is com­pa­ra­ble to hav­ing a long sharp nee­dle slow­ly go­ing through your fore­head for nine­ty min­utes, but at least Louis Gar­rel is a breath of fresh air in this pre­ten­tious shot at a French New Wave film whose main char­ac­ter is in­suf­fer­able (Hon­oré is no Go­dard).

Dan­ton (1983)

This in­ter­est­ing his­tor­i­cal dra­ma looks ab­solute­ly stun­ning (al­most like a Delacroix paint­ing) but is also over­long and feels too di­dac­tic (al­most like a filmed His­to­ry book, to be hon­est) de­spite two very in­tense per­for­mances by Gérard De­par­dieu and Wo­j­ciech Pszo­ni­ak.

The Dar­jeel­ing Lim­it­ed (2007)

It is painful to see the self-in­dul­gent work that Wes An­der­son made here, so pre­ten­tious and con­cerned about style over sub­stance. The vi­su­als are out­stand­ing but the emp­ty sto­ry is point­less and te­dious, drift­ing nowhere with un­fun­ny hu­mor and weird se­ri­ous­ness.

Dark Blood (1993/2012)

Ap­par­ent­ly the only rea­son any­one can find for watch­ing this is the fact that it is Riv­er Phoenix’ fi­nal film, since it’s not only in­com­plete but main­ly ster­ile and for­get­table, un­able to be tense or sexy as a provoca­tive thriller and with some se­ri­ous racist and sex­ist un­der­tones.

Dark Blue Girl (2017)

A del­i­cate dra­ma that finds a nice bal­ance be­tween hu­mor­ous and se­ri­ous, re­ly­ing on two great per­for­mances by Zen­gel and Mielke even though the many plot el­e­ments we see here don’t re­al­ly come to­geth­er as they should and the con­clu­sion is not that sat­is­fy­ing.

The Dark Crys­tal (1982)

There is noth­ing that can jus­ti­fy the amount of ef­fort put into cre­at­ing some­thing so vi­su­al­ly stun­ning (the pro­duc­tion de­sign is spec­tac­u­lar) but none into such a te­dious nar­ra­tive that has no imag­i­na­tion, no en­er­gy, no sense of pac­ing and is full of an­noy­ing char­ac­ters.

The Dark Knight Ris­es (2012)

Al­though not achiev­ing the same lev­el of qual­i­ty of the ex­cep­tion­al pre­vi­ous movie, this ex­plo­sive, ur­gent and dark chap­ter is still an ex­treme­ly sat­is­fy­ing con­clu­sion to the fran­chise — even if in­vest­ing too much in the ac­tion and with some bla­tant nar­ra­tive flaws (not to men­tion Bane’s ridicu­lous voice).

Dark Shad­ows (2012)

Even with spec­tac­u­lar vi­su­als and an en­joy­able per­for­mance by Depp, it is frus­trat­ing to see a promis­ing first half give place to a me­an­der­ing sec­ond half that is so un­fun­ny and dis­joint­ed, with many un­nec­es­sary el­e­ments thrown in for no rea­son and a hor­ri­ble end­ing.

Dark Skies (2013)

An av­er­age hor­ror movie that man­ages to build an ef­fec­tive mys­tery and ten­sion bet­ter than any­one would ex­pect, even if it does­n’t of­fer any­thing orig­i­nal about ab­duc­tion phe­nom­e­non that we haven’t seen be­fore in bet­ter works — say, The X‑Files. Still, I find the end­ing sat­is­fy­ing.

The Dark Val­ley (2014)

A well-writ­ten and in­cred­i­bly tense Aus­tri­an West­ern that takes its time to build an en­gross­ing at­mos­phere and ben­e­fits all the more from a strong cast, a grip­ping re­venge sto­ry and a spec­tac­u­lar cin­e­matog­ra­phy that ex­plores the lo­ca­tions to their great­est ex­tent.

Dark Wa­ters (2019)

I would have def­i­nite­ly pre­ferred to see a doc­u­men­tary about this shock­ing, stom­ach-turn­ing sub­ject in­stead of a con­ven­tion­al fic­tion­al­iza­tion so full of clichés (clichés that in­clude, of course, the ob­sessed hero who de­votes his life to a cause and com­plete­ly ne­glects his fam­i­ly, et cetera).

Date and Switch (2014)

A sil­ly and com­plete­ly for­get­table teen com­e­dy that is rarely fun­ny and only of­fers us cliché af­ter cliché af­ter cliché, with a lot of ar­ti­fi­cial con­flicts and unin­spired di­a­logue (de­spite a few good mo­ments here and there); but at least it is a good thing that it has a heart.

David Lynch: The Art Life (2016)

Lis­ten­ing to those life anec­dotes is not re­al­ly in­ter­est­ing or re­veal­ing, to be hon­est, even though some of what Lynch says can be pret­ty fun­ny and amus­ing, and it is hard to over­look the fact that the film ends right when it is start­ing to be­come more in­ter­est­ing.

Dawn of the Dead (1978)

In this ex­cel­lent se­quel, Romero re­places the ghast­ly, op­pres­sive black and white of the orig­i­nal film with some very en­ter­tain­ing and grue­some gore in col­or full of hu­mor and clever so­cial satire. A clas­sic zom­bie hor­ror film that stands out as an in­tel­li­gent al­le­go­ry.

Dawn of the Plan­et of the Apes (2014)

In times of in­tense blood bath in the Mid­dle East, this ex­cel­lent se­quel seems like tai­lor-made to re­flect the present con­flict be­tween Is­raelis and Pales­tini­ans, with a won­der­ful CGI that makes the apes look so hu­man and turn­ing out to be one of the most po­lit­i­cal­ly rel­e­vant movies of the year.

The Day Af­ter (2017)

Even though there is not that much else to it, this is a sim­ple yet el­e­gant­ly di­rect­ed film that can be en­joy­able enough, es­pe­cial­ly as we ob­serve its char­ac­ters drink­ing a lot of soju while hav­ing ca­su­al philo­soph­i­cal dis­cus­sions about love or what­ev­er it is they yearn in life.

Day of the Dead (1985)

Leav­ing aside the bril­liant satir­i­cal hu­mor of Dawn of the Dead, Romero makes an at­tempt at a zom­bie dra­ma but fails with a poor­ly ex­e­cut­ed plot, while the one-di­men­sion­al char­ac­ters are so aw­ful­ly de­vel­oped and un­lik­able that we nev­er care about them, and so every­thing falls flat.

Day of the Dead (2008)

Here is what hap­pens when a third-rate di­rec­tor re­makes a George Romero zom­bie film: he sub­tracts any so­cial-po­lit­i­cal sub­text and throws in cheap scares, stu­pid di­a­logue, cute but lame ac­tors and, worse, a veg­e­tar­i­an zom­bie in love.

The Day That Last­ed 21 Years (2012)

De­spite be­ing rep­e­ti­tious, poor­ly edit­ed and too brief for the com­plex­i­ty of the sub­ject it wants to tack­le (al­though I can see the fo­cus is sup­posed to be on the day men­tioned in the ti­tle), this is a de­cent doc­u­men­tary that ben­e­fits from a nice amount of re­search ma­te­r­i­al.

The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951)

An in­tel­li­gent and chal­leng­ing sci­ence-fic­tion clas­sic that makes el­e­gant al­lu­sions to Je­sus Christ’s life (even in the char­ac­ter’s alias, Car­pen­ter) and speaks di­rect­ly to the au­di­ence in the end de­fend­ing the im­por­tance of non-ag­gres­sion in a time dom­i­nat­ed by fear.

Day­break­ers (2009)

In spite of its in­trigu­ing idea and a good cin­e­matog­ra­phy, this is a safe movie that nev­er goes deep enough into the pos­si­bil­i­ties of its premise, re­ly­ing on many co­in­ci­dences and con­trivances, and with an at­tempt at a “mes­sage” in the end that dis­ap­points.

Days of Grace (2011)

There are some amaz­ing long takes here, yes, and the bru­tal­i­ty de­pict­ed is re­al­ly ap­pro­pri­ate; how­ev­er, it seems more than ev­i­dent that Gout is only aim­ing for style, putting to­geth­er three sto­ries us­ing ab­surd twists that ren­der the whole mean­ing­less.

Days of Thun­der (1990)

Like Top Gun with rac­ing stock cars, it may not be re­al­ly orig­i­nal and is quite pre­dictable ac­tu­al­ly, but it has a very good sound­track and Tom Cruise in­ject­ing a lot of en­er­gy into a two-di­men­sion­al char­ac­ter who lacks suf­fi­cient depth and mo­ti­va­tion for us to care.

The Days with Him (2012)

More re­veal­ing than what the film’s un­sym­pa­thet­ic sub­ject can tell us about his life is wit­ness­ing the awk­ward re­la­tion­ship be­tween an ap­par­ent­ly in­com­pe­tent di­rec­tor and her pa­tron­iz­ing fa­ther, and that can al­most be tak­en as a for­tu­nate out­come of a be­fud­dled at­tempt. Just al­most.

Dazed and Con­fused (1993)

With a lack of a well-de­fined struc­ture that works per­fect­ly, it is fun­ny and has a de­li­cious­ly nos­tal­gic feel that cap­tures the spir­it of those high school times in the ’70s, and it does so with an ex­cel­lent en­sem­ble cast and a flaw­less sound­track that makes it ab­solute­ly ir­re­sistible.

The Dead Don’t Die (2019)

I can imag­ine that Jar­musch must have thought that Twin Peaks need­ed zom­bies to be cool­er, but this ir­ri­tat­ing movie is ridicu­lous­ly un­fun­ny, child­ish as a com­men­tary and filled with more painful­ly rep­e­ti­tious and ex­pos­i­to­ry di­a­logue than I could pos­si­bly be­lieve I would see this year.

Dead End (2003)

The char­ac­ters can be quite un­pleas­ant but the ac­tors make every­thing re­al­ly fun to watch, as the movie flirts with ab­sur­di­ty to the point of hi­lar­i­ous (es­pe­cial­ly when fam­i­ly se­crets come up in the most bizarre sit­u­a­tions) and of­fers us enough ten­sion to com­pen­sate for its silli­ness.

The Dead Girl’s Feast (2008)

This un­hur­ried dra­ma about mys­ti­cism and the na­ture of faith of­fers a re­mark­able per­for­mance by Daniel de Oliveira and shapes its in­trigu­ing nar­ra­tive lit­tle by lit­tle, let­ting us put to­geth­er the pieces of that strange re­al­i­ty in our heads as it grad­u­al­ly un­veils what it is about.

Dead Leaves (2004)

With very lit­tle of an ac­tu­al plot and yet a se­ries of count­less things and events that seem to hap­pen so quick­ly one af­ter an­oth­er in such a short run­ning time, this in­sane­ly fre­net­ic ani­me full of shapes and col­ors proves to be a lot of fun to be at least worth the cu­rios­i­ty.

Dead Man Walk­ing (1995)

A dar­ing, ob­jec­tive and thought-pro­vok­ing dra­ma that in­spires us to re­flect on such me­dieval prac­tice and dis­cuss it for hours straight, even if it also re­spects those who are in fa­vor, and it has two mag­nif­i­cent and great­ly nu­anced per­for­mances by Sean Penn and Su­san Saran­don.

Dead of Night (1945)

It is a beau­ti­ful thing to see how this British an­thol­o­gy of hor­ror sto­ries is so eclec­tic and re­lies most­ly on an in­tel­li­gent di­a­logue, hav­ing com­plete­ly in­flu­enced the genre ever since and of­fer­ing us five tales rang­ing from spooky to fun­ny to chill­ing to creepy as hell.

Dead Ringers (1988)

The film is al­ways com­pelling and Je­re­my Irons does a great job play­ing two iden­ti­cal char­ac­ters who are just a tiny bit slight­ly dif­fer­ent, but it be­comes hard to care when we see how con­trived every­thing is in a script that wants them to go nuts for some ar­ti­fi­cial, lame rea­son.

