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Face (2009)

I don’t know how au­to­bi­o­graph­i­cal this film is, only that Tsai makes it as some sort of self-re­flex­ive ex­per­i­ment (which does­n’t ac­tu­al­ly suit him) that probes into his mind and cre­ative process at the ex­pense of any clear struc­ture but has some mo­ments of po­et­ic beau­ty.

The Face of an An­gel (2014)

I see where Win­ter­bot­tom and screen­writer Paul Vi­ragh want to go with this film — I get the point and I ad­mire them for push­ing the en­ve­lope like this -, but it is hard to shake the feel­ing that their many un­ripe ideas re­sult in a sort of mixed bag that is not en­tire­ly sat­is­fy­ing.

Face to Face (1967)

Sol­li­ma’s fol­low­ing film af­ter his out­stand­ing The Big Gun­down is this grip­ping West­ern that fea­tures Mil­ian and Volon­té as two very dif­fer­ent men who start to be­come like each oth­er — even though Volon­té’s char­ac­ter seems to change too fast and not in a very con­vinc­ing way.

Faces Places (2017)

It is won­der­ful to see a liv­ing leg­end like Ag­nès Var­da still so full of en­er­gy and open to cre­ative ex­pres­sion along­side an­oth­er artist whose work and style are so dif­fer­ent from hers, and it is from this re­fresh­ing com­bi­na­tion that such a re­veal­ing and touch­ing doc­u­men­tary comes to life.

Fad­ing Gigo­lo (2013)

De­spite its good mo­ments — and there re­al­ly are a hand­ful of them, large­ly thanks to the pres­ence of Woody Allen in it -, this com­e­dy is so harm­less in many ways that its sweet mes­sage about lone­li­ness and con­nec­tion gets even di­lut­ed by how per­func­to­ry the plot is.

Fahren­heit 451 (1966)

Trans­posed to the screen by Truf­faut and with an evoca­tive score by Bernard Her­rmann, Ray Brad­bury’s ter­ri­fy­ing idea of a fu­ture is a bril­liant al­le­go­ry that re­mains in­tel­li­gent and per­ti­nent even to­day, when books may not be de­stroyed but are scorned by peo­ple.

Fahren­heit 9/11 (2004)

At the risk of mak­ing his film sound too preachy, Michael Moore ex­am­ines with a lot of sar­don­ic hu­mor the caus­es be­hind one of the most shame­ful chap­ters in re­cent Amer­i­can his­to­ry, cre­at­ing an in­sight­ful and well-edit­ed doc­u­men­tary that should be seen by every­one.

Fahren­heit 11/9 (2018)

You may say that Moore di­gress­es try­ing to talk about a good too many things, but the re­sult is like a last chap­ter in a tril­o­gy that be­gan with Columbine and Fahren­heit 9/11, wrap­ping up its the­sis in a dev­as­tat­ing (and un­der­stand­ably des­per­ate) wake-up cry to a coun­try that is be­ing burnt alive.

Fair Game (2010)

A com­pelling and well-writ­ten po­lit­i­cal dra­ma based on an out­rag­ing, shock­ing real sto­ry, and the most in­ter­est­ing is to see how the whole sit­u­a­tion deeply af­fects the re­la­tion­ship be­tween the char­ac­ters, who are played so su­perbly well by Nao­mi Watts and Sean Penn.

Fairy­Tale: A True Sto­ry (1997)

All that this pa­thet­ic and in­cred­i­bly sil­ly movie wants is to be cute, and so it shies away from the truth with a ridicu­lous jus­ti­fi­ca­tion that more im­por­tant than re­al­i­ty is “mag­ic” — even if com­ing from a de­ceiv­ing fraud that sup­pos­ed­ly brings com­fort to peo­ple. Truth is, it is not.

The Fall (2006)

Aes­thet­i­cal­ly stun­ning, with a won­der­ful cin­e­matog­ra­phy and pro­duc­tion de­sign, this is a high­ly imag­i­na­tive and am­bi­tious (yet also cer­tain­ly self-in­dul­gent) film about love, and it is im­pos­si­ble not to love lit­tle Cat­in­ca Un­taru, who could­n’t be any bet­ter or cuter, she is fan­tas­tic.

A Fall from Grace (2020)

This movie should have been named A Fall from In­tel­li­gence, as it looks like Tyler Per­ry can’t come up with any­thing re­mote­ly orig­i­nal or clever to say here, re­ly­ing on stu­pid char­ac­ters, corny di­a­logue, laugh­able sit­u­a­tions and sil­ly twists you usu­al­ly find in soap op­eras.

Fame (1980)

A de­light­ful and com­pelling dra­ma with a won­der­ful sound­track and a gallery of char­ac­ters that we re­al­ly learn to care about, and the best is to see that it is told so flu­id­ly in loose­ly or­ga­nized frag­ments and nev­er los­es its pac­ing thanks to the great edit­ing.

Fame (2009)

An un­der­rat­ed re­make of a great film with new char­ac­ters deal­ing with per­son­al con­flicts and fol­low­ing their dream to be­come a fa­mous star, and while the first hour is en­gag­ing, I am glad that the film does­n’t get ru­ined by that lame Broad­way-like end­ing.

Fam­i­ly Nest (1979)

In his fea­ture de­but, Béla Tarr of­fers an un­com­fort­able look into com­mu­nist Hun­gary us­ing the Bu­dapest school style of cin­e­ma ver­ité and a cam­era that glides al­most in­vis­i­ble among the non-pro­fes­sion­al ac­tors, but it be­comes a bit rep­e­ti­tious in the last half hour with a few re­dun­dant mono­logues.

Fan­do & Lis (1968)

It is in­ter­est­ing to see how Jodor­owsky want­ed to push the cin­e­mat­ic en­ve­lope with this provoca­tive sur­re­al­ist film of strik­ing vi­su­als — a film which, how­ev­er no­tice­ably am­a­teur­ish and flawed, al­ready showed he was an artist full of ideas and promis­ing tal­ent.

O Fan­tas­ma (2000)

Dark­ly sen­su­al and raw, O Fan­tas­ma is most dar­ing when re­fus­ing to fol­low a well-de­fined struc­ture, be­com­ing a se­ries of ni­hilis­tic mo­ments that ex­plore the de­press­ing empti­ness of an an­i­mal­is­tic life yet frus­trat­ing­ly los­ing any sense of di­rec­tion to­wards its end.

Fan­tas­tic Beasts and Where to Find Them (2016)

It is al­ways a plea­sure to re­turn to this uni­verse full of won­ders and fan­tas­tic be­ings con­ceived by J. K. Rowl­ing, who daz­zles us once again with her usu­al as­ton­ish­ing imag­i­na­tion and a de­light­ful ad­ven­ture that also works as an­oth­er in­tel­li­gent al­le­go­ry about prej­u­dice and ac­cep­tance.

Fan­tas­tic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindel­wald (2018)

Even though the plot is less co­he­sive than in the first movie (and Yates’s di­rec­tion more chaot­ic than it had the right to be), this se­quel has ur­gency and could­n’t be more rel­e­vant in times when se­duc­tive au­thor­i­tar­i­ans in­cite vi­o­lence while shift­ing the blame to the op­pressed.

Fan­tas­tic Mr. Fox (2009)

A vi­su­al­ly stun­ning an­i­ma­tion that daz­zles us at every sec­ond es­pe­cial­ly as we see the amaz­ing at­ten­tion that it pays to its small­est de­tails, and the re­sult is a de­light­ful fun for all ages with a clever, wit­ty plot, great voic­ing and Wes An­der­son­’s trade­mark sense of hu­mor.

Fan­tas­tic Plan­et (1973)

A sil­ly and ster­ile an­i­ma­tion that be­lieves to be much smarter than it is (even the word­plays Oms and Terr are ob­vi­ous), not to men­tion that it is vi­su­al­ly and au­di­bly dat­ed (the mu­sic is aw­ful) and con­stant­ly los­es fo­cus with too much un­nec­es­sary de­tail­ing about the wild life in Ygam.

A Fan­tas­tic Woman (2017)

Se­bastián Le­lio is be­com­ing now one of my fa­vorite di­rec­tors, and Daniela Vega de­liv­ers a mag­nif­i­cent per­for­mance in this com­plex and en­rag­ing dra­ma that makes us share all the suf­fer­ing and hu­mil­i­a­tion that the char­ac­ter is put through by so many peo­ple around her.

Far from Heav­en (2002)

Em­u­lat­ing with per­fec­tion the style of Dou­glas Sirk’s melo­dra­mas from the 1950s and with a gor­geous cin­e­matog­ra­phy, Todd Haynes re­lies on two splen­did per­for­mances by Ju­lianne Moore and Den­nis Quaid to make a pow­er­ful and still rel­e­vant state­ment on in­tol­er­ance.

Far from Men (2014)

A care­ful and slow-burn­ing dra­ma that knows how to won­der­ful­ly ex­plore the des­o­late land­scapes of the Al­ger­ian desert and has an in­tense Vig­go Mortensen at the cen­ter of a nar­ra­tive that sur­pris­es us as we re­al­ize in the end how in­volved we have be­come with its char­ac­ters.

Far from the Madding Crowd (1967)

A very faith­ful adap­ta­tion that may not be a mem­o­rable clas­sic but trans­lates well the essence of Hardy’s nov­el into a con­cise nar­ra­tive that ben­e­fits from a uni­form­ly per­fect cast and takes its time to tell what it needs with­out rush, de­spite the rather hasty end­ing.

Far from the Madding Crowd (2015)

Vin­ter­berg tones down the melo­dra­ma of Hardy’s pas­toral nov­el to make a more sober adap­ta­tion but miss­es the in­ten­si­ty of the pro­tag­o­nist’s mis­ery — which is not only a fault of his off-putting di­rec­tion but also be­cause Carey Mul­li­gan is clear­ly mis­cast in the role.

Farewell (2014)

It is easy to mis­read this sto­ry as a male fan­ta­sy about a very old, frag­ile man bang­ing a hot young brunette, but the film is in fact a del­i­cate por­tray­al of how sad it can be to re­main ful­ly lu­cid while your body falls apart, and it is el­e­vat­ed by a beau­ti­ful per­for­mance from Nel­son Xavier.

Farewell, My Queen (2012)

With many in­el­e­gant zooms and clum­sy cam­era move­ments, this ir­reg­u­lar dra­ma also fails to de­vel­op Sidonie’s de­vo­tion to the Queen, and so their trust re­la­tion­ship feels forced and rushed. Still, the sto­ry cre­ates some good ten­sion fol­low­ing a fic­tion­al char­ac­ter of un­cer­tain fate.

Farewell to the Night (2019)

Even though it looks tech­ni­cal­ly cheap and does­n’t go deep enough into Alex and Lila’s mo­ti­va­tions as it per­haps should, this is a bal­anced dra­ma that does a sol­id job try­ing to ex­am­ine the ori­gins of re­li­gious ex­trem­ism with­out re­ly­ing on sim­plis­tic an­swers or easy res­o­lu­tions.

Fash­ion­ista (2016)

It is rep­e­ti­tious some­times and feels a bit lost af­ter a while with­out know­ing ex­act­ly where to go (and its un­nec­es­sar­i­ly frag­ment­ed struc­ture is more dis­tract­ing than any­thing else), but still this is an in­ter­est­ing film about jeal­ousy and has good per­for­mances.

Fass­binder: To Love With­out De­mands (2015)

Though some may find strange that Han­nah Schygul­la is only briefly men­tioned, this is a very in­ter­est­ing doc­u­men­tary made with love about one of the most im­por­tant and pro­lif­ic di­rec­tors of all time, and it fo­cus­es most­ly on his fan­tas­tic body of work, themes and ap­proach.

The Fault in Our Stars (2014)

A bit­ter­sweet and oc­ca­sion­al­ly hon­est lit­tle ro­mance that fal­ters try­ing too hard to be cute (Hazel and Au­gus­tus, se­ri­ous­ly?) and is rid­den with too much sap­pi­ness. Still, it’s the ex­treme­ly adorable (and sur­pris­ing­ly tal­ent­ed) leads who com­pen­sate for the movie’s clichés.

Fault­less (2016)

A dif­fi­cult, un­com­fort­able and pre­dictable thriller that forces us to be in the com­pa­ny of hu­man garbage (which is what the pro­tag­o­nist is), but it is hard to fig­ure out what the film is try­ing to do — are we sup­posed to have any sort of sym­pa­thy (or pity) for this woman or just fear?

Faults (2014)

In­tel­li­gent and grip­ping, the kind of well-con­struct­ed char­ac­ter study that keeps us al­ways in­trigued try­ing to fig­ure out who is re­al­ly in con­trol of the sit­u­a­tion, and it has two ex­cel­lent per­for­mances to hold it all to­geth­er as it shows the im­pris­on­ing in­flu­ence of be­liefs on a weak mind.

The Favourite (2018)

A stinky mud of baroque mal­ice, roy­al in­de­cen­cy and twist­ed in­trigue makes this a de­li­cious­ly di­a­bol­i­cal pe­ri­od dram­e­dy that may be more ground­ed in re­al­i­ty than Lan­thi­mos’s pre­vi­ous films and yet feels like a bizarre ver­sion of All About Eve, had it been penned by a per­verse Jane Austen.