Dead Si­lence (2007)

A creepy hor­ror movie that builds an omi­nous at­mos­phere with an am­bi­tious pro­duc­tion de­sign and great eerie cin­e­matog­ra­phy (of course, James Wan), and even if the ef­fi­cient sto­ry is noth­ing re­al­ly spe­cial or orig­i­nal, it of­fers a nice twist in the end.

Dead Snow (2009)

A Nor­we­gian blood-drenched hor­ror movie that re­al­ly wants to be gross, and gross it is. Nazi zom­bies, prob­a­bly the only orig­i­nal thing in a film so full of clichés and de­void of ten­sion, which would­n’t be that bad if the com­e­dy weren’t tak­en so ab­solute­ly se­ri­ous­ly by the char­ac­ters.

The Dead Zone (1983)

With a strong per­for­mance by Christo­pher Walken and an in­trigu­ing sto­ry that un­folds with­out hur­ry, Cro­nen­berg’s film is an en­ter­tain­ing Stephen King adap­ta­tion that knows how to hold our at­ten­tion by of­fer­ing us al­ways more and more sur­pris­es and new twists at the right mo­ments.

Dead­pool (2016)

An icon­o­clas­tic, pro­fane and hi­lar­i­ous su­per­hero movie filled with pop-cul­ture ref­er­ences and cen­tered on a sassy, foul-mouthed anti-hero who makes fun of every­thing — even the fact that he is in a movie that plays with the clichés of the genre and does­n’t take it­self at all se­ri­ous­ly.

Dead­pool 2 (2018)

Lamp­shad­ing your in­so­lent, vul­gar and filthy ass out and go­ing full I‑­know-this-is-a-fuck­ing-movie meta can be Dead­pool fun­ny, even when you reuse clichés that were al­ready old back in the Bourne tril­o­gy — and as an im­pu­dent sal­ad of pop-ref­er­ences it only gets bet­ter and bet­ter.

Dear Mr. Wat­ter­son (2013)

The dis­cus­sion about artis­tic pu­ri­ty ver­sus con­trol is pret­ty in­ter­est­ing, but the rest of what we see here is just a lot of rep­e­ti­tion that would hard­ly turn some­one who is not a com­ic strip fan (or a Calvin and Hobbes fan, for that mat­ter) like me into an en­thu­si­as­tic read­er.

Dear White Peo­ple (2014)

There will be haters, for sure, and the haters will be out­raged whites com­plain­ing about “re­verse racism” and oth­er imag­i­nary things like how “there is no racism in Amer­i­ca any­more” — which is a pity, re­al­ly, since this ex­cel­lent satire should be ded­i­cat­ed to you, dear white racist.

Dear Zachary: A Let­ter to a Son About His Fa­ther (2008)

As a love let­ter to a friend, fa­ther, son and vic­tim of someone‘s psy­chopa­thy and lu­na­cy (as well as a tes­ti­mo­ny to the re­silience of two in­cred­i­bly sto­ic grand­par­ents amid a hor­ri­ble tragedy), this is a beau­ti­ful, touch­ing and ab­solute­ly dev­as­tat­ing doc­u­men­tary like few oth­ers.

The Death and Life of John F. Dono­van (2018)

It is sad to see Dolan build a nar­ra­tive in such a care­ful and strong man­ner for about 90 min­utes and then lose con­trol of it in the last half hour, right when he should show a bet­ter grasp of his ideas and in­ten­tions with­out re­sort­ing to sim­plis­tic “peo­ple com­pli­cate life” res­o­lu­tions.

The Death and Life of Mar­sha P. John­son (2017)

In­ter­weav­ing a few dif­fer­ent (but re­lat­ed) threads in a very co­he­sive and well-edit­ed way, David France ex­pos­es the im­por­tant lega­cy of the true front­lin­ers of the LGBT move­ment, who were pushed aside but with­out whom there would have been no gay lib­er­a­tion move­ment.

The Death of Mr. Lazares­cu (2005)

A suf­fo­cat­ing and emo­tion­al­ly stress­ful drama/social com­men­tary that, made with a grip­ping nat­u­ral­is­tic ap­proach, im­pressed me most with the way it shows how peo­ple can be cru­el and in­dif­fer­ent to hu­man suf­fer­ing only to dis­play in the next mo­ment a sur­pris­ing amount of com­pas­sion.

The Death of Stal­in (2017)

It is hard to make im­pro­vi­sa­tion work in com­e­dy, and while In the Loop was quite hi­lar­i­ous, this film be­gins fun­ny but slow­ly be­comes aw­ful­ly grim, adopt­ing a strange, solemn tone (even in the mu­sic) that feels com­plete­ly in­com­pat­i­ble with the goofy hu­mor that it is aim­ing at.

Death Proof (2007)

A de­light­ful homage to ex­ploita­tion films of the ’70s, and it is es­pe­cial­ly amus­ing thanks to the way it mix­es the vi­su­al el­e­ments of those movies with mod­ern ones, but Taran­ti­no gives in once again to his nar­cis­sis­tic self-in­dul­gences in end­less, tire­some ex­changes of di­a­logue.

The Debt (2010)

What to think of a film whose char­ac­ters are so in­ept to car­ry out an im­por­tant mis­sion that you end up cheer­ing against them? — a prob­lem that un­der­mines an en­gag­ing sto­ry full of dra­mat­ic po­ten­tial, be­fore it goes out of con­trol in a frus­trat­ing last act.

The De­ceased (1965)

A typ­i­cal melo­dra­mat­ic tragedy full of irony that one would ex­pect to see in a movie based on Nel­son Ro­drigues, and even if the di­rec­tor usu­al­ly makes the right choic­es to tell this sto­ry, the prob­lem is that the plot is too un­re­al­is­tic and does­n’t re­al­ly know how to end.

A De­cent Man (2015)

A sol­id char­ac­ter study that ben­e­fits from Finkiel’s strong di­rec­tion (es­pe­cial­ly the el­e­gant way he uses shal­low fo­cus and the col­or blue) and a fan­tas­tic per­for­mance by Du­vauchelle, even if it makes it al­most too hard for us to sym­pa­thize with such an ag­gres­sive char­ac­ter.

De­c­la­ra­tion of War (2011)

A ridicu­lous and ir­ri­tat­ing film full of clichés about an an­noy­ing­ly op­ti­mistic cou­ple out of a fairy tale fac­ing a hard sit­u­a­tion. Not only the nar­ra­tion is ex­pos­i­to­ry and un­nec­es­sary but every­thing else is also triv­ial and un­sub­tle, made by an in­ex­pert di­rec­tor who nev­er seems sure of what she wants to say.

Deep Im­pact (1998)

When a movie like this wants to be a dra­ma about char­ac­ters in­stead of “just” brain­less cat­a­stro­phe (cat­a­stro­phe that takes place only in the end any­way), the least they could do is to come up with char­ac­ters that mat­ter and a plot that is­n’t so of­fen­sive­ly stu­pid and in­co­her­ent.

Deep­wa­ter Hori­zon (2016)

With a great di­rec­tion by Pe­ter Berg and a large as­pect ra­tio that ex­plores quite well the set­ting and full ex­ten­sion of the rig, this is an an­guish­ing and grip­ping movie that stays true to the mem­o­ry of those who died in a shock­ing dis­as­ter that could have been pre­vent­ed.

The Deer Hunter (1978)

Cimi­no is a great di­rec­tor who takes his time in a long, care­ful first act be­fore throw­ing his char­ac­ters in­side a ter­rif­i­cal­ly tense, gut-wrench­ing sec­ond act that makes us deeply con­sid­er the trag­ic ef­fects of war on vet­er­ans, with Walken and De Niro in spec­tac­u­lar per­for­mances.

Deer­skin (2019)

I can’t think of any­one else but Dupieux who could think of com­bin­ing dis­so­cia­tive dis­or­der, tox­ic mas­culin­i­ty, bizarre ob­ses­sion and even snuff film in the same project (a dark com­e­dy, no less) and make it strange­ly in­trigu­ing to watch, even when push­ing the lim­its of plau­si­bil­i­ty.

Del­i­ca­cy (2011)

Tautou is ob­vi­ous­ly not as gor­geous as the movie painful­ly in­sists and her char­ac­ter’s mo­ti­va­tions are al­ways un­clear, while Damiens plays an id­iot that any­one would hard­ly fall for, in a ter­ri­bly writ­ten and poor­ly di­rect­ed lit­tle ro­mance that is con­fus­ing and goes nowhere.

Del­i­cate Crime (2005)

Us­ing many sta­t­ic long takes and keep­ing us at a cer­tain dis­tance from its char­ac­ters, Brant cre­ates a dif­fi­cult but im­mense­ly fas­ci­nat­ing at­tack on the very na­ture of crit­i­cism, dis­cussing am­bi­gu­i­ty, de­sire and how the way we read and per­ceive Art is lim­it­ed by our own per­spec­tive.

De­liv­er Us from Evil (2014)

Al­though re­sort­ing a bit too much to cheap scares cre­at­ed by thun­der­ous chords, this is a very ef­fi­cient and creepy-as-hell hor­ror movie (in­spired by al­leged­ly real events) that uses a great sound de­sign and an ex­em­plary, nasty pro­duc­tion de­sign to take us in­side an ex­treme­ly eerie at­mos­phere.

De­men­tia 13 (1963)

This low-bud­get hor­ror film pro­duced by Roger Cor­man and di­rect­ed by Cop­po­la be­fore he went on the be­come a fa­mous film­mak­er has ev­i­dent shades of Psy­cho but is not even fright­en­ing, with a lame, un­even plot in which noth­ing much re­al­ly hap­pens.

Demons (1985)

No­body can say that Bava does­n’t have com­plete con­trol of his cam­era, but when it comes to every­thing else — per­for­mances, di­a­logue, mise-en-scène and even his sense of ge­og­ra­phy in the scenes -, it’s all ridicu­lous and hi­lar­i­ous in the same mea­sure, es­pe­cial­ly those amaz­ing gory mo­ments.

The Demons (2015)

With im­pres­sive long takes, a re­fined mise-en-scène and an in­ter­est­ing, al­most fly-on-the-wall ap­proach, this is a del­i­cate look at a boy’s life and fears as he learns about the world, but sad­ly the film gets lost with a tan­gen­tial sub­plot that fo­cus­es on an­oth­er char­ac­ter.

The Den (2013)

The we­b­cam found-footage is well done and the con­cept is quite dis­turb­ing con­sid­er­ing the hor­rors that must be re­al­ly found in­side the deep web; the only prob­lem is that the clichés are some­times in­fu­ri­at­ing, like no one be­liev­ing the main char­ac­ter and think­ing she is crazy.

Deny­ing Brazil (2000)

The prob­lem is that this doc­u­men­tary is sad­ly su­per­fi­cial, bu­reau­crat­ic and un­en­gag­ing, with the di­rec­tor nev­er go­ing deep enough into what he is stat­ing and mak­ing claims that he does­n’t care to sub­stan­ti­ate or bet­ter elab­o­rate on (like the ex­is­tence of cer­tain racial stereo­types).

De­par­tures (2008)

A beau­ti­ful, sen­si­tive and pro­found­ly mov­ing ode to the beau­ty of life and death, with a sur­pris­ing sense of hu­mor and a gor­geous score — the kind of film that touch­es deep in­side our feel­ings like few oth­ers, mak­ing us ap­pre­ci­ate and cel­e­brate the won­der of be­ing alive.

The De­scen­dants (2011)

A pre­dictable pseu­do-in­die dra­ma lazi­ly writ­ten by some­one who seems to have no clue about real peo­ple’s lives, built around ar­ti­fi­cial con­flicts and em­bar­rass­ing mo­ments of hu­mor, and cen­tered on a group of pa­thet­ic char­ac­ters who are re­al­ly hard for us to care about.

The De­scent: Part 2 (2009)

I was ready to ac­cept the fact that this se­quel picks up where the US edit­ed ver­sion of the first film left off, in­stead of the amaz­ing un­cut one. But noth­ing can make me for­give the heavy-hand­ed di­rec­tion or the lack of in­spi­ra­tion in this sil­ly hor­ror movie.

De­sign for Liv­ing (1933)

The three main ac­tors have a great chem­istry to­geth­er, which helps hold our at­ten­tion for some nice time, but truth is, the script is pret­ty un­fun­ny for a com­e­dy and there is not enough here to en­gage us or make us care about any­thing that hap­pens to the char­ac­ters.

De­spair (1978)

As Fass­binder’s first film in Eng­lish, this psy­che­del­ic dra­ma may have an in­trigu­ing sto­ry but the di­rec­tion is heavy-hand­ed and lacks that con­vic­tion found in his ear­li­er works. Es­pe­cial­ly the tone he adopts seems in­com­pat­i­ble with the kind of sto­ry he wants to tell.

Des­per­ate­ly Seek­ing Su­san (1985)

It is only strange that any­one is sup­posed to give a hoot about a wit­less movie that feels like made by peo­ple who could­n’t care less about it, as it moves with­out any sense of di­rec­tion, hu­mor or any­thing be­sides lame clichés that make it look like an ap­a­thet­ic dead body.

De­spi­ca­ble Me (2010)

Am I the only one or is there any­one else who did­n’t laugh at all watch­ing this? I felt like slit­ting my wrists with so many aw­ful phys­i­cal gags and ridicu­lous jokes, and it is un­bear­able to see all that ex­ces­sive fluffi­ness and sen­ti­men­tal­i­ty. Please, Uni­ver­sal, don’t try to be Pixar.

De­spi­ca­ble Me 2 (2013)

No sur­prise to see that this se­quel is just as de­testable as the crap­py first movie, ob­vi­ous­ly made by re­tards for re­tards who can find any of those ridicu­lous gags fun­ny (fart jokes, re­al­ly?), so watch­ing an­oth­er se­quel or any Min­ions movie is ab­solute­ly out of ques­tion.

De­troit (2017)

Us­ing a ner­vous hand­held cam­era and in­ter­cut­ting what we see with real archive footage to cre­ate the same doc­u­men­tary-like feel of her pre­vi­ous films The Hurt Lock­er and Zero Dark Thir­ty, Bigelow ex­pos­es with grip­ping re­al­ism a re­volt­ing chap­ter in Amer­i­can His­to­ry.

Dev­il (2010)

With such an in­trigu­ing premise, this Twi­light Zone-es­que movie could have been scari­er and much more claus­tro­pho­bic, but it only man­ages to be a sat­is­fy­ing su­per­nat­ur­al Agatha Christie-like sto­ry whose mer­its are due more to its sol­id di­rec­tion than to its weak script.

The Dev­il Prob­a­bly (1977)

Bres­son’s style is all there and it is clear that he wants to make a di­rect state­ment in what turns out to be a very po­lit­i­cal film, but sad­ly his usu­al aus­ter­i­ty feels a bit off with the kind of sto­ry he wants to tell, and so the re­sult seems more pre­ten­tious than it is com­pelling.

The Dev­il Queen (1974)

Al­most like an an­swer to the blax­ploita­tion movies that came up in the US dur­ing the ear­ly 1970s, this is a fun piece of Brazil­ian ex­ploita­tion cen­tered on queers, pros­ti­tutes, pimps and crim­i­nals in Rio, with ex­cel­lent per­for­mances and an over-the-top end­ing that makes it all even bet­ter.

The Dev­il Wears Pra­da (2006)

De­spite its clichéd and mor­al­iz­ing mes­sage about “the price you pay when you choose pro­fes­sion over per­son­al life,” this is an en­ter­tain­ing com­e­dy that takes a caus­tic look at New York’s fash­ion scene and has an un­for­get­table per­for­mance by Meryl Streep.

The Dev­il’s Dou­ble (2011)

A lazy and ter­ri­bly-di­rect­ed movie that de­picts Uday Hus­sein as a ridicu­lous car­i­ca­ture in what is a re­dun­dant sto­ry de­void of any sub­tle­ty. Be­sides, Do­minic Coop­er is such a mediocre ac­tor, un­able to lend any sort of com­plex­i­ty to the two iden­ti­cal main char­ac­ters.

The Dev­ils (1971)

For a while, the im­pres­sion one gets is that Rus­sell is not in­ter­est­ed in dis­cussing in­san­i­ty (or its na­ture) but just to show it — bare naked — in a pure­ly ex­ploita­tive, sur­re­al­is­tic way; which is true, un­til every­thing moves so con­fi­dent­ly to­wards an apotheot­ic dis­play of mad de­prav­i­ty.

Dheep­an (2015)

The three main ac­tors are fan­tas­tic (in their first roles), con­vey­ing with great nat­u­ral­ness the hard­ships faced by refugees who flee from their coun­tries to Eu­rope, but the film sad­ly starts to grad­u­al­ly lose its pow­er as it be­comes more and more ar­ti­fi­cial to­wards an aw­ful last scene.

Di Cav­al­can­ti (1977)

Fre­net­ic, poor­ly made and an ugly con­fu­sion of im­ages, nar­ra­tion and mu­sic, this short is less an homage than an ex­cuse for Glauber Rocha to show that there is a di­rec­tor be­hind it.

O Dia em Que Dori­val En­car­ou a Guar­da (1986)

Even if not very well made from a tech­ni­cal point of view, this is a wit­ty crit­i­cism of “or­ders be­ing or­ders” with a bit­ter­ly iron­ic con­clu­sion.

Di­a­bolique (1955)

A great thriller built on an in­trigu­ing mys­tery and with a very un­ex­pect­ed end­ing, but I imag­ine how much more tense and en­gag­ing it would have been in Hitch­cock­’s hands, as it feels a tad dry with its lack of score and does­n’t cre­ate the sort of im­pact that it nat­u­ral­ly should.

Dial M for Mur­der (1954)

John Williams and Grace Kel­ly are sure­ly great, but Ray Mil­land is fan­tas­tic in this so­phis­ti­cat­ed and in­tel­lec­tu­al­ly stim­u­lat­ing thriller that fas­ci­nates with its wit­ty, im­pec­ca­bly-writ­ten di­a­logue and the in­tel­li­gent minu­ti­ae of every­thing that can go wrong in a per­fect mur­der.

Di­ana (2013)

Nao­mi Watts does a good job as Di­ana, even in the way she walks and looks, but there is not much that she can do to save a soapy script (full of hor­ri­bly corny lines) that has no real in­sight into her char­ac­ter and only shows her as im­ma­ture, car­i­cat­ur­al and not very bright.

Di­ario de uma Bus­ca (2010)

Find­ing a won­der­ful bal­ance be­tween per­son­al and po­lit­i­cal, Flávia Cas­tro gives us the kind of sel­dom seen doc­u­men­tary about ex­ile as told from the per­spec­tive of the ex­iled ones — in this case, those who were al­lowed to re­turn to Brazil only to re­al­ize they had long lost the fight.

Di­ary of a Wimpy Kid (2010)

This movie is so bright, amus­ing and sweet that it feels like only half an hour. It made me laugh real hard and I was sur­prised to see that it does­n’t give in to easy stereo­types nor to cheap moral lessons, re­main­ing most­ly hu­man, hon­est and pret­ty fun­ny.

Di­ary of a Wimpy Kid: Ro­drick Rules (2011)

A nice se­quel that is quite fun­ny and amus­ing al­most in the same lev­el of the adorable first movie, with its own share of good mo­ments even though it did not make me laugh as hard as that one.

Di­ary of the Dead (2007)

Romero seems vir­tu­al­ly in­ca­pable of fol­low­ing the lan­guage of mod­ern hor­ror films us­ing the fake doc­u­men­tary style. The sub­jec­tive cam­era is too steady and asep­tic for an am­a­teur­ish record­ing, the di­a­logue is un­be­liev­able and every­thing else is just a pa­thet­ic em­bar­rass­ment.

The Dic­ta­tor (2012)

In­stead of stick­ing to the clever mock­u­men­tary for­mat of Bo­rat and Brüno, Lar­ry Charles and Co­hen have sad­ly de­cid­ed to go for a typ­i­cal com­e­dy, cre­at­ing this un­even movie that has many hi­lar­i­ous mo­ments but also too much un­fun­ny toi­let hu­mor.

Die Hard (1988)

An ex­hil­a­rat­ing all-time clas­sic ac­tion movie that is not only im­pres­sive­ly well di­rect­ed and tense when it needs to be but also al­ways sur­pris­es us with its well-writ­ten script and re­al­is­tic char­ac­ter­i­za­tion of its wit­ty, flesh-and-bone hero, John Mc­Clane.

Die Hard 2 (1990)

An in­fu­ri­at­ing and brain­less se­quel that takes an end­less long time for some­thing to fi­nal­ly hap­pen and needs every sin­gle char­ac­ter to act as a com­plete id­iot so that the stu­pid plot can move on — like Den­nis Franz as an un­bear­able mo­ron who is al­ways in the way.

Die Hard: With a Vengeance (1995)

An en­ter­tain­ing movie full of ac­tion and hu­mor, no doubt bet­ter than the atro­cious sec­ond in­stall­ment even if not in the same lev­el of the orig­i­nal film. And de­spite a flawed last half, it has Samuel L. Jack­son steal­ing the scene and Je­re­my Irons as a great vil­lain.

Difret (2014)

It is a bit dis­ap­point­ing to see an im­por­tant sub­ject mat­ter like this be­come a rather heavy-hand­ed dra­ma in the hands of a not very tal­ent­ed di­rec­tor, with prob­lems of edit­ing, many un­nec­es­sary scenes and lack of emo­tion­al weight (un­able even to cre­ate sus­pense).

Dilili in Paris (2018)

Ocelot wants to tack­le themes that are a lot more am­bi­tious than what he is used to, like racism, misog­y­ny and fem­i­nism, but the re­sult feels most­ly harm­less and di­dac­tic, es­pe­cial­ly as he de­lights in show­ing dozens of an­i­mat­ed ver­sions of fa­mous names from the Belle Époque.

The Din­ner (2017)

The per­for­mances are very good, even though Steve Coogan plays one of the most in­suf­fer­able pro­tag­o­nists I have ever seen, but the film it­self is ac­tu­al­ly full of in­suf­fer­able char­ac­ters that test our pa­tience and make this an aw­ful­ly un­pleas­ant ex­pe­ri­ence to go through.

The Din­ner Game (1998)

With the ac­tion al­most en­tire­ly con­fined to an apart­ment and cen­tered on un­stop­pable di­a­logue from be­gin­ning to end, this is a very fun­ny com­e­dy of er­rors (adapt­ed from Ve­ber’s own play) that doesn’t try to hide its ob­vi­ous the­atri­cal ori­gins and yet feels al­ways fresh and dy­nam­ic.

Dior and I (2014)

It of­fers us an in­ter­est­ing look into the fash­ion house Chris­t­ian Dior by show­ing the back­stage of the stress­ful cre­ation of Bel­gian de­sign­er Raf Si­mons’ first haute-cou­ture col­lec­tion, yet I guess it will please more those who work in the busi­ness and fash­ion buffs in gen­er­al.

Dirty Wars (2013)

Sc­ahill sets out to un­rav­el the hid­den truth be­hind a dis­turb­ing mys­tery in this al­ways grip­ping doc­u­men­tary. Still, it is hard to shake the feel­ing that as a re­sult of his in­ves­ti­ga­tion it also seems a bit pre­ma­ture and in­con­clu­sive, lack­ing enough cor­rob­o­ra­tion to make it cred­i­ble.