The Fear of 13 (2015)

A mov­ing, sur­pris­ing and com­pelling film in so many ways, and Nick Yarris has an in­cred­i­ble lit­er­ary elo­quence that makes every­thing he says sound fas­ci­nat­ing (or fake even, to be hon­est), while the film is smart to just let him talk through­out with­out any sort of in­ter­fer­ence.

Félix & Meira (2014)

It must be a sign that a film is not work­ing when you wish to know more about a two-di­men­sion­al sup­port­ing char­ac­ter (Meira’s hus­band) than about the two main ones, who are as dull as the ar­ti­fi­cial di­a­logue and the te­dious dy­nam­ics be­tween them — and the film only goes into high gear with thir­ty min­utes left to end.

Felli­ni — Satyri­con (1969)

Af­ter Juli­et of the Spir­its, Felli­ni de­cid­ed to push the col­or­ful en­ve­lope even fur­ther with this daz­zling, sur­re­al­is­tic ver­sion of An­cient Rome filled with greed, de­prav­i­ty and he­do­nism, but the big prob­lem is that this dis­joint­ed, plot­less film does­n’t seem to know what it wants to say.

Fellini’s Casano­va (1976)

Nev­er had a Felli­ni film looked so in­cred­i­bly stun­ning as this gor­geous pe­ri­od drama/character study that, even though a bit over­long, has the kind of episod­ic struc­ture typ­i­cal of Felli­ni but all the more suit­able here for a sto­ry about a piti­ful man who goes from one bed ad­ven­ture to the next in his ster­ile life.

Fellini’s Roma (1972)

Felli­ni con­tin­ues to ex­per­i­ment with the lim­its of struc­ture and lan­guage af­ter his pre­vi­ous films, this time to take a sharp, episod­ic and hu­mor­ous look at the Rome of his youth, the Rome of then and his am­biva­lent feel­ings for this city (or his idea of it) that he seems to love and hate.

Fe­male Trou­ble (1974)

While this re­volt­ing film is dar­ing, fun­ny and provoca­tive for quite some time, soon it be­comes in­suf­fer­able with a bunch of peo­ple shriek­ing around with­out end and yelling at each oth­er for much longer than our pa­tience can take (hell, of course, this is John Wa­ters).

Fer­di­nand (2017)

An­oth­er for­mu­la­ic an­i­ma­tion by Car­los Sal­dan­ha, who tries too hard to make some­thing fun for the whole fam­i­ly but does­n’t seem to re­al­ize how for­get­table this is, with sil­ly Ger­man hors­es, end­less chas­es and pedes­tri­an jokes that rely most­ly on Fer­di­nand be­ing big and clum­sy.

A Few Hours of Spring (2012)

Ex­cept for one cathar­tic scene at the end, this bleak and sleep-in­duc­ing film feels like an emp­ty ex­er­cise in silent re­sent­ment, as it tries the very op­po­site of any oth­er fam­i­ly dra­ma and is cen­tered on two mis­er­able hu­man be­ings who nev­er talk through their is­sues.

Field of Dreams (1989)

The truest de­f­i­n­i­tion of a mag­i­cal film, with great per­for­mances, one of the most beau­ti­ful scores I can re­mem­ber and a touch­ing nar­ra­tive that is not about base­ball as it is about go­ing the dis­tance and mak­ing amends with the past — and the end­ing is sim­ply won­der­ful.

The 15:17 to Paris (2018)

An in­ept­ly-writ­ten movie that does­n’t know how to build mo­men­tum and can­not find a good rea­son to jus­ti­fy us watch­ing the lives of these three peo­ple ever since they were kids, be­com­ing only dull as we fol­low them in every sin­gle step of their trip un­til they fi­nal­ly get to the train.

The Fifth El­e­ment (1997)

There is some­thing amus­ing about the way it em­braces camp but Besson cross­es the line into goofy, ridicu­lous flam­boy­ance with an in­suf­fer­able Chris Tuck­er, an over-the-top Gary Old­man over­act­ing in­sane­ly and a re­al­ly pre­pos­ter­ous plot that makes im­pos­si­ble any sus­pen­sion of dis­be­lief.

The Fifth Es­tate (2013)

An ab­solute­ly con­temptible, preachy and mis­guid­ed film in every way pos­si­ble, clear­ly made to cru­ci­fy As­sange as a self­ish bas­tard in­stead of cre­at­ing a com­plex char­ac­ter study — and it only gets worse when it tries to make us be­lieve that it’s let­ting us de­cide who is right.

54 (1998)

It is hard to be­lieve that they man­aged to make a movie about glam­our and mu­sic (with a great sound­track) into some­thing so un­in­ter­est­ing and va­pid — to the point that ask our­selves why we should care or why these poor­ly-de­vel­oped char­ac­ters would even con­sid­er each oth­er friends. (The­atri­cal ver­sion)

Fifty Shades of Grey (2015)

An in­fi­nite­ly more sex­ist ver­sion of Twi­light, only with BDSM (or the ridicu­lous, twist­ed idea that E. L. James has of it) in lieu of vam­pirism but, of course, with an­oth­er low-self-es­teem “hero­ine” and a gor­geous, dom­i­neer­ing and over­con­trol­ling stalk­er as her phal­lic ob­ject of de­sire.

Fight Club (1999)

Fight Club rep­re­sents the des­per­ate cry of the con­sumerist mod­ern man for some­thing to end his anx­i­ety and con­formism — which takes shape as a bru­tal an­ar­chy of re­li­gious echoes -, and this is a dan­ger­ous movie whose bril­liant, pow­er­ful state­ment may not be ful­ly grasped by a main­stream au­di­ence.

The Fight­er (2010)

It is al­ways a plea­sure to see a sin­cere dra­ma that does­n’t give in to cheap clichés or easy melo­dra­ma but is in­stead a com­pelling film that sim­ply re­lies on the pow­er of a true sto­ry and the strength of an al­to­geth­er per­fect en­sem­ble cast.

Filme Demên­cia (1986)

Trans­pos­ing the myth of Faust to post-dic­ta­tor­ship Brazil, this is a fas­ci­nat­ing jour­ney of self-dis­cov­ery made by a di­rec­tor in to­tal con­trol of his lan­guage and what he wants to say — and I only wish the film were longer and did­n’t end right when I was be­gin­ning to like it even more.

Filth (2013)

James McAvoy’s out­stand­ing per­for­mance is what lifts this al­ways in­trigu­ing dark com­e­dy above its mi­nor flaws — main­ly the dis­crep­an­cy in tone that starts to be­come more and more ev­i­dent as the char­ac­ter sinks fur­ther into a too se­ri­ous state of psy­chosis.

Fi­nal Cut: Ladies and Gen­tle­men (2012)

A de­c­la­ra­tion of love to Cin­e­ma made by a true afi­ciona­do — and a must-see for all cinephiles in the world. Pál­fi takes the most triv­ial and cliched sto­ry of all and retells it us­ing ex­cerpts from 450 films to cre­ate some­thing su­perbly edit­ed and ex­tra­or­di­nary.

Fi­nal Des­ti­na­tion (2000)

Glen Mor­gan and James Wong, two of the best X‑Files writ­ers, did a fan­tas­tic job in this ex­cel­lent, clever and orig­i­nal teen hor­ror movie that has an in­trigu­ing premise and knows how to build gen­uine ten­sion, es­pe­cial­ly in the nerve-wrack­ing se­quence that opens it.

Fi­nal Des­ti­na­tion 2 (2003)

This se­quel de­serves cred­it for its spec­tac­u­lar first se­quence, which is re­al­ly tense and well made. What fol­lows, though, is more tongue-in-cheek, mak­ing fun of Death’s in­ge­nious traps and with an in­trigu­ing idea about how the plot is in­flu­enced by the events of the first film.

Fi­nal Des­ti­na­tion 3 (2006)

Mor­gan and Wong are back for this third film, only with no orig­i­nal­i­ty. Every­thing here is a re­hash of the first in­stall­ment, pre­dictable and gory, with a roller coast­er ac­ci­dent in­stead of an air­plane. The tone aims for se­ri­ous­ness but with poor di­a­logue and an end that is dull and stu­pid.

The Fi­nal Des­ti­na­tion (2009)

More of the same for the ump­ti­eth time. The char­ac­ters are un­in­ter­est­ing in a plot that fol­lows a for­mu­la, but the worst is that we are al­ways ahead of them. It gets bor­ing to see them learn­ing of Death’s de­sign when we all know the rules, only not the laugh­able ways they are each go­ing to die.

Find­ing Dory (2016)

This av­er­age se­quel came only thir­teen years too late, and it does lack a bit in terms of orig­i­nal­i­ty (es­pe­cial­ly since we are talk­ing about Pixar), but at least it is en­ter­tain­ing and vi­su­al­ly fan­tas­tic like what we have come to ex­pect from the stu­dio in terms of first-rate an­i­ma­tion.

Find­ing Vi­vian Maier (2013)

An ab­sorb­ing and well edit­ed doc­u­men­tary that un­veils the life of this se­cre­tive and in­cred­i­bly tal­ent­ed woman in an at­tempt to find out who she was, rais­ing in the process in­evitable ques­tions about some­one’s right (or lack there­of) to ex­pose the work of some­one who died.

Fire in the Sky (1993)

Only two years be­fore Tra­cy Tor­mé cre­at­ed my beloved TV show Slid­ers, he wrote the script for this in­trigu­ing movie (based on an al­leged real-life sto­ry) that may be rather con­ven­tion­al in terms of struc­ture but has one key scene in its third act that can be pret­ty scary.

The Fire­men’s Ball (1967)

Banned from Czecho­slo­va­kia for be­ing un­der­stood as a satire that open­ly mocked the he­roes of the Com­mu­nist regime (the peo­ple), Mi­los For­man’s first film in col­or is this hi­lar­i­ous sto­ry made by a tal­ent­ed film­mak­er who did know his way with an un­pre­ten­tious dark com­e­dy.

Fire­proof (2008)

I ob­vi­ous­ly don’t be­long to the tar­get au­di­ence of this mor­al­iz­ing, pro-mar­riage piece of Chris­t­ian pro­pa­gan­da, but noth­ing can ex­cuse it for be­ing so aw­ful­ly schmaltzy, pre­dictable, sex­ist and poor­ly made, preach­ing to the con­vert­ed and mak­ing every­one else cringe in pain.

Firestarter (1984)

De­spite the nice spe­cial ef­fects and mu­si­cal score, this is more a mere ex­cuse for py­rotech­nics in­stead of a sto­ry made to of­fer us any­thing close to real dra­ma or char­ac­ter de­vel­op­ment, and it does­n’t even un­der­stand the char­ac­ter’s pow­er enough to make it con­sis­tent.

First Man (2018)

Re­ly­ing on a beau­ti­ful score, an amaz­ing tech­nol­o­gy and an in­tel­li­gent di­rec­tion that em­pha­sizes the character’s lack of any­thing to an­chor him in his life, this is a poignant char­ac­ter study about a man who wants to iso­late him­self not only from his fam­i­ly but from the rest of the world.

First Re­formed (2017)

With a for­mal rig­or that re­flects the pro­tag­o­nist’s in­ter­nal strug­gle and the aus­tere life he chose to lead, Schrader’s film re­mind­ed me of In­g­mar Bergman’s Win­ter Light, in which a Chris­t­ian priest also had his faith shak­en by de­spair — a de­spair so in­tense we can feel it across the screen.

Fish Tank (2009)

Even though not re­al­ly orig­i­nal or in­sight­ful, the win­ner of the Cannes Jury Prize in 2009 is a re­al­is­tic and deeply sad British com­ing-of-age dra­ma that re­lies on two ter­rif­ic per­for­mances by Katie Jarvis and Michael Fass­ben­der.

Fitz­car­ral­do (1982)

Fitz­car­ral­do be­comes an al­ter ego for Her­zog, whose mega­lo­ma­ni­a­cal am­bi­tion is just as mad­den­ing in a per­fect ex­am­ple of life im­i­tat­ing art (or vice ver­sa), and this is both a haunt­ing sto­ry of man vs na­ture and a mag­nif­i­cent dis­play of film­mak­ing ac­com­plish­ment in every sense imag­in­able.

Five (2003)

The kind of im­mer­sive con­tem­pla­tion (and homage) more akin to video art than an ac­tu­al sort of nar­ra­tive, but I re­al­ly like how it pro­duces a calm­ing, sooth­ing ef­fect (like a fire­place) and would pro­vide great am­bi­ence in the back­ground of any liv­ing room.

5 Bro­ken Cam­eras (2011)

A Pales­tin­ian peas­ant teamed up with an Is­raeli di­rec­tor to de­liv­er this re­mark­able and mov­ing work of his­tor­i­cal im­por­tance that ex­pos­es the out­ra­geous sit­u­a­tion of abu­sive op­pres­sion by in­vad­ing Is­raeli forces in the West Bank vil­lage of Bil’in.

(500) Days of Sum­mer (2009)

De­spite its clever idea, this un­fun­ny ro­man­tic com­e­dy full of clichés is cen­tered on an an­noy­ing, un­in­ter­est­ing cou­ple who nev­er con­vinces us of what they feel — and it is al­most im­pos­si­ble to un­der­stand how any­one would fall in love with Zooey De­schanel’s de­testable char­ac­ter.

A Five Star Life (2013)

On a su­per­fi­cial lev­el, it is easy to like a film that has such an en­joy­able sense of hu­mor and a sol­id per­for­mance by Margheri­ta Buy, but soon it be­comes clear that the plot is flat as a self-help book, with a sim­plis­tic end­ing that lacks any of the depth it thinks it has.

The Five-Year En­gage­ment (2012)

Like Stoller’s pre­vi­ous movies, this per­cep­tive ro­man­tic com­e­dy is less about the laughs (they are there, only timid­ly) than ac­tu­al­ly of­fer­ing a keen and com­plex look into mod­ern re­la­tion­ships, and it could have been even bet­ter if not for a long mid­dle act, un­even in tone and pac­ing.

Flash­dance (1983)

Beals has tal­ent and charis­ma but she can­not save a pa­per-thin plot (full of un­nec­es­sary scenes and sec­ondary char­ac­ters) that is only an ex­cuse for a long se­ries of mu­sic video scenes, and the up­beat last dance scene is only there to leave us with a sat­is­fied heart.

The Flat (2011)

What makes this doc­u­men­tary so re­veal­ing and in­trigu­ing is not so much the mys­tery that Goldfin­ger tries to un­cov­er or its shock­ing im­pli­ca­tions but all the col­lec­tive propen­si­ty of sec­ond-gen­er­a­tion Jews and Ger­mans to close their eyes and leave the past and se­crets be­hind.

Flat­lin­ers (2017)

A lazy, unin­spired and down­right stu­pid re­make that over­looks near­ly every­thing that made the orig­i­nal film clever and ef­fec­tive, try­ing too hard to be more like a hor­ror movie (but fail­ing ridicu­lous­ly) and not bring­ing any­thing re­mote­ly clever or new to the pot.

Flight (2012)

Den­zel Wash­ing­ton of­fers a strong per­for­mance in this un­sur­pris­ing char­ac­ter study that goes down­hill in clichés af­ter a thrilling be­gin­ning. Be­sides, it suf­fers from be­ing over­long and un­even in tone, with an ar­ti­fi­cial and un­con­vinc­ing re­demp­tive end­ing.

Flight of the Red Bal­loon (2007)

Hou’s first film out­side of Asia and his trib­ute to Lam­or­is­se’s Os­car-win­ning short is al­ways en­gag­ing and pleas­ant to watch, even when at times we have the im­pres­sion that it is drift­ing like the red bal­loon and its con­flicts don’t be­come as com­pelling as they could.

Flo­rence Fos­ter Jenk­ins (2016)

Stephen Frears has be­come an ex­pert in mak­ing for­get­table biopics in re­cent years, and so he gives us an­oth­er sil­ly and harm­less light dra­ma with comedic touch­es and a great per­for­mance by Meryl Streep, who steals the show like she al­ways does when star­ring in unim­pres­sive films.

The Flori­da Project (2017)

Fun­ny, touch­ing, heart­break­ing and sim­ply beau­ti­ful, Sean Bak­er’s fol­low-up to his great Tan­ger­ine is even bet­ter than that film and boasts the adorable Brook­lynn Prince in a won­der­ful per­for­mance that should have def­i­nite­ly earned her an Os­car (or at least a nom­i­na­tion).

Flow­ers of Shang­hai (1998)

A gor­geous-look­ing film with a beau­ti­ful art di­rec­tion and a cam­era that ap­pears to glide through the sump­tu­ous spaces and rooms of those four broth­els in 38 stun­ning long takes, mak­ing it feel al­most like a trav­el in time to the at­mos­pher­ic Shang­hai of the end of the 19th cen­tu­ry.

The Flow­ers of War (2011)

With as­ton­ish­ing vi­su­als and an im­pec­ca­ble sound de­sign, this com­pelling war film con­sti­tutes, how­ev­er, an oxy­moron of gor­geous ug­li­ness, cen­tered on a most hideous mas­sacre of His­to­ry whose re-cre­ation need­ed no styl­is­tic or­na­ments or ar­ti­fi­cial rev­e­la­tions.

Flu (2013)

Fran­tic like a Michael Bay movie, it quick­ly be­comes an­noy­ing with its fast-chopped edit­ing that bare­ly lets us see what is hap­pen­ing be­fore our eyes and a bunch of peo­ple run­ning around with­out end in the mid­dle of a mess. Not to men­tion the cheesy melo­dra­ma and po­lit­i­cal my­opia.

The Fly (1986)

Fans of body hor­ror and David Cro­nen­berg will have so much to love in this grue­some, tense and yet tremen­dous­ly heart­break­ing film that not only im­press­es with its mag­nif­i­cent Os­car-win­ning make­up but also un­der­stands that this should be about the char­ac­ters above every­thing else.

The Fog (1980)

A sim­ple but ef­fec­tive hor­ror movie with an at­mos­pher­ic score and some good scares even if the script is some­times il­log­i­cal and full of plot holes. Be­sides, it proves that show­ing dead peo­ple knock­ing on doors be­fore en­ter­ing can be re­al­ly scary (apart from hi­lar­i­ous).

Food, Inc. (2008)

We are what we eat, and this is an in­for­ma­tive doc­u­men­tary that ex­pos­es some dis­turb­ing — yet not ex­act­ly un­known — truths about the food in­dus­try in the USA and shows how vi­tal it is for peo­ple to start con­sum­ing natural/organic prod­ucts in or­der to live healthy lives.

Fool­ish Heart (1998)

Baben­co made this au­to­bi­o­graph­i­cal film only for him­self, since it has noth­ing that could make any­one else re­late to such a de­testable sto­ry that does­n’t man­age to de­vel­op any of its plot points and is all about a guy who is strange­ly in love with an in­suf­fer­able in­sane woman.

Foot­loose (1984)

Sure it does­n’t make much sense that the teenagers of this small town that has out­lawed danc­ing for five years could all dance so well, yet this is an en­joy­able film with a great sound­track and John Lith­gow as a char­ac­ter who is more com­plex than your typ­i­cal zealot an­tag­o­nist.

A Fond Kiss… (2004)

A mod­ern Romeo and Juli­et sto­ry di­rect­ed by Ken Loach. It may be a lit­tle soapy some­times but it is al­ways hon­est, told with sim­plic­i­ty and rais­ing some sol­id ques­tions about re­li­gious and cul­tur­al in­tol­er­ance.

For a Few Dol­lars More (1965)

This sec­ond film of Leone’s Dol­lar Tril­o­gy is a sig­nif­i­cant step up com­pared to the pre­vi­ous one, as he starts to pol­ish his styl­ish di­rec­tion and is helped by a great cast to cre­ate some of the most un­for­get­table scenes in the Spaghet­ti West­ern sub­genre.

For Love and Gold (1966)

I nev­er get tired of watch­ing this Ital­ian com­e­dy clas­sic that is so fun­ny and de­li­cious in every way pos­si­ble, with great per­for­mances — es­pe­cial­ly a price­less Vit­to­rio Gassman in the main role — and hi­lar­i­ous road movie sit­u­a­tions filled with dry hu­mor and sub­tle irony.

For Sama (2019)

I find the jumps in time a bit dis­tract­ing, and I would have pre­ferred to see every­thing here told more lin­ear­ly, but any­way this is a hard-hit­ting doc­u­men­tary that de­serves a lot of praise for ex­pos­ing to the world the atroc­i­ties com­mit­ted by As­sad and Rus­sia against help­less civil­ians in Alep­po.

For Your Con­sid­er­a­tion (2006)

Even with a run­ning time of around 80 min­utes, this large­ly im­pro­vised com­e­dy feels like a whole eter­ni­ty: not just ut­ter­ly un­fun­ny and all over the place with a plot that has no idea what it is do­ing, but also in­suf­fer­ably an­noy­ing with ridicu­lous jokes that are most­ly em­bar­rass­ing.

The For­bid­den Room (2015)

It works as a strange ob­ject of cu­rios­i­ty more than any­thing else — an emp­ty ex­er­cise of style that could have been at least amus­ing as a short movie but re­mains only over­done, im­pen­e­tra­ble and in­ter­minable as it is, and an in­suf­fer­able waste of time that does­n’t have any­thing to say.

Force Ma­jeure (2014)

An un­com­fort­able and dark­ly-hu­mored ex­am­i­na­tion of mas­culin­i­ty cen­tered on a fam­i­ly man who be­comes a pa­thet­ic cow­ard due to some hi­lar­i­ous cir­cum­stances while his wife hes­i­tates to deal with it — but the film does­n’t know how to end and lingers on for two or three scenes longer than it should.

Ford v Fer­rari (2019)

The rac­ing scenes are pret­ty ex­cit­ing — a mer­it es­pe­cial­ly of the film’s edit­ing, sound and also score — but I wish I had liked this more than I did, which I see as a fault of the for­mu­la­ic plot that even has trou­ble when try­ing to be mov­ing (the last ten min­utes of the film al­most made me cringe).

For­eign Cor­re­spon­dent (1940)

Amus­ing enough, with a great cin­e­matog­ra­phy and mem­o­rable set pieces, this is a pass­able film even with those ir­ri­tat­ing flaws that have be­come now the worst types of clichés, like a forced ro­mance and how no one be­lieves the main char­ac­ter and thinks he is crazy for no rea­son.

For­eign Land (1995)

A de­cent film that holds our at­ten­tion and keeps us al­ways in­ter­est­ed even if its at­tempt at be­ing a com­bi­na­tion of dra­ma, thriller and (forced) ro­mance is not that suc­cess­ful — not to men­tion how the char­ac­ters’ mo­ti­va­tions are fuzzy es­pe­cial­ly in its third act.

For­ev­er (2015)

Even if it deals with some­thing that is quite dis­turb­ing in it­self, the film is most­ly dull, with char­ac­ters that are more de­testable that any­thing else and a pro­tag­o­nist whose mo­ti­va­tions come off as in­con­sis­tent and ar­ti­fi­cial re­gard­ing what she be­lieves and wants for her­self.

For­get­ting Sarah Mar­shall (2008)

The per­fect ex­am­ple of a clever com­e­dy that made me laugh more in a silent way (on the in­side, if that is pos­si­ble) than out loud, while pulling me grad­u­al­ly into its sto­ry by how touch­ing it ac­tu­al­ly is, with a deeply hon­est nar­ra­tive and a ho­mo­ge­neous­ly great cast.

For­rest Gump (1994)

With a fine per­for­mance by Tom Han­ks, this is a re­fresh­ing feel-good movie that is al­ways fun and charm­ing, even if some­times sen­ti­men­tal and a bit vague about its pur­pose — and if you are able to over­look its flaws, you will find a cap­ti­vat­ing sto­ry of in­no­cence and op­ti­mism.

45 Years (2015)

A nu­anced and ma­ture sto­ry about ma­ture peo­ple, en­riched by two out­stand­ing per­for­mances from the main leads; still, it feels like the strength of the nar­ra­tive is di­lut­ed some­how by Haigh’s re­strained, schemat­ic di­rec­tion, es­pe­cial­ly in its silent mo­ments of in­tro­spec­tion.

42nd Street (1933)

With jokes that are dat­ed for to­day’s stan­dards and a sil­ly, un­con­vinc­ing plot that ba­si­cal­ly in­vent­ed the back­stage clichés, this mu­si­cal is worth it only for Bus­by Berke­ley’s spec­tac­u­lar chore­og­ra­phy and as­ton­ish­ing pro­duc­tion num­bers that could nev­er take place on a the­ater stage.

The 40 Year-Old Vir­gin (2005)

Steve Carell proves to be a re­al­ly tal­ent­ed and fun­ny ac­tor in his first main role on the big screen, and this is a sol­id com­e­dy that, even if a bit too long and struc­tured more as a se­ries of iso­lat­ed sketch­es, of­fers a lot of fun with its large­ly im­pro­vised lines and amus­ing per­for­mances.

Found Mem­o­ries (2011)

A con­tem­pla­tive work of in­tense nar­ra­tive and vi­su­al po­et­ry, us­ing a sim­ple yet strong­ly res­o­nant sto­ry to raise del­i­cate mus­ings about the tran­sience of life and the emo­tion­al pow­er of our mem­o­ries — how we per­ceive them and their im­por­tance as time pass­es and we age.

Four Days in Sep­tem­ber (1997)

It shows rev­o­lu­tion­ar­ies fight­ing a dic­ta­tor­ship as a bunch of con­fused am­a­teurs (I won­der how they don’t get killed af­ter halfway through), while also try­ing to hu­man­ize tor­tur­ers in a mud­dled plot that does­n’t re­al­ly know what to do with this sort of ma­te­r­i­al in its hands.

1408 (2007)

This could have been a smart psy­cho­log­i­cal hor­ror but in­stead feels ster­ile and point­less, miss­ing the chance to ex­plore the pos­si­bil­i­ties of its premise and the char­ac­ter’s is­sues. Be­sides, it be­comes repet­i­tive af­ter some time, even though John Cu­sack com­pen­sates with a strong per­for­mance.

The Fourth Kind (2009)

It is im­pos­si­ble to take this any se­ri­ous­ly, a stu­pid fic­tion­al film that in­sults the au­di­ence try­ing so hard to make you be­lieve that every­thing it tells is real — but the hoax is un­con­vinc­ing, the screen split­ting gim­mick is ridicu­lous and Mila Jovovich a ter­ri­ble ac­tress.