The Dis­ap­pear­ance of Eleanor Rig­by: Them (2014)

A sen­si­tive dra­ma with strong per­for­mances but un­for­tu­nate­ly a bit longer than it should be, with a lot of un­nec­es­sary di­a­logue (like the fi­nal tête-à-tête be­tween fa­ther and daugh­ter) and not re­al­ly able to re­sist giv­ing in to clichés and be­com­ing a melo­dra­ma close to the end.

The Dis­as­ter Artist (2017)

James Fran­co em­bod­ies Tom­my Wiseau with an in­cred­i­ble, shock­ing re­sem­blance (even when he laughs), cre­at­ing an ex­cel­lent dra­mat­ic com­e­dy that is not only hi­lar­i­ous as it ex­plores the char­ac­ter’s idio­syn­crasies but is also sur­pris­ing­ly touch­ing in the way it makes us feel for him.

The Dis­creet Charm of the Bour­geoisie (1972)

A sur­re­al­ist com­e­dy of dis­creet hu­mor that will prob­a­bly not make you laugh as much as you will feel em­bar­rassed for all of its pet­ty bour­geois char­ac­ters, and once again Buñuel smart­ly plays with his film’s struc­ture, this time to cast a sly­ly provoca­tive and cyn­i­cal view on so­ci­ety.

Dis­grace (2008)

What is so fan­tas­tic about this pow­er­ful, thought-pro­vok­ing dra­ma is not only the re­mark­ably in­tel­li­gent way that it rais­es many ques­tions about good, evil, moral­i­ty and amoral­i­ty, but also that it can be in­cred­i­bly tense, grip­ping and un­pre­dictable.

(Dis)Honesty: The Truth About Lies (2015)

An en­ter­tain­ing doc­u­men­tary that of­fers some cu­ri­ous in­for­ma­tion about our nat­ur­al in­cli­na­tion for ly­ing and the rea­sons that lead us to lie, even though the tes­ti­mo­ni­als pre­sent­ed in be­tween seem a bit ar­bi­trary some­times and don’t al­ways seem re­lat­ed to what is be­ing said.

Dis­trict 9 (2009)

Be­sides the clichés, plot holes and in­co­her­ent use of the cam­era, any al­lu­sion to Apartheid seems dis­hon­est, since it is hard to be­lieve that any­one could be tol­er­ant if an alien space­craft ar­rived on Earth car­ry­ing over a mil­lion of those re­pel­lent gi­ant lob­sters un­in­vit­ed.

Di­vine Love (2019)

While sur­pris­ing us with the atyp­i­cal idea of a theo­crat­ic so­ci­ety that uses tech­nol­o­gy to its ad­van­tage in­stead of de­mo­niz­ing it, Mas­caro de­liv­ers a mag­nif­i­cent para­ble that could­n’t rep­re­sent bet­ter the times in which we live right now, end­ing it with the punch that we all de­serve.

Di­vines (2016)

It is a sad, trag­ic and pow­er­ful so­cial com­men­tary, yet it is also hu­mor­ous and deeply touch­ing thanks to the won­der­ful per­for­mances by Oulaya Amam­ra and Déb­o­rah Luku­mue­na, who make us love their charis­mat­ic char­ac­ters and wish to see their dreams come true.

Djan­go (1966)

An amaz­ing B‑movie Spaghet­ti West­ern that has prompt­ed count­less im­i­ta­tions and un­of­fi­cial se­quels (one of­fi­cial only), boast­ing an icon­ic sullen anti-hero who would great­ly in­flu­ence the Ital­ian sub-genre. A mud­dy, vi­o­lent clas­sic that should not be missed.

Djan­go Un­chained (2012)

Taran­ti­no em­pow­ers a black slave named Djan­go to get his well-de­served re­venge against his white op­pres­sors, cre­at­ing an ex­hil­a­rat­ing, re­vi­sion­ist West­ern full of panache as he in­jects Ser­gio Cor­buc­ci’s di­rect­ing style in a top-notch vengeance-dri­ven blax­ploita­tion plot.

Djan­go (2017)

Fol­low­ing a mo­ment in Djan­go Rein­hardt’s life dur­ing World War II, this en­gag­ing dra­ma of­fers us a nu­anced por­trait of a bril­liant mu­si­cian who gets caught in a very tense sit­u­a­tion and be­gins to slow­ly re­al­ize that he must flee from the dan­ger­ous grip of a men­ac­ing regime.

Do I Kill Them? (1982)

With a wel­come rhetor­i­cal cyn­i­cism in the shape of mul­ti­ple choice ques­tions, this is an in­tel­li­gent de­nun­ci­a­tion of those who prof­it from the ex­ploita­tion of the In­dige­nous peo­ple in Brazil, in­clud­ing in­sti­tu­tions that only ex­ist to pro­tect them and even the di­rec­tor him­self.

Do Not Dis­turb (2012)

Most of this point­less film is a long, bor­ing and un­fun­ny build-up to some­thing re­al­ly frus­trat­ing — and things be­come rep­e­ti­tious very fast, with end­less scenes and con­ver­sa­tions stretched for much longer than our pa­tience can take.

Do the Right Thing (1989)

A re­mark­able film that of­fers a very fun­ny slice of life in a black neigh­bor­hood of Brook­lyn be­fore reach­ing an ex­plo­sive end­ing that forces us to con­sid­er the im­pli­ca­tions of racism and vi­o­lence in Amer­i­can so­ci­ety (even if the con­clu­sion is too am­bigu­ous for its own good).

Doce Amianto (2013)

If David Lynch and Mon­ty Python had a child who de­cid­ed to make a trashy Cin­derel­la pas­tiche in Brazil, I imag­ine this would be the re­sult, a cu­ri­ous ex­er­cise of style and mood that is hi­lar­i­ous in its over-the-top non­sense but which how­ev­er suf­fers from some lack of co­he­sion.

Os Do­ces Bár­baros (1977)

See­ing these four gi­ants of Brazil­ian pop­u­lar mu­sic singing to­geth­er on a his­toric tour would be enough to make this film worth­while, but those icon­ic mo­ments on stage are in­ter­spersed with pre­cious back­stage scenes that el­e­vate it even more thanks to the chem­istry be­tween the singers.

Doc­tor Strange (2016)

Typ­i­cal­ly ex­pos­i­to­ry (and tir­ing be­cause of that) like most films of the Mar­vel Cin­e­mat­ic Uni­verse whose main ob­jec­tive is to in­tro­duce a new su­per­hero, the movie is at least im­pres­sive with its psy­che­del­ic vi­su­al ef­fects and Bene­dict Cum­ber­batch in an in­tense per­for­mance.

Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Wor­ry­ing and Love the Bomb (1964)

An in­tel­li­gent satire which only Kubrick could have made, with an acid, hi­lar­i­ous di­a­logue and mag­nif­i­cent per­for­mances by Scott and Sell­ers — who ba­si­cal­ly im­pro­vis­es as three dif­fer­ent char­ac­ters and makes you wish he had also played the cow­boy ma­jor as he was sup­posed to.

Doc­tor Zhiva­go (1965)

The first three hours are spell­bind­ing, with fas­ci­nat­ing char­ac­ters like the ones played by Courte­nay and Steiger, but then the film col­laps­es in the last half hour, when most char­ac­ters go through in­com­pre­hen­si­ble changes in per­son­al­i­ty and the plot reach­es an aw­ful con­clu­sion.

Dog Day Af­ter­noon (1975)

Al Pa­ci­no is be­yond price­less in this hi­lar­i­ous film about a huge­ly in­ept bank rob­bery, and Lumet bal­ances hu­mor and ac­tion with per­fec­tion, cre­at­ing many mem­o­rable scenes in what is both a quirky char­ac­ter study and a sharp com­men­tary on the pow­er of the me­dia.

A Dog’s Life (1918)

Chap­lin de­liv­ers a very well-in­spired and hi­lar­i­ous 3‑reel silent that has one clas­sic scene af­ter an­oth­er — and the one in which he tries to get his mon­ey back in the ball­room is the fun­ni­est.

A Dog’s Will (2000)

The film is con­t­a­m­i­nat­ed by the aes­thet­ics of tele­vi­sion and its the­atri­cal ori­gins are quite ev­i­dent (es­pe­cial­ly in its ex­cess of di­a­logue), but this is all more than com­pen­sat­ed by how de­li­cious it is and the in­tel­li­gent way that it tack­les so­cial mat­ters and class in­equal­i­ties in Brazil.

Dog­man (2018)

On a pure­ly ra­tio­nal lev­el, I can see what Gar­rone is try­ing to do here; in prac­tice, though, his char­ac­ter’s mo­ti­va­tions are too puz­zling, as his ac­tions seem ex­treme­ly un­con­vinc­ing (no mat­ter how bril­liant Mar­cel­lo Fonte is) and he only comes off as a pas­sive id­iot full of stu­pid ideas.

Dog­tooth (2009)

The­mat­i­cal­ly, it may not be so orig­i­nal (The Vil­lage comes to mind), but there is some­thing re­al­ly fas­ci­nat­ing in this ex­treme case of parental over­pro­tec­tion gone bizarre, as it rais­es in­evitable ques­tions about hu­man na­ture, in­no­cence and what makes us dif­fer­ent from an­i­mals.

Dogville (2003)

Lars von Tri­er is a ge­nius who wrote in only 12 days (and on a drug binge, ac­cord­ing to him) the screen­play for this mod­ern clas­sic mas­ter­piece — a glo­ri­ous Chris­t­ian al­le­go­ry of hu­man na­ture and pow­er stripped down to a most ba­sic — al­most uni­ver­sal — form of sto­ry­telling.

La Dolce Vita (1960)

Told in a bril­liant episod­ic struc­ture, this fas­ci­nat­ing char­ac­ter study is the truest de­f­i­n­i­tion of Felliniesque: an ex­cep­tion­al film that is mag­i­cal in its fan­ci­ful de­pic­tion of glam­our in Ro­man aris­toc­ra­cy and de­press­ing in the way it shows the deca­dence of a so­ci­ety and of man him­self.

Don Jon (2013)

A re­fresh­ing de­but for Joseph Gor­don-Levitt as a film­mak­er, who de­liv­ers a sol­id script that holds a lot more to it than you might think and di­rects it with a very firm grip re­flect­ed in the strong per­for­mances that he and the rest of his fine cast put in.

Don Juan De­Mar­co (1994)

Mar­lon Bran­do seems mis­cast in this film but this is com­pen­sat­ed by a pas­sion­ate John­ny Depp, who shines as an in­cur­able, eter­nal ro­man­tic. A re­fresh­ing sto­ry about love and ro­mance, and the main song will be stuck in your head for quite a while af­ter the movie is over.

Dona Flor and Her Two Hus­bands (1976)

Even with a far­ci­cal charm of its own, this is a ter­ri­bly un­fun­ny com­e­dy that suf­fers from a com­plete lack of wit and pac­ing, tak­ing too long to es­tab­lish its premise by spend­ing a lot of time on an un­nec­es­sary flash­back in its first hour that does­n’t have much to of­fer.

Don’t Breathe (2016)

Fede Al­varez is a tal­ent­ed di­rec­tor, and the de­cent work he does bring­ing this sto­ry to the screen com­pen­sates for a thin, ba­nal script that lacks enough orig­i­nal twists, in­ter­est­ing char­ac­ters and even a plot that makes sense when you stop to think about it for a sec­ond.

Don’t Call Me Son (2016)

By try­ing to bring to­geth­er two poor­ly-de­vel­oped ideas with­out the co­he­sion nec­es­sary for each to work, this in­con­sis­tent dra­ma feels only un­fo­cused and frus­trat­ing­ly un­clear about what it wants to say, as it even wastes time with a point­less sub­plot cen­tered on the char­ac­ter’s broth­er.