The Fourth Man (1983)

The sym­bol­ism is made a bit too ob­vi­ous (es­pe­cial­ly in a rather ex­pos­i­to­ry third act), but still it is hard to re­sist this styl­ish, sen­su­al and tech­ni­cal­ly splen­did thriller that makes some very nice use of col­ors and is al­ways in­trigu­ing in the way it blends re­al­i­ty and imag­i­na­tion.

Fox and His Friends (1975)

An­oth­er suc­cess­ful al­le­go­ry in which Fass­binder il­lus­trates again his main re­cur­rent theme of the ex­ploitabil­i­ty of feel­ings through a sharp and painful­ly sad sto­ry about how love can be used as a most ef­fi­cient in­stru­ment of ma­nip­u­la­tion, hu­mil­i­a­tion and re­pres­sion.

The Fox and the Hound (1981)

The an­i­ma­tion job is ex­cep­tion­al, but the songs are not that great and the sim­ple sto­ry, while sol­id, suf­fers a bit from the same prob­lems found in most of the movies made by the stu­dio in the 1970s, es­pe­cial­ly how it feels rather per­func­to­ry and wa­tered down for chil­dren.

Fox­catch­er (2014)

The true strength of this en­gross­ing dra­ma lies in its three cen­tral per­for­mances, and Steve Carell de­liv­ers a mag­nif­i­cent one — prob­a­bly his best to date — in a com­plex, en­gag­ing and well-di­rect­ed char­ac­ter study cen­tered on three clash­ing, mul­ti­lay­ered per­son­al­i­ties.

Frac­ture (2007)

An in­trigu­ing thriller that holds our at­ten­tion as it re­lies on the com­bined tal­ents of Hop­kins and Gosling, who are both amaz­ing in their roles, and it is great to see them du­el­ing in this smart mind con­fronta­tion, an above-av­er­age cat-and-mouse crime film.

Frances Ha (2012)

An ex­am­ple of a promis­ing Woody Allen-es­que sto­ry that has as its main char­ac­ter a woman so ab­solute­ly in­fan­tile that it be­comes very dif­fi­cult not to find her ir­ri­tat­ing (even if Gre­ta Ger­wig is def­i­nite­ly adorable). Be­sides, the film is not half as fun­ny as it be­lieves to be.

Frank (2014)

Fass­ben­der should be praised for the in­tel­li­gent way that he com­pos­es a whole fas­ci­nat­ing char­ac­ter whose face we can’t see, in an in­sight­ful film that is so well bal­anced be­tween com­e­dy and dra­ma, with ec­cen­tric char­ac­ters and an as­tute un­der­stand­ing of our need to be loved.

Franken­stein (1931)

A time­less clas­sic, per­haps the most no­table and in­flu­en­tial of the Uni­ver­sal mon­sters, and even if more amus­ing than ter­ri­fy­ing for to­day’s stan­dards, it re­mains a strik­ing ex­pe­ri­ence, with stun­ning vi­su­als that owe their in­spi­ra­tion to Ger­man Ex­pres­sion­ism.

Franken­wee­nie (2012)

Tim Bur­ton is cer­tain­ly not in a fruit­ful mo­ment of his ca­reer, mak­ing one de­riv­a­tive movie af­ter an­oth­er such as this one, a stop mo­tion an­i­ma­tion that is sup­posed to be a com­e­dy but is only sil­ly and un­fun­ny, with an unin­spired premise and a very un­in­ter­est­ing de­vel­op­ment.

Frankie (2019)

A waste of a great cast and more like a lame ex­cuse for a trav­el­ogue that forces us to be in the com­pa­ny of a bunch of in­sipid char­ac­ters. In short, this is an emp­ty film with noth­ing, un­less you en­joy stiff act­ing and life­less con­ver­sa­tions with­out end about most­ly triv­ial stuff.

Franklyn (2008)

Mc­Mor­row takes a bold shot in his di­rect­ing de­but, mak­ing an am­bi­tious film that has a very orig­i­nal idea, but the prob­lem is that the plot be­gins so com­plex and hard to un­der­stand that, by the time it reach­es one hour, it is al­ready too con­fus­ing for us to care.

Free Birds (2013)

A mediocre, run-of-the-mill an­i­ma­tion des­tined to be rapid­ly for­got­ten by every­one, not only for be­ing most­ly un­fun­ny and full of clichés but also be­cause it holds few to no sur­pris­es, mak­ing sure that every joke is ex­plained and leav­ing al­most noth­ing to our imag­i­na­tion.

Free Fall (2013)

Even if the ac­tors don’t al­ways man­age to do their best and some­times the plot goes for the need­less clichés of gay-themed movies, this dra­ma out­weighs its prob­lems with a sur­pris­ing chem­istry be­tween the leads and a sat­is­fy­ing con­clu­sion.

Free Solo (2018)

The most in­trigu­ing as­pect of this doc­u­men­tary for me is that there is some­thing al­most akin to an ‘ob­serv­er ef­fect’ in what we see here, as the pres­ence of the film crew does threat­en to af­fect the event they are record­ing and it be­comes ob­vi­ous for us too how all this can only end.

Fre­quen­cies (2013)

A very in­ter­est­ing and re­mark­ably in­tel­li­gent film of am­bi­tious ideas that is most­ly im­pres­sive due to its well-con­struct­ed plot and clever use of col­ors to as­so­ciate the char­ac­ters’ per­son­al­i­ties with their fre­quen­cy lev­els — red be­ing the low­est fre­quen­cy in the vis­i­ble spec­trum and pur­ple the high­est.

Fri­day (1995)

Ice Cube has no tal­ent as a writer (nor much as an ac­tor) but did find who would want to di­rect this crap­py ston­er com­e­dy that feels like the worst and most un­fun­ny sit­com ever, plagued with aw­ful ac­tors (Chris Tuck­er is un­bear­able), painful gags and stereo­types in­stead of char­ac­ters.

Fri­day the 13th (1980)

When you think that this is the first movie of the in­fa­mous long se­ries, it is hard to be­lieve that the one that start­ed it all is so aw­ful and slug­gish, and yet it did help shape the con­ven­tions of the slash­er sub­genre and at least has a good cin­e­matog­ra­phy and great make­up ef­fects.

Fri­day the 13th Part 2 (1981)

Af­ter a long re­cap of the first movie and im­pres­sive long takes in a tense open­ing scene, this equal­ly brain­less se­quel just fol­lows the for­mu­la of its pre­de­ces­sor — only with more fun gore -, help­ing de­fine the now well-known clichés of the genre in­clud­ing an in­de­struc­tible vil­lain.

Fri­day the 13th Part III (1982)

Ja­son gets his trade­mark hock­ey mask, the deaths are gori­er (de­spite the cuts to avoid an X rat­ing), the mu­sic is even worse than be­fore and there are cheap scares all over this stu­pid, over­whelm­ing­ly brain­less piece of junk that even copies the end of the first movie.

Fri­day the 13th: The Fi­nal Chap­ter (1984)

It is fun­ny to see how many times you can kill a (dead) man and yet he al­ways comes back, but this movie is way too laugh­ably stu­pid (at one point a guy even goes down into a base­ment for no oth­er rea­son than to get killed), filled with pa­per-thin char­ac­ters and atro­cious di­a­logue.

Fri­day the 13th: A New Be­gin­ning (1985)

Of course they would­n’t just kill the gold­en goose, so they nat­u­ral­ly had to came up with a sor­ry ex­cuse for a “new be­gin­ning,” but it is not even fun to watch when every­thing (and every­one) is so ex­treme­ly ir­ri­tat­ing, the script is pure garbage and the di­a­logue is aw­ful be­yond be­lief.

Ja­son Lives: Fri­day the 13th Part VI (1986)

It took five crap­py movies be­fore some­one fi­nal­ly re­al­ized that the only way to ex­tract any fun from this worn-out for­mu­la would be to make it ex­plic­it­ly campy, and so this is the best chap­ter of the se­ries, with a hi­lar­i­ous metahu­mor, wit­ty di­a­logue and even good per­for­mances.

Fri­day the 13th Part VII: The New Blood (1988)

De­spite an in­ter­est­ing premise in­volv­ing a tele­ki­net­ic woman, every­thing here seems to be on au­to­mat­ic pi­lot, with this be­ing just an­oth­er lazy, brain­less and colos­sal­ly aw­ful se­quel that has noth­ing of the clev­er­ness and wit found in the se­ries’ pre­vi­ous in­stall­ment.

Fri­day the 13th Part VIII: Ja­son Takes Man­hat­tan (1989)

Af­ter over one hour, Ja­son fi­nal­ly ar­rives in Man­hat­tan but does­n’t take shit, only mak­ing this an­oth­er dull and mis­er­ably aw­ful se­quel that feels like an eter­ni­ty, with unin­spired deaths, a bizarrely schiz­o­phrenic pro­tag­o­nist and a lu­di­crous plot even worse than the last.

Fri­day the 13th (2009)

Ob­vi­ous­ly, one goes into this movie ex­pect­ing a lot of grue­some deaths, huge breasts and a lot to laugh about, just like when watch­ing any oth­er chap­ter of this trashy, brain­less se­ries. But this re­make is nev­er scary, tense or any­thing be­sides a pre­dictable im­be­cil­i­ty.

Friends with Kids (2011)

It is frus­trat­ing to see this in­trigu­ing idea and a smart first half lead to a pre­dictable and mor­al­iz­ing mes­sage about love and the “im­por­tance of fam­i­ly” when it comes to hav­ing kids — some­thing so clichéd that it bogs down the whole po­ten­tial of its premise.

Fright Night (1985)

Fun­nier and more amus­ing­ly dis­gust­ing than ac­tu­al­ly scary, this de­cent lit­tle vam­pire hor­ror movie com­bines fright and hu­mor in a re­al­ly ef­fi­cient way, mak­ing for a very en­joy­able time de­spite — or maybe also be­cause of — its out­dat­ed make­up and looks from the 1980s.

From Be­gin­ning to End (2009)

One of the few qual­i­ties of this film is the lyri­cism of the silent shots (well pho­tographed by Ueli Steiger, who turned down Em­merich’s 2012 to be in this project), but it is im­pos­si­ble to over­look the corny di­a­logue, weak per­for­mances and lack of con­flict in this poor­ly-writ­ten sto­ry.

From Be­yond (1986)

It grows tense and mys­te­ri­ous with ex­cel­lent spe­cial ef­fects and make-up while al­ways hold­ing our in­ter­est, but in the last half-hour it goes com­plete­ly astray and over the top, los­ing its di­rec­tion and be­com­ing a hi­lar­i­ous mess with an in­sane cli­max.

From Here to Eter­ni­ty (1953)

The cam­era loves Mont­gomery Clift and his per­fect face, and he is ex­cep­tion­al as al­ways along with Lan­cast­er and Sina­tra, but while dur­ing its first hour it feels like a film that you can watch for­ev­er, it soon starts to drag and make all too ev­i­dent its lack of a well-de­fined struc­ture.

From the Land of the Moon (2016)

Mar­i­on Cotil­lard com­pos­es her char­ac­ter with enough sen­si­tiv­i­ty to pre­vent her from be­com­ing in­suf­fer­able in her self­ish­ness, man­ag­ing to make us feel sym­pa­thy for a piti­ful woman who is in des­per­ate need to sur­ren­der to her sex­u­al urges and a love that will con­sume her.

From Up on Pop­py Hill (2011)

A sweet and harm­less an­i­ma­tion that is sur­pris­ing­ly ground­ed in re­al­i­ty with­out the fan­ta­sy seen in the works of Hayao Miyaza­ki (who wrote the sto­ry), and it ben­e­fits from a light­heart­ed hu­mor and ten­der nos­tal­gia, even with a rather sil­ly con­flict that ends in a not-very-in­spired way.

The Front Page (1974)

Even if lack­ing the screw­ball charm of His Girl Fri­day, this is a fun­ny ‘fruit­cake’ com­e­dy that works best when mak­ing fun of the lengths jour­nal­ists are ca­pa­ble of go­ing for a scoop (which could­n’t be more up-to-date in 1974), with two ex­cep­tion­al per­for­mances by Matthau and Lem­mon.

Frontier(s) (2007)

I find it hi­lar­i­ous­ly pa­thet­ic that Xavier Gens wants to con­vince us that this is a “se­ri­ous” movie that aims at some sort of po­lit­i­cal mes­sage, when in fact it is all a lame ex­cuse for the kind of brain­less, de­riv­a­tive gore that we have seen be­fore in thou­sands of sim­i­lar films.

Frozen (2010)

The fact that this film is tense and ter­ri­fy­ing as hell and has three great per­for­mances is what com­pen­sates for a gen­er­al­ly thin di­a­logue and the char­ac­ters’ lack of in­tel­li­gence, bring­ing to mind oth­er great min­i­mal­ist hor­ror movies like Open Wa­ter but with wolves in­stead of sharks.

Frozen (2013)

A vi­su­al­ly stun­ning Dis­ney an­i­ma­tion with won­der­ful songs and a sto­ry that bold­ly sub­verts the con­ven­tions of fairy tales by hav­ing no women in need of princes to res­cue them — even though it could have done with­out a shock­ing, cliched rev­e­la­tion about a cer­tain char­ac­ter in the last act.

Frozen II (2019)

It is not just that the songs are more for­get­table and have the gen­er­al ten­den­cy to sound re­dun­dant in their con­text; what makes this se­quel re­al­ly pale in com­par­i­son with the won­der­ful first movie is how much it feels like a triv­ial af­ter­thought that does­n’t care to take chances.

Fruit­vale Sta­tion (2013)

A trag­ic sto­ry of in­tol­er­ance and in­jus­tice that sus­tains an ubiq­ui­tous ten­sion right from the first scene (when we are told how it all ends) and es­chews any hint of melo­dra­ma, show­ing Os­car as a three-di­men­sion­al per­son with qual­i­ties and flaws in or­der to re­mind us of the val­ue of hu­man life.

Full Cir­cle (1977)

I’m all for slow-burn­ing hor­ror films that take their time to build an eerie at­mos­phere, but this is just not the case, and what we have here is an in­con­sis­tent, un­der­whelm­ing movie (full of loose ends) that seems to be strug­gling to find any­thing to say from a bunch of dis­joint­ed ideas.

Full Met­al Jack­et (1987)

A pow­er­ful and cyn­i­cal film that por­trays with dark hu­mor and acid crit­i­cism the de­hu­man­iz­ing side of war, with R. Lee Er­mey and D’Onofrio steal­ing the show in the most mem­o­rable scenes. Still, the sec­ond part nev­er achieves the lev­el of ex­cel­lence of the first half, turn­ing into just an­oth­er war movie.

Fun & Fan­cy Free (1947)

An up­lift­ing and sweet an­i­mat­ed pack­age film that com­bines mu­sic and nar­ra­tive in ways su­pe­ri­or to Make Mine Mu­sic, Dis­ney’s pre­vi­ous ef­fort, and has two very nice sto­ries — too long for shorts and too short for fea­tures — that are worth our time.

The Fun­da­men­tals of Car­ing (2016)

An­oth­er of those quirky lit­tle in­die movies that try so hard to please Sun­dance, and while I re­al­ly like it in its first hour (es­pe­cial­ly be­cause of its per­for­mances), it al­most sinks in its third act when it starts to give in to un­nec­es­sary clichés and some cheap sen­ti­men­tal­i­ty.

The Fun­house (1981)

Here is a lousy hor­ror movie that does­n’t man­age to be tense, scary or even creepy, be­ing just slow, dull and most­ly un­event­ful — and the most iron­ic (or pa­thet­ic, ac­tu­al­ly) is that it gets even worse and dumb­er when things fi­nal­ly start to hap­pen, with only thir­ty min­utes left.

Fun­ny Games (1997)

A bril­liant nar­ra­tive ex­er­cise that clev­er­ly plays with the con­ven­tions of main­stream Cin­e­ma to cre­ate a cru­el and mer­ci­less ex­pe­ri­ence for the view­ers, who are forced to face their own taste for (and ob­ses­sion with) vi­o­lence and is re­fused any sort of cathar­sis or re­lief.

Fun­ny Games (2007)

A shot-for-shot re­make in Eng­lish of the bril­liant Aus­tri­an thriller that Haneke him­self made ten years be­fore — which makes me won­der what the point is, since it is the ex­act same plot. At least it is worth check­ing out for Nao­mi Watts’ spec­tac­u­lar per­for­mance.

Fun­ny Peo­ple (2009)

An un­even Ap­a­tow dram­e­dy in which the first half is great but the sec­ond not re­al­ly. The prob­lem is that the sto­ry stretch­es for too long with many scenes that should have been left out in the edi­tion room, lead­ing to a se­ri­ous lack of pace that bogs down the fi­nal re­sult.

Fury (2014)

An in­tense and sus­pense­ful war movie with strong per­for­mances and a wel­come un­sen­ti­men­tal ap­proach to show the de­hu­man­iz­ing side of war in its raw, un­flinch­ing de­tails and that which makes us hu­mans, like the brav­ery and mer­cy found in peo­ple in the worst of cir­cum­stances.

Fu­ture­world (1976)

Real life is a shock af­ter that,” one char­ac­ter says about a dread­ful (and com­plete­ly point­less) dream scene that sum­ma­rizes every­thing this stu­pid se­quel does so bad­ly, es­pe­cial­ly with re­gard to its ridicu­lous lack of struc­ture and of ideas wor­thy of be­ing de­vel­oped and ex­plored.

Fu­turo Beach (2014)

A hyp­no­tiz­ing vi­su­al ex­pe­ri­ence with an in­deli­ble score but whose ab­stract way to ap­proach its sto­ry makes it dif­fi­cult for us to con­nect to the char­ac­ters in an emo­tion­al lev­el, be­ing a ro­mance that lacks pas­sion and sub­tle­ty to deal with its themes even though they are there.

Fyre (2019)

Mak­ing me lit­er­al­ly hold my breath in ex­pec­ta­tion for every next bit of in­for­ma­tion with a sto­ry that is too bizarre and hi­lar­i­ous­ly in­sane to be fic­tion, this is a su­perbly edit­ed doc­u­men­tary about what hap­pens when you put too much pow­er in the hands of a pa­thet­ic play­boy.

Gabbeh (1996)

It is an ab­sorb­ing film, much like a sur­re­al vi­su­al poem that could­n’t be more cin­e­mat­ic in the way it is told, sus­tained ex­clu­sive­ly on its edit­ing (and the end­less pos­si­bil­i­ties that it of­fers to a sto­ry like this, in­clud­ing beau­ti­ful match cuts) and a daz­zling use of col­ors.

Gabriel and the Moun­tain (2017)

By us­ing the same lo­ca­tions that the real-life Gabriel vis­it­ed in his trav­els as well as peo­ple who met him along his way play­ing them­selves, Fe­lipe Bar­bosa cre­ates a pro­found­ly mov­ing char­ac­ter study that blurs the line be­tween re­al­i­ty and fic­tion to near per­fec­tion.

Gains­bourg: A Hero­ic Life (2010)

This charm­ing biopic about Serge Gains­bourg is def­i­nite­ly not spe­cial, and I re­al­ly don’t know what is so hero­ic about him, but it is a de­light to see how he wrote some of his songs and met the women of his life, in a sur­re­al and styl­ish de­pic­tion of part of his ex­is­tence.

Game Night (2018)

I can’t de­cide what is most fun in this su­perbly re­fresh­ing com­e­dy: if the awe­some di­a­logue, the out­stand­ing cam­er­a­work and di­rec­tion, or the hi­lar­i­ous sit­u­a­tions the char­ac­ters get into, de­spite how the film tries maybe a bit too hard to be sur­pris­ing with­out re­al­ly need­ing to.

Game of Thrones: The Last Watch (2019)

The ex­ces­sive fo­cus on the snow guy and some oth­er ran­dom peo­ple we meet here be­comes an­noy­ing af­ter a while, but at least it is nice to see the ef­fort and ded­i­ca­tion of those in­volved in the pro­duc­tion of the last sea­son of one of the most icon­ic TV shows ever made.

Gan­da­har (1988)

This av­er­age time-trav­el sci­ence-fic­tion fan­ta­sy is Laloux’s most ef­fi­cient fea­ture-length an­i­ma­tion of the three he made, with a great score and a plot that is more in­ter­est­ing than Fan­tas­tic Plan­et and more fo­cused than Time Mas­ters.

Gand­hi (1982)

A sin­cere biopic about a most ad­mirable man and en­riched by Ben Kings­ley’s ex­cep­tion­al per­for­mance — even if the sto­ry is in fact more di­dac­tic than re­al­ly com­pelling and with Gand­hi not as fas­ci­nat­ing as a char­ac­ter as the strength of his con­vic­tions and ac­com­plish­ments.

Gar­rin­cha: Hero of the Jun­gle (1963)

The in­ter­na­tion­al ti­tle is dis­gust­ing, but it trans­lates quite ac­cu­rate­ly the self-dep­re­cat­ing way most Brazil­ians see them­selves, while the film en­cap­su­lates the in­no­cence of a time when soc­cer was not yet a weapon of pro­pa­gan­da and ap­pease­ment by those who would take over the coun­try one year lat­er.

Gaslight (1944)

Bergman won an Os­car for her role but it was Boy­er who should have won many for his metic­u­lous per­for­mance as the mys­te­ri­ous hus­band (he was nom­i­nat­ed, though) in this taut thriller whose ten­sion is in­creased by an ex­em­plary art di­rec­tion and mise-en-scène.

The Gate­keep­ers (2012)

Es­sen­tial view­ing that of­fers some de­press­ing (and at times ter­ri­fy­ing) first­hand ac­counts of the ac­tiv­i­ties of the Shin Bet and the mo­ti­va­tions be­hind the group’s moves since the Six-Day War, sur­pris­ing us with an im­pres­sive com­bi­na­tion of in­ter­views, archival footage and CGI.

Gates of Heav­en (1978)

A sim­ple film that proves you can make a doc­u­men­tary about just about any­thing, and even if Mor­ris does­n’t seem that ea­ger to tell us any of this, he finds a strange beau­ty in the mun­dane, es­pe­cial­ly as he shows us how some­one’s dream cu­ri­ous­ly be­came some­one else’s fam­i­ly busi­ness.

The Gen­er­al (1926)

A true clas­sic in every sense of the word, hys­ter­i­cal­ly fun­ny like few oth­ers and fea­tur­ing some of the most ex­cit­ing lo­co­mo­tive chas­es ever filmed, as well as an epic-scale pro­duc­tion, a beau­ti­ful score and a cin­e­matog­ra­phy in sepia that feels like a trav­el in time.

A Gen­tle Crea­ture (2017)

It can be hard some­times to wit­ness all lev­els of degra­da­tion, hu­mil­i­a­tion and misog­y­ny that the meek pro­tag­o­nist of this un­set­tling film is put through, and that is why this be­comes a hard-hit­ting look at an ugly so­ci­ety in which so­lu­tions or an­swers re­main wish­ful think­ing.

Gen­tle­men Pre­fer Blondes (1953)

A very fun­ny and en­ter­tain­ing mu­si­cal in gor­geous Tech­ni­col­or, with ex­cel­lent di­a­logue, an an­i­mal mag­net­ism ex­ud­ed by Jane Rus­sell and Mar­i­lyn Mon­roe, and nice mu­si­cal num­bers like “Bye, Bye Baby” and Mon­roe’s glam­orous ren­di­tion of “Di­a­monds Are a Girl’s Best Friend.”

Ger­man Con­cen­tra­tion Camps Fac­tu­al Sur­vey (2014)

A supreme­ly im­por­tant and very dis­turb­ing his­tor­i­cal doc­u­ment avail­able to­day af­ter a re­mark­able re­con­struc­tion to its orig­i­nal­ly in­tend­ed form, and whose high­light is the fan­tas­tic cam­er­a­work han­dled by the men who were there and could cap­ture these es­sen­tial im­ages.

Ger­many Year Zero (1948)

Even if it tends to di­verge a bit from ne­o­re­al­ism into melo­dra­ma, es­pe­cial­ly in its last mo­ments, this is a gut-wrench­ing tale set against the wreck­age of a post-war Berlin about a trag­ic boy who em­bod­ies the pain of a col­lapsed so­ci­ety strug­gling to sur­vive.

Geron­tophil­ia (2013)

The premise is in­ter­est­ing and could have been made into some­thing re­al­ly fas­ci­nat­ing by a bet­ter film­mak­er, but Bruce La Bruce di­rects it like a cheap stu­dent film: poor­ly made, pre­dictable, plagued with bad act­ing and de­press­ing­ly su­per­fi­cial in the way it tack­les its sub­ject.

Get Him to the Greek (2010)

A de­cent spin-off of For­get­ting Sarah Mar­shall, not as de­light­ful and touch­ing as that com­e­dy but still very fun­ny and sur­pris­ing­ly sweet, with great per­for­mances by Jon­ah Hill and Rus­sell Brand. And re­mem­ber, “when the world slips you a Jef­frey, stroke the fur­ry wall.”

Get on Up (2014)

Bose­man is clos­er to a car­i­ca­ture of James Brown than of the real man in this in­fu­ri­at­ing­ly dis­joint­ed mess full of jumps in time that fol­low no co­he­sion or log­ic, and it does­n’t of­fer any in­sight what­so­ev­er into who the man was or what made him a “ge­nius” be­sides be­ing a com­plete douche bag.

Get Out (2017)

Jor­dan Peele knows how to com­bine hu­mor and psy­cho­log­i­cal hor­ror to make us feel con­stant­ly un­com­fort­able and ap­pre­hen­sive, and it is re­al­ly amaz­ing the way he tack­les the nu­ances of dai­ly-life racism — even though the vil­lains’ mo­ti­va­tions don’t re­al­ly make any sense.

Gett: The Tri­al of Vi­viane Am­salem (2014)

An in­fu­ri­at­ing look into a misog­y­nist, pa­tri­ar­chal society/legal sys­tem dom­i­nat­ed by out­ra­geous re­li­gious val­ues that force women to be in a po­si­tion of sub­mis­sion and hu­mil­i­a­tion be­fore their hus­bands — which is some­thing that seems in­evitable in a theo­crat­ic state like Is­rael.