Don’t Look Now (1973)

With a melan­choly score and fab­u­lous edit­ing, this no­tably omi­nous and labyrinthine sto­ry about grief and ac­cep­tance uses sym­bols, omens and a con­stant sense of dan­ger to make us share the in­tense con­fu­sion and dis­ori­en­ta­tion ex­pe­ri­enced by its char­ac­ters.

Don’t Wor­ry, I’m Fine (2006)

A sol­id dra­ma that be­gins with a sim­ple premise but then grows in­creas­ing­ly en­gag­ing as it re­fus­es to of­fer easy an­swers and al­ways sur­pris­es us with Li­oret’s firm di­rec­tion — a film that will prob­a­bly leave you pon­der­ing for some time about the ques­tions it rais­es.

Dos­siê Jan­go (2013)

A tremen­dous­ly im­por­tant doc­u­men­tary that may not elu­ci­date what re­al­ly hap­pened but rais­es se­ri­ous doubt about the sus­pi­cious cir­cum­stances in­volv­ing the death of de­posed pres­i­dent João Goulart — and makes a rein­ves­ti­ga­tion ab­solute­ly nec­es­sary in a coun­try that nev­er even pun­ished its dic­ta­tors.

The Dou­ble (2013)

This at­mos­pher­ic and vi­su­al­ly styl­ized psy­cho­log­i­cal thriller based on Dos­to­evsky brings to mind Kaf­ka, Hitch­cock, Bri­an De Pal­ma, Or­son Welles and even David Lynch in the way it makes us share the un­set­tling ex­is­tence of a shy man who is forced to con­front his lone­li­ness.

Dou­ble In­dem­ni­ty (1944)

One of the most in­dis­putable de­fin­ers of noir and a clas­sic film with a fan­tas­tic di­rec­tion and cin­e­matog­ra­phy, a de­li­cious­ly sharp di­a­logue and won­der­ful per­for­mances in a plot that is breath­tak­ing­ly tense, sus­pense­ful and even di­a­bol­i­cal.

Down­siz­ing (2017)

Even with such a promis­ing idea and a tal­ent­ed cast (Hong Chau is amaz­ing), it is a pity that Payne does­n’t re­al­ly man­age to find a cen­ter for his sto­ry, cre­at­ing an un­even film that al­ways tries to come up with new things to say and to dis­cuss but with­out know­ing how to do so.

Drac­u­la (1931)

It knows how to cre­ate a very creepy at­mos­phere and ben­e­fits from a mag­net­ic per­for­mance by Bela Lu­gosi, even though the movie did­n’t age so well (a delet­ed epi­logue makes the last scene seem too abrupt to­day) and every­thing about it is more the­atri­cal than re­al­is­tic.

Dragged Across Con­crete (2018)

S. Craig Zahler proves again he is a mas­ter when it comes to slow-paced nar­ra­tives that don’t even let us re­al­ize how at­tached to the char­ac­ters we be­come — or how much we care about what hap­pens to them de­spite their flaws — while Mel Gib­son de­liv­ers one of the best per­for­mances of his ca­reer.

Dream (2008)

It is a cu­ri­ous thing that the hand­some Joe Oda­giri speaks Japan­ese through­out the whole film while all the oth­er char­ac­ters speak Ko­re­an and yet every­one un­der­stands each oth­er in this mys­ti­cal Jun­gian re­flec­tion on the Bud­dhist Yin/Yang at­trac­tion.

Dream House (2011)

This mess of a film has a few in­ter­est­ing el­e­ments but the stu­pid plot wants so bad­ly to be con­vo­lut­ed that it for­gets to be co­her­ent or even plau­si­ble. And be­ware, the trail­er gives away the en­tire movie, in­clud­ing the twists, which only proves that the peo­ple in charge of the mar­ket­ing are com­plete im­be­ciles.

The Dress­er (1983)

The ex­quis­ite di­a­logue and the Os­car-nom­i­nat­ed per­for­mances by Finney and Courte­nay, who are no less than splen­did to­geth­er, are what makes this dra­ma so en­gag­ing, cen­tered on such a fas­ci­nat­ing and com­plex re­la­tion­ship be­tween the two char­ac­ters.

Drifter (2007)

Much un­like The Soul of the Bone, Drifter finds Guimarães at his most po­et­ic, for­mal­ly rig­or­ous and in­vis­i­ble be­hind the cam­era, car­ing to sim­ply ob­serve his three sub­jects in their aim­less va­grancy while man­ag­ing to ex­tract beau­ty and mean­ing from so many sym­bol­i­cal­ly evoca­tive shots.

Dri­ve (2011)

This ar­t­house ac­tion-noir is es­pe­cial­ly suc­cess­ful in what is so hard to see in movies to­day: style plus sub­stance, with a fan­tas­tic Ryan Gosling as a sullen, cal­cu­lat­ing and self-con­trolled Man With No Name in a plot that per­fect­ly blends a melan­choly at­mos­phere and bru­tal vi­o­lence.

Dri­ving Miss Daisy (1989)

Why this movie won so many Os­cars is some­thing that es­capes me, giv­en its an­noy­ing and poor­ly-paced nar­ra­tive that forces us to en­dure an un­bear­able old lady and feels tremen­dous­ly episod­ic try­ing to span 25 years with skips in time that are nev­er flu­id.

The Drop (2014)

Even if the char­ac­ters are in­ter­est­ing (with the ex­cep­tion of a use­less po­lice­man that should­n’t even be there) and the slow-burn­ing plot is en­gag­ing, the clunky end­ing makes it feel like it does­n’t know ex­act­ly what it wants to say, with its last two scenes be­ing re­dun­dant and in­con­sis­tent.

Drug­store Cow­boy (1989)

Matt Dil­lon de­liv­ers an ex­cel­lent per­for­mance (one of his best) in a film that can be equal­ly sad and fun­ny (even fun­nier than one would imag­ine), sur­pris­ing us with the depth it achieves yet reach­ing an end­ing that feels too easy com­pared to the au­dac­i­ty that pre­ced­ed it.

The Duchess (2008)

A hand­some­ly-mount­ed pe­ri­od dra­ma that im­press­es more for its daz­zling art di­rec­tion and cos­tume de­sign than for any­thing plot-re­lat­ed, telling a half-baked “fem­i­nist” sto­ry that wants to look like it has some sort of hap­py end­ing when in fact there is noth­ing re­al­ly sat­is­fy­ing about it.

Duck Soup (1933)

The Marx broth­ers raise hell and guns and laugh­ter in this clas­sic, with big mu­si­cal num­bers and a hys­ter­i­cal slap­stick hu­mor full of puns and phys­i­cal gags and mem­o­rable scenes that helped de­fine the com­e­dy genre and were an in­spi­ra­tion to many great co­me­di­ans who came af­ter.

Duck, You Suck­er (1971)

A mi­nor clas­sic that sad­ly pales in com­par­i­son with those oth­er su­pe­ri­or films made by Leone, but still this is a great West­ern about friend­ship in a po­lit­i­cal rev­o­lu­tion, with some mes­mer­iz­ing per­for­mances and an en­chant­i­ng melan­choly score by En­nio Mor­ri­cone.

Due Date (2010)

Due Date has a good deal of fun­ny mo­ments and works thanks to the tal­ent of its two stars, es­pe­cial­ly Gal­i­fi­anakis, who is re­al­ly ob­nox­ious at first but soon gains our sym­pa­thy.

The DUFF (2015)

What seems at first like just an­oth­er or­di­nary teen movie turns out to be a lot bet­ter in a fun­nier sec­ond half that gets es­pe­cial­ly el­e­vat­ed by the great chem­istry be­tween Whit­man and Amell, who are very charis­mat­ic and could­n’t have been a more per­fect choice for their roles.

The Duke of Bur­gundy (2014)

This stim­u­lat­ing, styl­ish and sen­su­al sto­ry of dom­i­na­tion and co-de­pen­den­cy is not only tech­ni­cal­ly ir­re­proach­able (with those gor­geous vi­su­als, a won­der­ful score and an out­stand­ing sound de­sign) but is also in­tel­li­gent and rings truer than most films about love and re­la­tion­ships.

Dumb and Dumb­er (1994)

An un­pre­ten­tious com­e­dy that nev­er los­es its fun and is non-stop laughs from be­gin­ning to end even af­ter many view­ings, re­ly­ing on the hys­ter­i­cal raunchy hu­mor that the Far­rellys can get away with so well and on two amaz­ing per­for­mances by Car­rey and Daniels at their best.

Dumb and Dumb­er To (2014)

A very sol­id se­quel that re­tains the goofy charm of the great orig­i­nal movie even if it may feel like just more of the same, and once again the Far­rellys know that, like in that film, it is the char­ac­ters (and their hi­lar­i­ous stu­pid­i­ty), not an ac­tu­al plot, that it should be about.

Dum­bo (1941)

The box of­fice fail­ure of Fan­ta­sia prompt­ed Dis­ney to make this much sim­pler an­i­ma­tion that re­lies more on char­ac­ters and feel­ings, and it has a very beau­ti­ful sto­ry (de­spite some eth­nic stereo­types) about re­jec­tion and how one’s “de­fect” ends up be­ing what makes one so spe­cial.

Dum­bo (2019)

Even while try­ing to make some­thing big­ger and dif­fer­ent from the orig­i­nal movie, Bur­ton iron­i­cal­ly ends up with an­oth­er use­less Dis­ney live-ac­tion re­make: pre­dictable, life­less with its an­noy­ing­ly dark cin­e­matog­ra­phy and my­opic when­ev­er con­ve­nient to­wards an­i­mal cap­tiv­i­ty in cir­cus­es.

Dumplings (2004)

Fruit Chan crafts a queasy, un­set­tling film about van­i­ty and ob­ses­sion us­ing an ex­em­plary sound de­sign to evoke ten­sion from a re­al­ly un­usu­al premise. Still, it has prob­lems in the edit­ing, while the parts don’t seem to add up to an ex­act­ly sat­is­fy­ing whole.

Dunkirk (2017)

How­ev­er in­ter­est­ing it may be, the non-lin­ear­i­ty of the plot is quite dis­tract­ing and dis­ori­ent­ing (and not in a good way), and it is much eas­i­er to ad­mire this movie for be­ing tech­ni­cal­ly ef­fi­cient (de­spite Hans Zim­mer’s clichéd score and how loud every­thing is) than any­thing it tells.

Du­plex (2003)

It is Eileen Es­sell who makes it a real plea­sure to watch this mild­ly en­ter­tain­ing com­e­dy that, de­spite its share of fun­ny mo­ments here and there and a good twist in the end, has not much else to of­fer in terms of nar­ra­tive and gets less and less fun­ny af­ter halfway through.

Du­plic­i­ty (2009)

Great per­for­mances and a de­light­ful chem­istry be­tween Roberts and Owen help lift this in­tel­li­gent, fun­ny and well-con­struct­ed es­pi­onage film above many oth­er sim­i­lar ones, and it ben­e­fits even more from a wit­ty di­a­logue and clever plot twists.

Dzi Cro­quettes (2009)

I have is­sues with the film’s edit­ing, since the in­for­ma­tion is pre­sent­ed in a rather clum­sy, hap­haz­ard man­ner (not to men­tion the heavy-hand­ed way the di­rec­tor puts her­self in it), but still this is such an en­gag­ing and en­light­en­ing doc about those ground­break­ing artists.

E.T. the Ex­tra-Ter­res­tri­al (1982)

The film’s great­est achieve­ment is how E.T. looks so pure and hu­man, with big eyes full of in­no­cence and beau­ty (al­though ‘hu­man’ is prob­a­bly not the best word to de­scribe him, con­sid­er­ing how hu­mans are af­ter all), which el­e­vates this to one of Spiel­berg’s most mag­i­cal cre­ations.

The Ea­gle (2011)

A moral­ly re­pel­lent movie that clear­ly sup­ports im­pe­ri­al­ism (the em­blem be­ing an ea­gle and the Ro­mans per­formed by Amer­i­can ac­tors) and con­sid­ers those who re­sist it as ruth­less sav­ages, which makes it un­be­liev­able that Jamie Bel­l’s char­ac­ter would help the in­vaders re­gain their “hon­or.”

The Ear (1990)

It should­n’t come as a sur­prise to any­one that this film was banned by the rul­ing Com­mu­nist par­ty in Czecho­slo­va­kia when it was com­plet­ed, con­sid­er­ing the open and de­fi­ant way it crit­i­cizes the regime, its abu­sive poli­cies and the fear it in­stilled in peo­ple, end­ing also on a most har­row­ing note.

The East (2013)

The kind of stu­pid thriller that tries to pass as nu­anced but only in­sults our in­tel­li­gence with too much ex­po­si­tion and gaps in log­ic that make any sus­pen­sion of dis­be­lief im­pos­si­ble. And Brit Mar­ling makes it worse play­ing a char­ac­ter who can’t con­vince as an un­der­cov­er agent.

East of Eden (1955)

A time­less and pro­found­ly touch­ing retelling of the Bib­li­cal sto­ry of Cain and Abel us­ing the ear­ly 20th cen­tu­ry Cal­i­for­nia as back­drop. While the vi­su­als and mu­sic are won­der­ful, it is James Dean’s per­for­mance the most spec­tac­u­lar here, es­pe­cial­ly in the poignant fi­nal scene.

Easy A (2010)

It is cu­ri­ous how, apart from be­ing strange­ly im­plau­si­ble, this pass­able com­e­dy wants to pose as open-mind­ed about fe­male sex­u­al­i­ty but can­not hide its moral­is­tic un­der­tones (it was made by a man, what a sur­prise), while re­mind­ing us all the time of bet­ter teen movies.

Easy Street (1917)

A light and fun­ny silent short in which Chap­lin the tramp gets a job as a po­lice­man and must put or­der in the Lon­don slums.

Eat Pray Love (2010)

Even if Ju­lia Roberts is adorable and the stun­ning scenery will prob­a­bly make you want to go back­pack­ing around the world, this weak movie feels a bit bloat­ed and too long for a ro­man­tic dra­ma, and it does­n’t have what it takes to keep our in­ter­est for all that run­ning time.

Ec­cen­tric­i­ties of a Blonde-haired Girl (2009)

Oliveira, who was over a hun­dred years old when he made this film, crafts an in­ter­est­ing six­ty-minute adap­ta­tion of a short sto­ry writ­ten by the 19th-cen­tu­ry Por­tuguese writer Eça de Queirós, with an in­trigu­ing nar­ra­tive that brings to mind the sur­re­al style of Luis Buñuel.

L’E­clisse (1962)

The bold­est film of An­to­nion­i’s in­for­mal tril­o­gy in terms of lan­guage, as he makes choic­es that would nor­mal­ly and ob­jec­tive­ly be con­sid­ered wrong but could­n’t feel more right here, and he even uses some pow­er­ful sym­bol­ism to make us share the char­ac­ters’ dis­sat­is­fac­tion.

Ed Wood (1994)

Bur­ton treats his idio­syn­crat­ic char­ac­ter with great af­fec­tion and re­spect, in a de­light­ful (and very fun­ny) bi­og­ra­phy that em­u­lates with per­fec­tion the vi­su­als of clas­sic hor­ror movies — mak­ing us even want to check out Ed Wood’s turkeys. Be­sides, Depp and Lan­dau are mag­nif­i­cent.

Ed­die the Ea­gle (2016)

The kind of in­spi­ra­tional sto­ry in which we know every­thing that is go­ing to hap­pen but still we hap­pi­ly em­brace the clichés that make it seem like a de­li­cious throw­back to the ’80s (the mu­sic is great), and Egerton has so much charis­ma that we can’t help but fall in love with his char­ac­ter.

Eden (2014)

Hansen-Løve’s in­ti­mate, low-key ap­proach may come off as a bit too stiff for the film’s own sake — main­ly, the di­a­logue sounds marked­ly stiff and the de­liv­ery of the lines by the ac­tors also -, but there is a sen­si­tive qual­i­ty to her sto­ry that makes it cu­ri­ous­ly af­fect­ing.

Edge of To­mor­row (2014)

It may not be ex­act­ly orig­i­nal, but this ef­fec­tive and ex­pert­ly-edit­ed sci-fi movie does a great job com­bin­ing aliens and a Ground­hog Day plot with top-notch vi­su­al ef­fects and a fan­tas­tic sound de­sign, while Tom Cruise sells his char­ac­ter’s evo­lu­tion with a typ­i­cal mag­net­ic per­for­mance.

An Ed­u­ca­tion (2009)

A charm­ing, provoca­tive and, above all, ma­ture com­ing-of-age dra­ma with a sim­ple yet moral­ly com­plex sto­ry that nev­er gives in to easy so­lu­tions — and, while the cast is won­der­ful, it is Carey Mul­li­gan who def­i­nite­ly shines in a re­mark­able per­for­mance.

Effi Briest (1974)

Fass­binder di­rects this pe­ri­od piece with an im­pres­sive tech­ni­cal so­phis­ti­ca­tion, some­thing ev­i­dent in the ex­quis­ite mise-en-scène and cin­e­matog­ra­phy. And he finds in Fontane’s crit­i­cism of so­ci­ety a per­fect ma­te­r­i­al to be adapt­ed by him, al­though the re­sult is a bit too long.

The Eich­mann Show (2015)

Unin­spired and ba­nal like a TV movie, it does­n’t live up to the com­plex­i­ty of the moral ques­tions that it in­evitably rais­es re­gard­ing Eich­man­n’s tri­al and ends up feel­ing as ma­nip­u­la­tive and self-im­por­tant as the spec­ta­cle it tells us about.


Felli­ni takes his ex­is­ten­tial mus­ings from La Dolce Vita to a rad­i­cal lev­el with this fas­ci­nat­ing­ly in­ti­mate and gor­geous ex­er­cise in self-re­flec­tion (the ti­tle could­n’t be more per­fect), shap­ing it as a styl­ish anti-com­e­dy and build­ing it upon a sur­pris­ing anti-struc­tur­al nar­ra­tive skele­ton.

Eight Hours Don’t Make a Day (1972)

Eight hours of this de­li­cious fam­i­ly minis­eries made by Fass­binder is more than any­one could ask for, de­light­ing us with great per­for­mances and a lot of hi­lar­i­ous sit­u­a­tions that prove to be just as en­ter­tain­ing as they are clever as a com­men­tary on so­ci­ety, fam­i­ly and class.

8 Mile (2002)

Em­inem shows he has a nat­ur­al tal­ent for act­ing, de­liv­er­ing a strong per­for­mance in this sol­id un­der­dog sto­ry that could have been the first of many for him, and this is a well-writ­ten dra­ma de­spite the lin­ear struc­ture that does­n’t re­al­ly al­low for many sur­pris­es.

Eighth Grade (2018)

It is great to see a film about ado­les­cence that feels like the real thing for a change and not just some sil­ly, ro­man­ti­cized idea of it, which is even more re­mark­able when you con­sid­er that Bo Burn­ham is a grown-up man who clear­ly has­n’t for­got­ten what it is like to be a teenag­er.

Eisen­stein in Gua­na­ju­a­to (2015)

It may not be easy for some to tol­er­ate Green­away’s styl­is­tic ex­cess­es and kitschy de­pic­tion of Eisen­stein, but once you get used to all that, you will find an ec­cen­tric biopic that could have only come from him and is lift­ed by a com­mit­ted cen­tral per­for­mance by Elmer Bäck.

The Ein­stein of Sex (1999)

The film’s di­dac­ti­cism and lack of aes­thet­ic re­fine­ment may push some view­ers away, but Rosa von Praun­heim does­n’t care about that and is main­ly in­ter­est­ed in telling us the sto­ry of the man that was Mag­nus Hirschfeld and his im­por­tance for the LGBT rights move­ment, which he does.

El (1953)

Glo­ri­a’s pas­siv­i­ty and de­ter­mi­na­tion to be­lieve a man she bare­ly knows be­comes all the more ex­as­per­at­ing as the nar­ra­tive un­folds, but Buñuel cre­ates a grip­ping por­trait of male dom­i­nance, abuse and para­noia with a cyn­i­cal last scene that could­n’t be more mean­ing­ful.

El Do­ra­do (1966)

Hawks re-teams with John Wayne in this ob­vi­ous re­make of Rio Bra­vo (al­though he al­ways de­nied that), which de­spite lack­ing in orig­i­nal­i­ty and be­ing too fa­mil­iar for its own good, boasts a stun­ning cin­e­matog­ra­phy, el­e­gant di­a­logue and Robert Mitchum vir­tu­al­ly steal­ing the scene.

Elec­tion (1999)

An amus­ing satir­i­cal film that may take us more than one view­ing to grasp its sub­tle, dark hu­mor and the sharp irony of what it wants to say in­volv­ing ethics and moral­i­ty — and it ben­e­fits im­mense­ly from some very nu­anced char­ac­ters played by the ac­tors in ex­cel­lent per­for­mances.

Ele­na (2011)

An in­trigu­ing dra­ma of fas­ci­nat­ing moral com­plex­i­ty and am­bi­gu­i­ty, with an el­e­gant di­rec­tion that makes use of sev­er­al long takes to show us the every­day life of its main char­ac­ter and the dras­tic choic­es that she de­cides to make in view of some hard cir­cum­stances.

Ele­na (2012)

Pe­tra Cos­ta search­es for her old­er sis­ter as a way to find her­self — both the per­son and the artist she has be­come over the years fol­low­ing a tragedy that changed her for­ev­er and some­how shaped her per­son­al ex­pres­sion into some­thing per­cep­tive, ma­ture and tremen­dous like what we see here.

Ele­phant (2003)

With a flaw­less di­rec­tion and el­e­gant long takes, this hyp­no­tiz­ing film moves in a care­ful pace to fol­low its char­ac­ters pri­or to an im­pend­ing tragedy. I only wish I felt more in­volved with them, while the am­a­teur ac­tors could have con­veyed a more au­then­tic sense of ter­ror.

Elite Squad (2007)

To dis­miss this un­com­fort­able film as “fas­cist” like many did (and still do) is in it­self an un­fair and dan­ger­ous sim­pli­fi­ca­tion, giv­en the com­plex pic­ture that Padil­ha draws of Brazil­ian so­ci­ety — a tragedy, ac­tu­al­ly — where vi­o­lence seems to be the only way to com­bat crime and vi­o­lence.

Elite Squad: The En­e­my With­in (2010)

Even bet­ter than the ex­cep­tion­al first movie, it presents an in­tel­li­gent sto­ry in which drug traf­fick­ing in Rio de Janeiro is beat­en but then a new en­e­my ris­es — a po­ten­tial sce­nario that ex­pos­es a com­plex so­cial can­cer that goes all the way up to the politi­cians, in­clud­ing the cor­rupt Mil­i­tary Po­lice and the shady in­ter­ests of the me­dia.

Eliz­a­beth (1998)

A hand­some pe­ri­od dra­ma that looks stun­ning but feels more like read­ing a His­to­ry book, with a plain screen­play that does­n’t of­fer many sur­pris­es and a cold, di­dac­tic di­rec­tion by Shekhar Ka­pur that does­n’t leave us en­gaged in the way that it ac­tu­al­ly should.

Eliz­a­beth: The Gold­en Age (2007)

Over­ly dra­mat­ic and cheesy like a soap opera, this stu­pid cos­tume dra­ma made to daz­zle us with its sump­tu­ous pro­duc­tion de­sign seems like two sto­ries in one and can­not de­cide if it wants to be a ro­mance for women or a back­stab­bing pe­ri­od dra­ma, and so it sim­ply fails as both.