Ghost (1990)

The kind of movie that suc­ceeds very well try­ing to be a lot of things at once: hi­lar­i­ous, heart­break­ing, mys­te­ri­ous and even with some hor­ror in it — and it is Whoopi Gold­berg who steals the scene in a price­less, un­for­get­table per­for­mance from the mo­ment she shows up.

Ghost in the Shell (1995)

A cere­bral, thought-pro­vok­ing and bleak Japan­ese an­i­ma­tion that pulls us into a cold ro­boti­cized world in a not-so-far fu­ture and would be an in­spi­ra­tion for many mod­ern philo­soph­i­cal sci­ence-fic­tion works re­flect­ing the fear of tech­nol­o­gy, such as The Ma­trix.

Ghost World (2001)

The film may stum­ble a bit to­wards the end but is still a very fun­ny dark com­e­dy that un­der­stands its char­ac­ters and should be re­gard­ed as a re­mark­able ex­am­ple of bal­ance be­tween dead­pan hu­mor and cyn­i­cal dra­ma as it even makes us laugh out loud in the most un­ex­pect­ed, ab­surd mo­ments.

The Ghost Writer (2010)

An en­gag­ing and tense thriller with an in­trigu­ing mys­tery and a styl­ish di­rec­tion that bring to mind Polan­ski’s finest works, and some scenes here are spec­tac­u­lar, es­pe­cial­ly the fi­nal se­quence, while Ewan Mc­Gre­gor puts in a very strong per­for­mance.

Ghost­busters (1984)

I think I will nev­er re­al­ly grasp what made this mild­ly en­ter­tain­ing movie so adored when it was re­leased; it is fun­ny and has great per­for­mances (es­pe­cial­ly Bill Mur­ray, ad-lib­bing in­sane­ly), but it drags a bit and the spe­cial ef­fects look aw­ful­ly cheesy and dat­ed to­day.

Ghost­busters (2016)

Don’t even lis­ten to what the sex­ist de­trac­tors are pout­ing so much about, this ex­cel­lent, hi­lar­i­ous re­boot is even bet­ter than the orig­i­nal movie, with great ac­tress­es play­ing in­tel­li­gent women who can kick more ass than a lot of men — and the spe­cial ef­fects are sen­sa­tion­al.

Gi­al­lo (2009)

Ar­gen­to’s lat­est gi­al­lo in Eng­lish is frus­trat­ing­ly con­ven­tion­al and point­less, with ac­tors who are odd­ly in­ex­pres­sive and a plot that can­not even jus­ti­fy its ex­is­tence, while he nev­er dis­plays the di­rect­ing skills that made him such a re­spect­ed cult film­mak­er in the first place.

The Gift (2015)

It would have been so easy to make Edger­ton’s char­ac­ter into a Max Cady-like psy­chopath, but Edger­ton (now the writer/director) is in­tel­li­gent to dis­solve the line be­tween he­roes and vil­lains, cre­at­ing a smart psy­cho­log­i­cal thriller with a great eye for re­veal­ing de­tails.

Gigli (2003)

It is not one of the worst movies ever made like many peo­ple say, but it is in­ter­minable, struc­tural­ly messy and the di­a­logue can be hideous some­times, with the biggest prob­lem be­ing Lopez’s com­plete lack of charis­ma and nonex­is­tent chem­istry with Af­fleck.

Gil­da (1946)

It is easy to just en­joy the gor­geous sight of Rita Hay­worth ex­hal­ing beau­ty and sen­su­al­i­ty, but let’s not over­look how stu­pid, im­plau­si­ble and misog­y­nist this film re­al­ly is, paint­ing Gil­da as a mis­chie­vous femme fa­tale when in fact she is a vic­tim in the hands of two hideous men.

Gimme Dan­ger (2016)

Jar­musch makes a doc­u­men­tary that looks sur­pris­ing­ly cheap, am­a­teur­ish and poor­ly made (even the ridicu­lous font used seems like from Pow­er­Point), be­ing also su­per­fi­cial and ir­ri­tat­ing­ly con­ven­tion­al like a TV spe­cial and not of­fer­ing any­thing rel­e­vant in terms of con­text.

Gin­ger & Fred (1986)

What seems at first like a harm­less con­dem­na­tion of tele­vi­sion as an in­sane, ridicu­lous cir­cus (and as such it comes off as a sil­ly, dat­ed and most­ly un­fun­ny film) soon turns out to be a tru­ly melan­choly and touch­ing ex­pe­ri­ence, with Masi­na and Mas­troian­ni shin­ing to­geth­er.

Gin­ger Snaps (2000)

What be­gins as a clever satire that uses ly­can­thropy as a wit­ty metaphor for pu­ber­ty soon gets sad­ly de­railed in a dis­ap­point­ing de­vel­op­ment in which it seems to go awry and lose its way (main­ly its the­mat­ic fo­cus) into mere gore and vi­o­lence (though I do like how it ends).

Girl (2018)

De­spite its ques­tion­able cast­ing (al­though we can un­der­stand the dif­fi­cul­ty of find­ing a trans­gen­der ac­tress for the role) and an end­ing that feels like a cop-out, Lukas Dhont cre­ates a sen­si­tive film that makes us share the char­ac­ter’s an­guish as she strug­gles with self-ac­cep­tance.

A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night (2014)

The kind of failed art­sy hor­ror pulp West­ern in which even the stun­ning mo­ments help make it feel all the more pre­ten­tious, sil­ly and emp­ty, and there is noth­ing more ridicu­lous than an Iran­ian fem­i­nist vam­pire wear­ing a chador — is that sup­posed to be iron­ic or just stu­pid?

Girl with a Pearl Ear­ring (2003)

An in­trigu­ing dra­ma cen­tered on the strong sex­u­al ten­sion be­tween Jo­hannes Ver­meer and a woman who would sup­pos­ed­ly be­come the sub­ject of his most fa­mous paint­ing — but even if vi­su­al­ly stun­ning, the re­sult could have been a bit more in­volv­ing.

The Girl with All the Gifts (2016)

If you want an ex­am­ple of Id­iot Plot, there you are, a de­riv­a­tive zom­bie movie in which ba­si­cal­ly all char­ac­ters must act like com­plete im­be­ciles oth­er­wise there would be no movie; be­sides, it is full of the worst kind of ex­po­si­tion and ends like an al­most glo­ri­fi­ca­tion of “id­ioc­ra­cy.”

The Girl with the Drag­on Tat­too (2009)

The high­est-gross­ing Eu­ro­pean pro­duc­tion in 2009, this in­tense Swedish thriller is both an in­ter­est­ing in­ves­ti­ga­tion dra­ma and a ter­ri­fy­ing sex­u­al abuse sto­ry — and Naoo­mi Ra­pace’s mag­net­ic per­for­mance makes it cer­tain­ly worth see­ing.

The Girl Who Played with Fire (2009)

An un­der­whelm­ing, over­ly con­vo­lut­ed and com­plete­ly for­get­table mess of a se­quel full of in­con­sis­ten­cies and non­sen­si­cal sit­u­a­tions, and it de­pends on too many co­in­ci­dences and plot holes to keep its im­plau­si­ble nar­ra­tive mov­ing on.

The Girl Who Kicked the Hor­net’s Nest (2009)

This fi­nal chap­ter is not as in­fu­ri­at­ing­ly in­co­her­ent as the pre­vi­ous one but is even less in­ter­est­ing, with very lit­tle ten­sion and few sur­pris­es. Be­sides, it also lacks that chem­istry be­tween the two leads, who are once again bare­ly seen to­geth­er.

The Girl with the Drag­on Tat­too (2011)

This Amer­i­can adap­ta­tion of Larsson’s best-sell­er is just as in­trigu­ing as the Swedish ver­sion but Finch­er man­ages to cre­ate much more ten­sion and main­tain a more flu­id pace — and it has a mag­nif­i­cent per­for­mance by Rooney Mara, who is def­i­nite­ly the star here.

The Girl­friend Ex­pe­ri­ence (2009)

Though the film’s sub­ject may not ap­peal to every­one, it is fas­ci­nat­ing how Soder­bergh uses a low-bud­get, ex­per­i­men­tal ap­proach to take an hon­est look at the pri­vate life of an es­cort played by porn ac­tress Sasha Grey as she deals with her clients, her work and her boyfriend.

Girls Just Want to Have Fun (1985)

A stu­pid teen flick that may be mild­ly amus­ing at times but is most­ly re­al­ly sil­ly and for­get­table, with aw­ful di­a­logue and clichés every­where, be­ing only worth it for its nice ’80s songs and not much else.

Girls of the Sun (2018)

Ben­e­fit­ing from two in­tense cen­tral per­for­mances (es­pe­cial­ly Fara­hani, who plays a very gen­er­ous woman and brave war­rior), this is a hard-hit­ting ac­count of a trag­ic real-life sto­ry, but it los­es part of its im­pact with a struc­ture that re­lies on in­tru­sive (and un­ec­es­sary) flash­backs.

Girls Trip (2017)

I can’t count how many times Tiffany Had­dish made me laugh real loud with this, and it is great to see the way she turns a car­i­ca­ture into an ac­tu­al flesh-and-blood per­son (same goes for the oth­er ac­tress­es) as the movie finds a re­fresh­ing bal­ance be­tween raunchy and hon­est.

Give Up To­mor­row (2011)

An un­be­liev­able and re­volt­ing real sto­ry about an ab­surd­ly hor­ren­dous in­jus­tice suf­fered by a young man who has been try­ing to win a fight for over fif­teen years now against pow­er­ful peo­ple who want­ed to see him ex­e­cut­ed de­spite every in­dis­putable ev­i­dence of his in­no­cence.

Glass (2019)

James McAvoy is just as amaz­ing as in Split, but even if there is a lot to com­mend here in terms of nar­ra­tive, you don’t need that much to re­al­ize that this ap­par­ent­ly smooth sur­face has cracks, holes and a bunch of Shya­malan twists that pile up in a des­per­ate at­tempt to sur­prise us.

The Glass Menagerie (1973)

Ku­dos to Hep­burn for her out­stand­ing per­for­mance in this fab­u­lous adap­ta­tion for TV of Williams’ play, as she finds the per­fect tone for her char­ac­ter at just one step back from be­ing an­noy­ing, while Miles and Mo­ri­ar­ty shine in their won­der­ful long scene to­geth­er.

Glauber o Filme, Labir­in­to do Brasil (2003)

If it weren’t for João Ubal­do’s fun­ny anec­dotes, this would be just an or­di­nary, su­per­fi­cial and poor­ly-made doc­u­men­tary based on in­ter­views which gen­er­al­ly tend to­ward ha­giog­ra­phy (there is no nar­ra­tion) and over­long scenes of Rocha’s wake that be­come re­al­ly tire­some af­ter a while.

The Glean­ers and I (2002)

Ag­nès Var­da is a film­mak­er who is al­ways fas­ci­nat­ed by the tini­est things she en­coun­ters, and it is just as fas­ci­nat­ing for us to see what a com­pre­hen­sive doc­u­men­tary this is, full of de­tails about the glean­ers and also her­self, and yet per­fect­ly-edit­ed to­geth­er into a beau­ti­ful whole.

The Glean­ers and I: Two Years Lat­er (2002)

A wel­come ap­pen­dix to the first film that re­vis­its some of those peo­ple we met and meets oth­ers who were in­spired by it as well, not only con­tin­u­ing but also deep­en­ing its fas­ci­nat­ing dis­cus­sions on hu­man mis­ery, food waste and the places where you can dis­cov­er and cre­ate art.

Glen or Glen­da (1953)

With aw­ful per­for­mances and lu­di­crous di­a­logue, this atro­cious movie has a lot of heart but sad­ly no brains, and so it is rep­e­ti­tious, full of non­sen­si­cal stock footage and un­in­ten­tion­al­ly sur­re­al­is­tic with­out mak­ing much sense as a nar­ra­tive what­so­ev­er.

Glo­ria (2013)

The true back­bone of this hon­est, in­volv­ing film is Pauli­na Gar­cía, who shines im­mense­ly with so much tal­ent and charis­ma, giv­ing shape to a com­plex, sym­pa­thet­ic char­ac­ter in a sto­ry that is more nu­anced than it ap­pears to be.

Glo­ria Bell (2018)

It feels like Se­bastián Le­lio is on au­topi­lot af­ter ac­cept­ing a job he does­n’t re­al­ly care that much about, as he (un­nec­es­sar­i­ly) re­makes an oth­er­wise ex­cel­lent char­ac­ter study with­out putting any soul into what he is do­ing de­spite ben­e­fit­ing from a sol­id per­for­mance by Ju­lianne Moore.

Go West (1925)

It is so much fun to see Keaton throw the West up­side down as he be­friends a jol­ly cow in a ranch, strug­gles to ar­rive in time for lunch and sets a herd of cat­tle free in the city while try­ing to make his way as a cow­boy, even if hi­lar­i­ous­ly clue­less about what he is do­ing.

God Told Me To (1976)

A very strange and al­ways in­trigu­ing com­bi­na­tion of de­tec­tive crime dra­ma and su­per­nat­ur­al hor­ror that must have in­spired David Cro­nen­berg with his films and would lat­er be the stuff of films like An­gel Heart, with an end­ing so bizarre that it should be re­mem­bered for its au­dac­i­ty.