Elle (2016)

Ver­ho­even cre­ates a high­ly ef­fec­tive and ab­sorb­ing com­bi­na­tion of thriller and char­ac­ter study, be­ing par­tic­u­lar­ly suc­cess­ful as the for­mer and ben­e­fit­ing from a care­ful, nu­anced per­for­mance by Is­abelle Hup­pert, who of­fers a whole lot of depth to a dif­fi­cult char­ac­ter.

Elvis & Nixon (2016)

Even if it does­n’t have that much to of­fer apart from be­ing an amus­ing cu­rios­i­ty about an icon­ic mo­ment im­mor­tal­ized in a pho­to­graph, the film is su­per fun­ny and fun to watch, with great di­a­logue and two price­less per­for­mances by Michael Shan­non and Kevin Spacey.

Ely­si­um (2013)

Aside from Jodie Fos­ter’s over-the-top per­for­mance and an ir­ri­tat­ing shaky cam­era that makes it hard some­times to fol­low what is hap­pen­ing in the ac­tion scenes, Blomkamp re­al­ly hits the mark with this ef­fi­cient sci-fi that is en­ter­tain­ing and even thought-pro­vok­ing.

Em­bod­i­ment of Evil (2008)

It is fun to see how it up­dates the trashy qual­i­ty of Cof­fin Joe’s pre­vi­ous films to mod­ern times, but Marins is a ter­ri­ble ac­tor (what hap­pened to the guy who used to dub him?) and the movie is a ridicu­lous mess that also ex­ag­ger­ates in its mind­less scenes of vi­o­lence against women.

Emelie (2015)

Like some tired re­hash of The Hand That Rocks the Cra­dle, this is a frus­trat­ing im­be­cil­i­ty that seems made to only an­noy the view­ers with its dumb char­ac­ters, in­ept di­rec­tion, an­ti­cli­mac­tic plot and a lame vil­lain whose mo­ti­va­tions for tor­tur­ing chil­dren are just in­com­pre­hen­si­ble.

End of Watch (2012)

It takes a very in­com­pe­tent di­rec­tor to be this in­ca­pable of us­ing the (clichéd) sub­jec­tive cam­era in a min­i­mal­ly co­her­ent way — and Ayer also sinks his de­cent plot with in­con­sis­ten­cies and a pa­thet­ic end­ing that even in­cludes a use­less epi­logue.

The End­less (2017)

Much like its sis­ter-film Res­o­lu­tion, this is a most­ly un­event­ful low-bud­get sci­ence fic­tion that takes for­ev­er for things to start to hap­pen — and when they fi­nal­ly do, the re­sult does­n’t live up to its promis­ing ideas, be­com­ing only con­fus­ing and dis­ap­point­ing in its ex­e­cu­tion.

End­less Love (1981)

I guess I must be one of the very few who man­aged to feel the de­spair of the char­ac­ter’s ob­ses­sive love (to the sound of that heart­break­ing Li­onel Richie song), but sad­ly af­ter one hour the movie be­comes a sap­py, over­plot­ted soap opera and does­n’t even care to of­fer us a con­clu­sion.

End­less Love (2014)

Bear­ing no re­sem­blance at all to the orig­i­nal sto­ry, this end­less­ly aw­ful teenage melo­dra­ma ba­si­cal­ly tries to cre­ate con­flict by turn­ing the girl’s fa­ther into a mon­ster but only man­ages to be non­sen­si­cal — re­al­ly, it does­n’t even have any idea of what a rec­om­men­da­tion let­ter is.

End­less Night (2015)

With an im­pres­sive cin­e­matog­ra­phy that wide­ly ex­plores the iso­la­tion and vast white­ness of the Arc­tic, this is an en­gag­ing sto­ry cen­tered on a cul­tur­al clash ex­pe­ri­enced by two very dif­fer­ent char­ac­ters who are forced to en­dure a ter­ri­fy­ing glacial night­mare to­geth­er.

End­less Po­et­ry (2016)

With gor­geous styl­ized vi­su­als that man­age to im­press us al­most every time thanks to the cu­ri­ous ways that Jodor­owsky il­lus­trates his mem­o­ries, this au­to­bi­o­graph­i­cal film proves to be even more po­et­ic than the sur­pris­ing The Dance of Re­al­i­ty and an equal­ly touch­ing ex­pe­ri­ence.

En­e­my (2013)

A chal­leng­ing and dis­ori­ent­ing puz­zle that moves at a slow-burn­ing pace and builds an ex­treme­ly tense at­mos­phere to pro­mote dis­cus­sions and in­ter­pre­ta­tions re­gard­ing its mind-twist­ing plot — which may be sim­pler than it seems, with a key to it on one of its posters.

The Eng­lish Pa­tient (1996)

The kind of over­long and self-im­por­tant epic-scale dra­ma that seems tai­lor-made to win every award for its out­stand­ing vi­su­als, per­for­mances, make-up and edit­ing, but which suf­fers from an ex­cess of char­ac­ters and sub­plots while lack­ing in fo­cus and mean­ing.

Enough Said (2013)

A sweet and ma­ture ro­man­tic com­e­dy that, be­hind its ap­par­ent sim­plic­i­ty, is more nu­anced than one would imag­ine, of­fer­ing an hon­est in­sight into love be­tween mid­dle-aged peo­ple and with great per­for­mances by Drey­fus and Gan­dolfi­ni (who will be missed).

En­ron: The Smartest Guys in the Room (2005)

Ex­pos­ing the de­tails of the En­ron case in an al­ways in­for­ma­tive, hu­mor­ous and en­gag­ing way, this doc­u­men­tary be­comes an es­sen­tial ex­am­i­na­tion of the high price of a free, dereg­u­lat­ed mar­ket for the cus­tomers and also of our shock­ing propen­si­ty to obey au­thor­i­ty fig­ures with­out ques­tion­ing.

En­ter the Void (2009)

With this un­com­fort­able drug-like ex­pe­ri­ence of strong col­ors and strobe lights, Gas­par Noé proves again that he is such an imag­i­na­tive di­rec­tor, tak­ing us with his sub­jec­tive cam­era in a de­press­ing psy­che­del­ic trip pre­sent­ed en­tire­ly from the point of view of its main char­ac­ter.

The En­ti­ty (1982)

Al­though it is a bit over­long and not ex­act­ly scary, this is a de­cent su­per­nat­ur­al film that ben­e­fits from a good di­a­logue and char­ac­ters that act like nor­mal peo­ple in view of the dis­turb­ing cir­cum­stances they find them­selves in, with Bar­bara Her­shey in a strong per­for­mance.

En­tourage (2015)

I have nev­er seen the HBO se­ries (and don’t in­tend to), but this sil­ly (and rarely fun­ny) movie was ob­vi­ous­ly con­ceived for fans only, with lots of celebri­ty cameos and char­ac­ters who look ter­ri­bly shal­low — Ari be­ing the ex­cep­tion, even over­shad­ow­ing the pro­tag­o­nist, Vince, who is bare­ly there.

En­tranced Earth (1967)

This Brecht­ian al­le­go­ry of huge cin­e­mat­ic and his­tor­i­cal im­por­tance nev­er feels ob­so­lete con­sid­er­ing that a lot re­mains un­changed when it comes to politi­cians and their twist­ed ethics, and it is a deliri­ous and au­da­cious film of spell­bind­ing im­agery with no di­vert­ing sub­tle­ty.

En­tre Nós (2013)

A del­i­cate and pro­found­ly com­plex char­ac­ter study that finds a most per­fect bal­ance be­tween melan­choly and hu­mor, with mul­ti­di­men­sion­al char­ac­ters (played by some ex­cel­lent ac­tors), an el­e­gant, flu­id di­rec­tion and a spon­ta­neous di­a­logue that feels as though it were all ad-libbed.

An Episode in the Life of an Iron Pick­er (2013)

Tanovic tells this re­volt­ing real sto­ry us­ing a wel­come ver­ité style and non-pro­fes­sion­al ac­tors who play them­selves, all in a way that in­vites com­par­isons with the Iran­ian New Wave, but his plain, fly-on-the-wall ap­proach may feel dis­tant and pre­vent us from a greater emo­tion­al re­sponse to it.

Equi­lib­ri­um (2002)

Un­fair­ly un­der­rat­ed, Equi­lib­ri­um clear­ly bor­rows from The Ma­trix and clas­sic sci-fi films such as Fahren­heit 451 and 1984 but stands out on its own most­ly thanks to the main char­ac­ter’s per­son­al emo­tion­al con­flict and its in­tense, well-chore­o­graphed fight­ing scenes.

Ernest & Ce­les­tine (2012)

Made from sim­ple ar­ti­sanal draw­ings of pas­tel tones and with a great sound de­sign, this joy­ful tale of friend­ship of­fers a smart com­men­tary on prej­u­dice and ac­cep­tance of peo­ple’s dif­fer­ences — a very im­por­tant mes­sage for chil­dren to­day.

Es­cape (2012)

John Rhys-Davies must be des­per­ate to be in just about any project, for noth­ing else jus­ti­fies him be­ing in this preachy Chris­t­ian garbage about God and faith that looks like a cheap TV movie with lousy act­ing and not even a de­cent cin­e­matog­ra­phy to ex­plore the beau­ty of its lo­ca­tions.

Es­cape from Al­ca­traz (1979)

An ef­fi­cient prison break movie that man­ages to be tense and grip­ping, even though there is noth­ing re­al­ly mem­o­rable about the plot and it does­n’t even make any at­tempt to con­ceal its ar­ti­fi­cial and clear­ly ma­nip­u­la­tive ef­forts to cre­ate sus­pense in many key scenes.

Es­cape Room (2019)

Any­one who has ever seen Cube or Saw will quick­ly no­tice how un­o­rig­i­nal, de­riv­a­tive and plain dumb this movie is — only adapt­ed to the mod­ern “es­cape games” fever but bare­ly man­ag­ing to be fun with a se­ries of lame traps and sil­ly rev­e­la­tions that don’t re­al­ly mat­ter.

The Es­capist (2008)

For those who have seen more than two or three prison break movies in their lives, this mediocre film won’t of­fer any­thing new even if it be­lieves to be do­ing some­thing pret­ty smart and pro­found with an an­noy­ing flash­back struc­ture and a sil­ly Am­brose Bierce twist in the end.

Es­co­bar: Par­adise Lost (2014)

So what that Es­co­bar is not the pro­tag­o­nist, when Del Toro’s mag­net­ic pres­ence looms over the whole film like a ter­ri­fy­ing men­ace and we are of­fered a sec­ond half that is so nerve-wrack­ing? — de­spite the first half be­ing too con­ven­tion­al and the sup­port­ing char­ac­ters frus­trat­ing­ly one-di­men­sion­al.

Es­sen­tial Killing (2010)

Even if not orig­i­nal and prov­ing to be a wear­ing ex­pe­ri­ence, this vis­cer­al film de­serves cred­it for be­ing al­most with­out di­a­logue — and Gal­lo does a good job as a des­per­ate man strug­gling for sur­vival in an in­hos­pitable place, while the lo­ca­tions high­light well his iso­la­tion.

Esta Não É a Sua Vida (1991)

As an ex­er­cise in doc­u­men­tary-mak­ing that ques­tions the limit(ation)s of the medi­um, the way it in­ter­venes in anonymi­ty and also its in­abil­i­ty to de­ter­mine who we are, this is more in­ter­est­ing than the ac­tu­al re­sult, and I guess be­cause not every life is that in­ter­est­ing.

Es­tami­ra (2004)

Mar­cos Pra­do finds in poor Es­tami­ra a right­ful spokesper­son for (or should I say, a prophet of) the out­cast and mis­er­able — those who can only lose their minds with so much suf­fer­ing while liv­ing in­cred­i­bly sad, un­grate­ful lives that should­n’t even be rel­e­gat­ed to an­i­mals.

Es­tom­a­go: A Gas­tro­nom­ic Sto­ry (2007)

With top-notch edit­ing, score and per­for­mances (es­pe­cial­ly João Miguel, of course, who proves again what an amaz­ing ac­tor he is), Es­tom­a­go is an in­tel­li­gent and dark­ly hi­lar­i­ous film that cyn­i­cal­ly cor­re­lates food, sex and pow­er and moves to­wards a de­li­cious­ly bizarre con­clu­sion.

Eu Não Faço a Menor Ideia do Que Eu Tô Fazen­do Com a Min­ha Vida (2012)

A harm­less but mild­ly pleas­ant Brazil­ian in­die ro­mance that has some good mo­ments here and there but is ir­reg­u­lar as a whole and with­out much fo­cus or rhythm, with a script that roams around with­out know­ing where to go and sil­ly philo­soph­i­cal mus­ings that are a real bore.

Eu­ropa ’51 (1952)

De­spite its no­ble in­ten­tions, this preachy film was clear­ly made as a ve­hi­cle for Rossellini’s marx­ist dis­course — and not only it re­lies on a con­trived premise that is hard to buy but also has a very heavy-hand­ed ex­e­cu­tion, with a clum­sy di­a­logue and a ter­ri­ble lack of sub­tle­ty.

Eu­roTrip (2004)

A pret­ty fun­ny teen sex com­e­dy full of dirty jokes and bath­room hu­mor. It is noth­ing spe­cial and def­i­nite­ly not sup­posed to be tak­en se­ri­ous­ly, so just let your­self go with it and you may laugh real hard at its hi­lar­i­ous non­sense and in­spired mo­ments.

Even the Rain (2010)

An in­trigu­ing Span­ish dra­ma that rais­es many com­plex ques­tions about moral­i­ty with well-con­struct­ed char­ac­ters who have sol­id mo­ti­va­tions for their ac­tions, and the plot makes some cu­ri­ous par­al­lels be­tween the ear­ly col­o­niza­tion of Amer­i­ca and mod­ern-day im­pe­ri­al­ism.

Event Hori­zon (1997)

A lousy and unimag­i­na­tive mix of So­laris, 2001: A Space Odyssey, Alien, The Shin­ing, Hell­rais­er and more — and if be­ing a rag­bag like this does­n’t give you an idea of the dis­as­ter that could only come from it, the cheap, loud scares and An­der­son­’s aw­ful di­rec­tion are def­i­nite proof.

Ever­est (2015)

A nerve-wreck­ing and mov­ing film that re­counts the real sto­ry of an ad­ven­ture that turned into a night­mare at the top of the world, and it is great to see how it de­picts the whole in­ci­dent as a re­al­is­tic con­se­quence of a risky jour­ney in­stead of mak­ing it about mere vi­su­al en­ter­tain­ment.

Every Thing Will Be Fine (2015)

I can’t stop think­ing how un­nec­es­sary — even if very well made — the 3D is in this un­even film, and, al­though James Fran­co is great as al­ways, the film’s con­fused at­tempt at be­com­ing a thriller at a cer­tain point does­n’t work and it all falls flat with an un­con­vinc­ing res­o­lu­tion.

Every­thing’s Al­right (1978)

Ir­reg­u­lar and some­times a bit ir­ri­tat­ing with its hys­ter­i­cal hub­bub of peo­ple yelling point­less mono­logues, at least it com­pen­sates for all that with ex­cel­lent per­for­mances and many hi­lar­i­ous mo­ments when mak­ing fun of the ridicu­lous­ness and hypocrisy of Brazil­ian mid­dle class.

The Evil Dead (1981)

A fun splat­ter movie with tons of gore that make it so grue­some and fun­ny. It is cheesy, sil­ly and poor­ly made, with aw­ful act­ing and many film­ing and con­ti­nu­ity er­rors, but com­pen­sat­ed by an amaz­ing make-up and bizarre sense of hu­mor.

Evil Dead 2: Dead by Dawn (1987)

Not re­al­ly a se­quel but more a dif­fer­ent re­make of the first one with su­pe­ri­or spe­cial ef­fects and cam­era work, and it is def­i­nite­ly a lot fun­nier, with a more bizarre phys­i­cal hu­mor that in­cludes a squeal­ing pos­sessed hand and a hys­ter­i­cal Bruce Camp­bell steal­ing the scene.

Evil Dead (2013)

It seems like Al­varez did­n’t re­al­ly get what made the orig­i­nal Evil Dead movies so suc­cess­ful, and so he ba­si­cal­ly elim­i­nates the bizarre hu­mor that made them so much fun and now goes for a blood­bath of pure gore that is en­tire­ly de­riv­a­tive and re­lies on ridicu­lous cheap scares.

Evil Ge­nius: The True Sto­ry of Amer­i­ca’s Most Di­a­bol­i­cal Bank Heist (2018)

The full ti­tle of this minis­eries is a per­fect in­di­ca­tion of what you find here: a lot more sen­sa­tion­al­ism and spec­u­la­tion than true ev­i­dence and con­crete facts. I get it, the case has re­mained as in­con­clu­sive as it could get, but all this “he said she said” can be so damn frus­trat­ing.

Evi­ta (1996)

Even though the pro­tag­o­nist is a flawed, in­trigu­ing dem­a­gogue, this vi­su­al­ly stun­ning but tire­some (and over­sung) mu­si­cal makes it hard for us to care, giv­en how in­suf­fer­able most of the songs are (ex­cept for two or three), like near­ly every­thing made by An­drew Lloyd Web­ber.

Ex Machi­na (2015)

The di­rec­tion is a bit pre­dictable and the film goes on for a few min­utes past what should be its con­clu­sion (even though I like the last shot), but this is an in­tel­li­gent sci-fi that of­fers an amaz­ing pro­duc­tion de­sign, im­pres­sive vi­su­al ef­fects and great food for thought.

Exam (2009)

Al­though it be­gins quite well, Exam is too un­o­rig­i­nal and only draws in­evitable com­par­isons to The Ap­pren­tice and films like Cube and The Method. How­ev­er, the real prob­lem is how point­less the sto­ry re­al­ly is, in­clud­ing a frus­trat­ing end­ing.

eX­is­tenZ (1999)

Built on a grip­ping at­mos­phere of mys­tery, this is an in­trigu­ing sci-fi thriller that pulls us deep­er and deep­er into a high­ly strange uni­verse that leaves us al­ways cu­ri­ous to know more about — even if af­ter a while it does­n’t take us much to see where it is go­ing.

Exit Through the Gift Shop (2010)

A fas­ci­nat­ing doc­u­men­tary about an ec­cen­tric guy who de­cid­ed to film the work of street artists — which could im­mor­tal­ize their ephemer­al art -, and it is not only the record of a move­ment but an amus­ing char­ac­ter study that also makes us ques­tion the na­ture and val­ue of Art it­self.

Ex­o­dus (1960)

A won­der­ful epic that boasts one of the most beau­ti­ful scores in the his­to­ry of Cin­e­ma, a gor­geous cin­e­matog­ra­phy that makes the best use of its lo­ca­tions, fan­tas­tic per­for­mances (Sal Mi­neo is the high­light) and an in­cred­i­bly well-writ­ten script that still feels rel­e­vant to­day in its mes­sage in fa­vor of peace.

Ex­o­dus: Gods and Kings (2014)

An­oth­er ma­jor Bib­li­cal epic with daz­zling vi­su­als re­leased in 2014, and like Dar­ren Aronof­sky’s Noah it also un­der­stands that the God de­pict­ed in the Old Tes­ta­ment is, well, a cru­el and sadis­tic mur­der­er, only this time Moses fol­lows the op­po­site path, from re­luc­tant to be­lieve to re­li­gious fa­nat­ic.

The Ex­or­cist (1973)

Ex­quis­ite­ly di­rect­ed and with great act­ing, this is a true clas­sic that dri­ves its char­ac­ters into a gen­uine state of pure ter­ror in the pres­ence of un­speak­able Evil and scared the hell out of au­di­ences when it was re­leased — some­thing that will be more dif­fi­cult to hap­pen to­day.

The Ex­pend­ables (2010)

The idea of hav­ing these stars to­geth­er is of course ap­peal­ing, up­dat­ing the ’80s to mod­ern times, but the for­mu­la­ic ac­tion scenes are nev­er en­ter­tain­ing enough to jus­ti­fy this. Be­sides, the di­a­logue is so painful and none of the stu­pid jokes ever works.

The Ex­pend­ables 2 (2012)

You get what you ex­pect: a brain­less ac­tion flick with lousy di­a­logue, un­fun­ny jokes, bor­ing char­ac­ter in­ter­ac­tion that makes you long for the ex­plo­sions and an epilep­tic cam­era that makes it al­most im­pos­si­ble to fol­low the fight­ing scenes. Yet also fun­ny and with Chuck Nor­ris!

The Ex­per­i­ment (2010)

A stu­pid movie about a psy­cho­log­i­cal ex­per­i­ment that makes no sense. The men in the role of pris­on­ers are a bunch of im­be­ciles in every way imag­in­able and the ones play­ing guards are sick so­ciopaths, so what is the point here? Even worse is the ter­ri­ble end­ing.

Ex­per­i­menter (2015)

The styl­ized di­rec­tion is some­times un­nec­es­sar­i­ly dis­tract­ing (even though the break­ing of the fourth wall does work) and in some oc­ca­sions the nar­ra­tive seems to di­gress, but still this is a com­pelling ac­count of a fas­ci­nat­ing ex­per­i­ment that says a lot about hu­man na­ture.

The Ex­ter­mi­nat­ing An­gel (1962)

Buñuel clear­ly re­fus­es to be sub­tle in this sharp al­le­gor­i­cal satire (and be­cause of that I only wish he had gone even fur­ther and em­braced in­san­i­ty and chaos all the way), us­ing an ab­surd and quite in­ge­nious idea to give a well-de­served slap on bour­geois val­ues and hypocrisy.

Ex­treme­ly Loud & In­cred­i­bly Close (2011)

This over­ly sen­ti­men­tal dra­ma could have been gen­uine­ly mov­ing but gets ru­ined by ter­ri­ble nar­ra­tive choic­es, re­main­ing not only in­fu­ri­at­ing­ly ma­nip­u­la­tive, giv­en its ex­ploita­tive mat­ter, but also with an ex­treme­ly ob­nox­ious pro­tag­o­nist that push­es our pa­tience to the lim­it.

Ex­treme­ly Wicked, Shock­ing­ly Evil and Vile (2019)

It is bet­ter to just watch four hours of the Net­flix Ted Bundy tapes doc­u­men­tary than this aw­ful­ly mediocre fic­tion­al­iza­tion that is so rushed it feels like a long re­cap of some sort, full of soap opera clichés and nev­er car­ing to dive deep into any­thing per­tain­ing to the case.

Eyes Wide Open (2009)

A sim­ple, pow­er­ful and in­tense Is­raeli dra­ma about de­sire ver­sus re­li­gious faith in Jerusalem, pre­sent­ing an ex­treme­ly en­gag­ing for­bid­den love sto­ry be­tween two or­tho­dox Jew­ish men whose pro­found feel­ings for each oth­er grow in­cred­i­bly real.

Eyes Wide Shut (1999)

A slow-burn­ing Kubrick­ian ex­plo­ration of ex­tra­mar­i­tal sex­u­al de­sire and jeal­ousy full of sym­bol­ism, and it throws us to­geth­er with the char­ac­ters in a night­mar­ish odyssey high­light­ed by a ter­rif­ic game of col­ors us­ing blue and red to sug­gest men­ace and un­con­scious sex im­puls­es.

Eyes With­out a Face (1960)

With a haunt­ing score and a dis­turb­ing plot, this film can be quite an­guish­ing some­times, es­pe­cial­ly in an in­fa­mous het­ero­graft­ing op­er­a­tion scene, work­ing pret­ty well de­spite its flaws (like the po­lice com­ing up with a stu­pid plan that makes no sense once you think about it).