God’s Own Coun­try (2017)

What im­pressed me most in Frances Lee’s haunt­ing de­but is how it is so full of af­fec­tion and tells so much even when the char­ac­ters say very lit­tle in their scenes to­geth­er, mov­ing us with the in­ten­si­ty of their grow­ing feel­ings for each oth­er in a most­ly silent, re­strained way.

Go­dard Mon Amour (2017)

Gar­rel and Mar­tin are both pret­ty im­pres­sive here, while Haz­anavi­cius plays with lan­guage (and meta­lan­guage) to paint a sur­pris­ing­ly un­sym­pa­thet­ic por­trait of an in­se­cure (and some­times quite mean and cru­el) artist who de­spis­es the old and is afraid of what the youth thinks of him.

Godzil­la (2014)

De­spite the tal­ent­ed di­rec­tor and cast, this is an in­cred­i­bly dull and poor­ly di­rect­ed movie with se­ri­ous pac­ing is­sues, emp­ty char­ac­ters and bla­tant in­co­her­ences, while its orig­i­nal rai­son d’être as an al­le­go­ry is sim­ply dis­card­ed in fa­vor of a for­get­table, point­less reimag­in­ing.

Godzil­la, King of the Mon­sters! (1956)

This de­based Amer­i­can­ized ver­sion of the orig­i­nal Japan­ese film, re-edit­ed to in­clude Ray­mond Burr as a re­porter, is rel­a­tive­ly well made but full of in­con­sis­ten­cies, bad re-dub­bing and ter­ri­ble ex­po­si­tion, with him an­noy­ing­ly nar­rat­ing all the time what we can eas­i­ly see.

Go­ing Clear: Sci­en­tol­ogy and the Prison of Be­lief (2015)

An ap­palling and ter­ri­fy­ing doc­u­men­tary that ex­pos­es the hor­rif­ic truth be­hind this abu­sive cult cre­at­ed by a ridicu­lous­ly delu­sion­al man who dis­cov­ered the most in­ge­nious way to brain­wash so many in­cred­i­bly stu­pid peo­ple into be­com­ing will­ing pris­on­ers of his lu­cra­tive sham.

Go­ji­ra (1954)

The orig­i­nal Japan­ese clas­sic be­fore it was re-edit­ed for the Amer­i­can au­di­ence is this fun cat­a­stro­phe movie that of­fers a smart com­men­tary on nu­clear tests in a post­war era, show­ing a Tokyo dev­as­tat­ed by a mon­ster born as a con­se­quence of the de­struc­tive ac­tions of man.

Gold Dig­gers of 1933 (1933)

A po­lit­i­cal­ly en­gaged (and very fun­ny) mu­si­cal that re­flects the his­tor­i­cal con­text to which it be­longs and, clear­ly in fa­vor of Roo­sevelt’s New Deal, uses the mag­i­cal trans­for­ma­tion of the lim­it­ed the­ater stage into a gi­gan­tic cin­e­mat­ic space to show that every­thing is pos­si­ble.

The Gold Rush (1925)

A heart­break­ing silent com­e­dy re-re­leased with a nar­ra­tion by Chap­lin him­self that only adds to it in­stead of stand­ing in the way, and it is a clas­sic that fea­tures nu­mer­ous mem­o­rable scenes in one sin­gle film, some of them quite mov­ing while oth­ers ex­treme­ly fun­ny.

The Gold­en Dream (2013)

What Que­ma­da-Diez did here was make a most re­al­is­tic and de­fin­i­tive cin­e­mat­ic de­pic­tion of the jour­ney un­der­tak­en by all those mi­grants who set out full of hope af­ter the Amer­i­can Dream but find them­selves caught in a dev­as­tat­ing night­mare that should teach us some­thing about sol­i­dar­i­ty.

The Gold­en Glove (2019)

We can al­most smell the filth from our side of the screen, and while Akin finds a cu­ri­ous bal­ance be­tween bru­tal vi­o­lence and un­ex­pect­ed mo­ments of bizarre hu­mor, it is hard to tell what he wants with any of this, as his film works nei­ther as a char­ac­ter study nor as hor­ror.

Gold­en Years (1991)

Stephen King wants to make his own Twin Peaks and seems much more in­ter­est­ed in a num­ber of ec­cen­tric sec­ondary char­ac­ters than Har­lan and his wife, who are so poor­ly de­vel­oped and turn out to be just a MacGuf­fin to car­ry the plot for­ward through in­con­sis­ten­cies and to­wards no con­clu­sion.

Gone (2012)

Dhali­a’s first Hol­ly­wood film is this ef­fi­cient thriller that re­lies on a con­stant ten­sion and on the un­cer­tain­ty sur­round­ing a kid­nap­ping that may only be a prod­uct of the pro­tag­o­nist’s fear and para­noia. A sol­id movie but al­most ru­ined by an im­plau­si­ble end.

Gone Girl (2014)

Ben Af­fleck and Rosamund Pike de­serve many awards for their ex­cep­tion­al per­for­mances in this bril­liant thriller that keeps us al­ways guess­ing at the very edge of our seats with its de­li­cious­ly elab­o­rate plot and nev­er ceas­es to sur­prise us with every in­cred­i­ble twist it throws on our laps.

Gone with the Wind (1939)

This im­mor­tal clas­sic — the de­f­i­n­i­tion of Hol­ly­wood pe­ri­od epic — re­mains even to­day a splen­dorous spec­ta­cle that stands above most mod­ern block­busters with its as­ton­ish­ing pro­duc­tion val­ues and holds our full at­ten­tion for al­most four hours as we fol­low its two un­for­get­table char­ac­ters.

Gon­za­ga: De Pai pra Fil­ho (2012)

A sol­id biopic that gains from fo­cus­ing on the tem­pes­tu­ous re­la­tion­ship be­tween fa­ther and son, and mak­ing that the true core of this ab­sorb­ing sto­ry in­stead of Gon­za­ga’s ear­ly life and rise to fame; but the re­sult is also a bit more schemat­ic than emo­tion­al­ly in­vest­ing.

Good (2008)

De­spite its ad­mirable in­ten­tions, this is a frus­trat­ing dra­ma that lacks enough dra­mat­ic in­ten­si­ty and strength to de­liv­er its in­tend­ed mes­sage about evil and con­for­mi­ty — and it does­n’t help at all that Mortensen can­not do much in an un­con­vinc­ing per­for­mance.

The Good Di­nosaur (2015)

It is daz­zling to look at (if you don’t mind about all those rub­ber-look­ing char­ac­ters), but Pixar aims too low with this de­riv­a­tive an­i­ma­tion made for very small chil­dren — a sil­ly, pre­dictable and for­get­table movie about fac­ing your fears, the im­por­tance of fam­i­ly and what­ev­er, who cares.

Good Man­ners (2017)

Even if this atyp­i­cal film is quite sur­pris­ing and al­most per­fect in the way it com­bines sev­er­al dif­fer­ent gen­res (in­clud­ing mu­si­cal) into some­thing akin to a nat­u­ral­is­tic fairy tale, it is only a pity, though, that it is not re­al­ly clear what the di­rec­tors want to say with all this.

Good Morn­ing, Viet­nam (1987)

Robin Williams is ex­cel­lent, mak­ing the most of his im­pro­vi­sa­tion skills and ad-lib­bing every one of those fun­ny broad­casts (though his fre­net­ic sense of hu­mor may not be for every­one), and it is a great thing that the movie has a lot of heart and un­der­stands the com­plex­i­ty of that con­flict.

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly (1966)

Leone reach­es the lev­el of ab­solute per­fec­tion in this third film of his Dol­lar Tril­o­gy, a mag­nif­i­cent Spaghet­ti West­ern — ar­guably the best of them all — that fea­tures fan­tas­tic per­for­mances, an un­for­get­table score and a sub­lime, breath­tak­ing cin­e­matog­ra­phy.

The Good, the Bad, the Weird (2008)

This Ser­gio Leone-in­spired Ko­re­an West­ern is well di­rect­ed, fun­ny and thor­ough­ly en­ter­tain­ing es­pe­cial­ly for fans of Spaghet­ti West­erns, pret­ty much like Taran­ti­no’s well-known pas­tich­es, but it is also over­long and does­n’t seem to know how to end.

Good Time (2017)

Robert Pat­tin­son keeps prov­ing that he can be an amaz­ing ac­tor when not play­ing a ridicu­lous vam­pire, de­liv­er­ing a mag­net­ic per­for­mance in this fre­net­ic, styl­ish and su­per tense movie bathed in neon lights but which only fal­ters a bit in the end by want­i­ng to have a “mes­sage.”

Good Will Hunt­ing (1997)

A heart­felt and deeply hon­est dra­ma with great per­for­mances and an ex­cel­lent script writ­ten by Matt Da­mon and Ben Af­fleck that does­n’t even let us no­tice how at­tached to the char­ac­ters we be­come — and I guess we can all for­give it for that sen­ti­men­tal “it’s not your fault” scene.

Good­bye, Drag­on Inn (2003)

A haunt­ing, gor­geous and near­ly-silent trib­ute to the ex­pe­ri­ence of cin­e­ma-go­ing that per­fect­ly com­bines melan­choly and dead­pan hu­mor, with de­lib­er­ate pac­ing that may prove too slow to ca­su­al movie­go­ers as it puts some­times a good deal of em­pha­sis on still mo­ments.

Good­bye First Love (2011)

Hansen-Løve is a very tal­ent­ed di­rec­tor who knows how to tell a sim­ple yet poignant sto­ry in a way that al­ways rings true and real, and it re­lies on a beau­ti­ful cin­e­matog­ra­phy and a sur­pris­ing pair of ac­tors who even make their per­fect­ly af­fect­ed ro­man­tic lines sound nat­ur­al.

Good­bye to Lan­guage (2014)

It is in­ter­est­ing to see Go­dard break fur­ther away from the rules of cin­e­mat­ic lan­guage and make us take part in the brain­storm­ing process in­side his head, but af­ter a while the ex­pe­ri­ence be­comes more and more ex­cru­ci­at­ing, like the work of a pre­ten­tious philoso­pher.

Good­fel­las (1990)

This mod­ern clas­sic is a fas­ci­nat­ing tale about the rise and fall of an am­bi­tious gang­ster, per­fect­ly di­rect­ed (and edit­ed) and told in a most bru­tal way by Mar­tin Scors­ese, with many mem­o­rable mo­ments and a re­mark­able per­for­mance by Joe Pesci, who steals the show.

The Gospel Ac­cord­ing to St. Matthew (1964)

Pa­soli­ni seems to as­sume that every­one knows the sto­ry by heart and there­fore gloss­es over some pas­sages mak­ing it feel too event­ful; even so, there is an as­ton­ish­ing baroque in­ten­si­ty in what we wit­ness here, as though he trav­eled in time with a cam­era to reg­is­ter those epic mo­ments.

Grace (2009)

Even if it does man­age to be ef­fi­cient some­times, this over­ly twist­ed hor­ror movie is un­for­tu­nate­ly most­ly un­scary, which is not a prob­lem per se, but it tries too hard to be much more graph­ic and sick­en­ing than gen­uine­ly un­set­tling.

Grace of Mona­co (2014)

This fic­tion­al­ized por­tray­al of Grace Kel­ly’s life is a rel­a­tive­ly ab­sorb­ing char­ac­ter study un­til it fi­nal­ly de­cides to glam­or­ize her with sa­cred mu­sic and a god­like back light be­hind her in a heavy-hand­ed, ha­gio­graph­ic third act that feels ter­ri­bly em­bar­rass­ing.

Grad­u­a­tion (2016)

Mungiu uses his usu­al nat­u­ral­is­tic style (with many long takes and even no score) to cre­ate a grip­ping crit­i­cism on Ro­man­ian so­ci­ety, show­ing a se­ries of ex­as­per­at­ing in­ci­dents that com­pel an hon­est and me­thod­i­cal man to do things he would nev­er do in nor­mal cir­cum­stances.

Gran Tori­no (2008)

East­wood is fun­ny but car­toon­ish, snarling and scowl­ing all the time, but the prob­lem with this film is that it clear­ly does­n’t know if it is sup­posed to be tak­en se­ri­ous or not — and what makes it all worse is cer­tain­ly the aw­ful act­ing from the en­tire cast and the lame end­ing.

The Grand Bu­dapest Ho­tel (2014)

An­der­son­’s grand­est film to date is a thrilling ride and a vi­su­al­ly daz­zling pas­tiche that is de­li­cious­ly pre­pos­ter­ous, en­ter­tain­ing and hi­lar­i­ous in the same mea­sure, with a fan­tas­tic sound­track and a phe­nom­e­nal pro­duc­tion de­sign like noth­ing he has ever made be­fore.

Grand Cen­tral (2013)

Rahim and Sey­doux dis­play a great chem­istry to­geth­er in this del­i­cate dra­ma that Zlo­tows­ki con­ducts with a can­did ap­proach while know­ing well how to in­ject ten­sion in the scenes at the nu­clear plant, even though it also builds to a not-very-sat­is­fy­ing con­clu­sion.

Grand Ho­tel (1932)

The kind of whole­some pro­duc­tion made in those days but with a fab­u­lous con­stel­la­tion of stars to make it an un­for­get­table Hol­ly­wood clas­sic — es­pe­cial­ly Joan Craw­ford and Li­onel Bar­ry­more, who are so great that they even man­age to out­shine the rest of the cast.

The Grand Mo­ment (1958)

In­spired by Ital­ian ne­o­re­al­ism, es­pe­cial­ly Bi­cy­cle Thieves, this is a sol­id dra­ma that wins us lit­tle by lit­tle (and with a lot of heart) as it fol­lows a se­ries of mis­for­tunes in the life of a young man who des­per­ate­ly needs mon­ey to pay for his ex­pen­sive wed­ding.

Grand Pi­ano (2013)

Tense enough and with some good mo­ments here and there, this thriller man­ages to en­ter­tain de­spite (or be­cause of) its heavy-hand­ed di­rec­tion and a lu­di­crous plot whose great­est prob­lems in­clude a vil­lain whose mo­tives are ridicu­lous and a lame third act where lit­tle makes sense.

Le Grand Soir (2012)

A pre­cise proof that worse than a point­less movie is a movie that is point­less and dull, and it seems like the work of a men­tal re­tard with a fool­ish idea of “re­bel­lion against the sys­tem,” throw­ing two in­suf­fer­able char­ac­ters in an end­less suc­ces­sion of scenes with no co­he­sion or di­rec­tion.

La Grande Il­lu­sion (1937)

An ap­par­ent­ly sim­ple yet no­tably com­plex film that uses a sub­tle ap­proach to ex­plore a gamut of hu­man­is­tic themes, and Renoir avoids any sort of sen­ti­men­tal­i­ty, which can also be seen in the el­e­gant way that his cam­era seems to float, un­af­fect­ed, among the char­ac­ters.

The Grand­mas­ter (2013)

Wong Kar-Wai seems only con­cerned about his ir­ri­tat­ing aes­thet­ics in this huge­ly un­fo­cused mess that even in­cludes a use­less nar­ra­tion and in­ex­plic­a­bly ir­rel­e­vant char­ac­ters like The Ra­zor — not to men­tion the use of a theme from Once Upon a Time in Amer­i­ca for no clear rea­son.

The Grapes of Wrath (1940)

Ford and John­son were able to trans­pose Stein­beck­’s mas­ter­piece into a splen­did film that pre­serves the book’s essence (even with a dif­fer­ent, up­beat end­ing) with­out in­fring­ing the in­fa­mous rules of the Hays Code, yet it also feels a bit rushed and lack­ing in suf­fi­cient in­for­ma­tion (e.g., Noah van­ish­ing with­out ex­pla­na­tion).

Grave En­coun­ters (2011)

The movie’s des­per­ate at­tempt to look am­a­teur­ish is ris­i­ble and the ac­tors are most­ly ter­ri­ble, but the good thing is that it man­ages to cre­ate a dis­turb­ing at­mos­phere and even finds a good jus­ti­fi­ca­tion for the char­ac­ters to car­ry around their cam­eras in the most ter­ri­fy­ing mo­ments.

Grave of the Fire­flies (1988)

A dev­as­tat­ing an­i­ma­tion that nev­er holds back in its haunt­ing de­pic­tion of the hor­rors of war and the peo­ple whose lives are de­stroyed by it, and the re­sult sim­ply ranks among one of the most pow­er­ful anti-war films to be ever ex­pe­ri­enced — an­i­mat­ed or not.

Grav­i­ty (2013)

Cuarón does not seem to grasp the 3D tech­nol­o­gy that well nor is he al­ways able to stick to the ba­sic rules that he es­tab­lished for his own uni­verse, but he over­comes these few flaws with as­tound­ing vi­su­als, won­der­ful long takes and claus­tro­pho­bic scenes to put us on the very edge of our seats.

The Great Beau­ty (2013)

Bring­ing to mind Fellini’s vi­su­al and nar­ra­tive style, along with Mal­ick­’s con­tem­pla­tive po­et­ry, this deeply sen­si­tive char­ac­ter study works as a ra­zor-sharp crit­i­cism of high so­ci­ety — a true love let­ter to Rome and that great beau­ty un­der­neath so much medi­oc­rity and dis­ap­point­ment.

The Great Dic­ta­tor (1940)

Chap­lin’s first all-talk­ing pic­ture is this won­der­ful, hi­lar­i­ous clas­sic that makes a poignant state­ment against dic­ta­to­r­i­al regimes with count­less mem­o­rable mo­ments, from the dic­ta­tor’s speech in in­com­pre­hen­si­ble Ger­man to an un­for­get­table con­clu­sion.

The Great Es­cape (1963)

By in­vest­ing good part of its nar­ra­tive in the many par­tic­u­lars of the great es­cape plan­ning, this out­stand­ing prison break movie in­creas­es our con­nec­tion with a large gallery of mem­o­rable char­ac­ters, mak­ing us deeply care about its con­se­quences in a tense, breath­tak­ing fi­nal act.

The Great Gats­by (2013)

A very faith­ful adap­ta­tion that, with all its glam­orous cos­tume and pro­duc­tion de­sign, over­styl­ized vi­su­als and anachro­nis­tic mu­sic that only add to it, proves to be a sur­pris­ing­ly riv­et­ing ex­pe­ri­ence and lives up to the good nov­el that in­spired it.

The Great Mad­cap (1949)

It is hard to be­lieve that one of Buñuel’s first films was this sil­ly and in­con­sis­tent lit­tle com­e­dy that, de­spite a great per­for­mance by Fer­nan­do Sol­er and some fun­ny mo­ments, feels pret­ty dat­ed with its naiveté and lack of nu­ance — not to men­tion a ter­ri­ble, cringe-in­duc­ing end­ing.

The Great Mouse De­tec­tive (1986)

Ranks among the bare­ly pass­able Dis­ney an­i­mat­ed movies of the ’70s and ’80s (most), as noth­ing in it feels re­al­ly suf­fi­cient — not the amount of Vin­cent Price (whose char­ac­ter ap­pears very lit­tle), nor the amount of songs (though the few ones are nice), nor the lev­el of fun.

The Great­est (2009)

The plot is pret­ty sad and de­press­ing but it is hard to feel any­thing at all and not be left cold watch­ing this movie — which is cer­tain­ly a fault of all those melo­dra­mat­ic per­for­mances from most of the cast, the film’s end­less clichés and how pre­dictable every­thing re­al­ly is.

Green Book (2018)

The feel-good movie of the year is this sim­plis­tic bro­mance that does­n’t un­der­stand its own char­ac­ters and could­n’t ring less true even if it tried — no mat­ter how com­mit­ted the ac­tors are, play­ing these walk­ing car­i­ca­tures so that a white au­di­ence can go home feel­ing tol­er­ant.

The Green Hor­net (2011)

A point­less ac­tion-packed movie that lacks the retro style and does­n’t even re­sem­ble the TV se­ries, with sleep-in­duc­ing ac­tion scenes, an ir­ri­tat­ing di­a­logue stretched for­ev­er and a messy script (co-writ­ten by Seth Ro­gen) that nev­er de­cides be­tween an­noy­ing and te­dious.

The Green In­fer­no (2013)

Eli Roth dis­plays a sur­pris­ing ma­tu­ri­ty (at least most of the time) with this nasty, tense and well-di­rect­ed hor­ror movie that, aw­ful act­ing apart, pays a wel­come homage to the Ital­ian can­ni­bal genre and Rug­gero De­oda­to — most es­pe­cial­ly his cult clas­sic Can­ni­bal Holo­caust.

Green Lantern (2011)

I’m sur­prised to see that so many peo­ple hat­ed this movie, since it is not bad but rather an en­ter­tain­ing su­per­hero movie (de­spite an ir­reg­u­lar CGI) with good di­a­logue and de­cent act­ing, es­pe­cial­ly from Pe­ter Sars­gaard, who seems to be hav­ing a lot of fun as the bad guy.

The Green Prince (2014)

A fas­ci­nat­ing and sus­pense­ful doc­u­men­tary that tells an al­most un­be­liev­able sto­ry of a man who be­trayed his own cul­ture for what he be­lieved in and two peo­ple from dif­fer­ent back­grounds who be­came un­ex­pect­ed friends as they got caught in the eye of an ever­last­ing storm.

Green Room (2015)

Af­ter show­ing great tal­ent with Blue Ruin, Saulnier comes up with an­oth­er genre ex­er­cise that can be quite tense, bru­tal (lovers of gore and vi­o­lence will have a lot of fun, for sure) and also claus­tro­pho­bic as it con­fines the char­ac­ters in a room sur­round­ed by neo-Nazis.

Gre­ta (2018)

With a ridicu­lous script that makes a lot of lu­di­crous de­ci­sions and re­lies on a num­ber of baf­fling red her­rings, this is a dumb thriller full of clichés and com­plete­ly de­void of sur­pris­es or ten­sion, be­com­ing only in­ad­ver­tent­ly amus­ing when mak­ing us laugh at its most id­i­ot­ic mo­ments.

Gretchen Road Movie (2010)

De­spite los­ing en­er­gy to­wards the end (when the di­rec­tors step in front of the cam­eras but don’t re­al­ly do much with that), this doc­u­men­tary man­ages to be fun­ny, sur­pris­ing and heart­break­ing in equal mea­sure, re­ly­ing most­ly on Gretchen’s huge charis­ma and elo­quence.

The Grey (2011)

A thrilling movie that re­al­ly knows how to ex­tract ten­sion from ex­treme sit­u­a­tions — even though some mo­ments seem a bit il­log­i­cal, like the jol­ly bar­be­cue in the woods -, with an in­tense sto­ry about man fac­ing na­ture and fear, a stun­ning cin­e­matog­ra­phy and strong per­for­mances.

Grey Gar­dens (1975)

This pre­cur­sor of mod­ern re­al­i­ty tele­vi­sion is ciné­ma vérité at its best, not just ob­serv­ing or “in­vad­ing” its sub­jects’ pri­va­cy but ac­tu­al­ly bar­ing naked the in­sane re­la­tion­ship be­tween these two hi­lar­i­ous­ly ec­cen­tric women liv­ing to­geth­er in a de­crepit man­sion falling apart.

Grey Gar­dens (2009)

There is noth­ing re­al­ly new here for those who have al­ready seen the doc­u­men­tary (and the hap­py end­ing feels just off); even so, this is a sol­id drama­ti­za­tion el­e­vat­ed by two re­mark­able per­for­mances (es­pe­cial­ly Lange, who seems to be ac­tu­al­ly chan­nel­ing Big Edie’s ghost).

Il Gri­do (1957)

An in­suf­fer­ably dull, out­dat­ed and point­less film that forces us to be in the com­pa­ny of a hate­ful ma­cho (who we could­n’t feel any sym­pa­thy for) as his life is sur­round­ed by sev­er­al weak women who have no per­son­al­i­ty. Be­sides, the end­ing is sim­ply ridicu­lous.

The Grifters (1990)

A first-rate neo-noir that ben­e­fits from su­perb per­for­mances (es­pe­cial­ly An­jel­i­ca Hus­ton and An­nette Ben­ing); an ex­cel­lent, dark script; a fan­tas­tic score by mas­ter Elmer Bern­stein; and Stephen Frears’ ex­quis­ite di­rec­tion at the helm of one of the most grip­ping films of his ca­reer.

Ground­hog Day (1993)

It is so easy to fall in love with such a sweet, de­light­ful and hi­lar­i­ous com­e­dy that has so many clas­sic mo­ments, but what is most fas­ci­nat­ing about it is how the in­cred­i­bly cre­ative plot al­ways finds a way to rein­vent it­self while ex­plor­ing the many pos­si­bil­i­ties of its premise.

Guardians of the Galaxy (2014)

The type of ir­rev­er­ent Mar­vel su­per­hero movie that we were all wait­ing for but haven’t ad­mit­ted yet, and it is a won­der to see how or­gan­i­cal­ly it com­bines a zany, quirky sense of hu­mor with thrilling ac­tion and good un­sen­ti­men­tal dra­ma (like the awe­some open­ing scene).

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 (2017)

An en­ter­tain­ing se­quel that of­fers a de­light­ful com­bo of ac­tion and hu­mor like the first movie, with a spec­tac­u­lar pro­duc­tion de­sign, an im­pec­ca­ble make­up and top-notch vi­su­al ef­fects, even though it may feel a bit bloat­ed and has a few struc­tur­al bumps along the way.

Guess Who’s Com­ing to Din­ner (1967)

A re­mark­able dra­ma con­sid­er­ing its im­por­tant sub­ject for the time it came out, and it works very well de­spite a few dis­crep­an­cies in tone, like a sil­ly ice cream scene that plays for cheap laughs. But it is Hep­burn and Tra­cy who bring it to a high­er lev­el with won­der­ful per­for­mances.

The Guest (2014)

Thrilling, well con­struct­ed and well paced, this ex­cel­lent blend of 1980s thriller, hor­ror and ac­tion film has Dan Stevens at his most en­tic­ing and de­liv­ers every­thing it sets out to, with an amaz­ing di­rec­tion, an awe­some retro sound­track and a styl­ish cli­max that made me laugh in joy.

The Guilty (2018)

Trust­ing our abil­i­ty to get in­vest­ed in its plot with­out re­sort­ing to a showy di­rec­tion or a rest­less cam­era (un­like films such as Buried and Locke), this tense, ex­haust­ing thriller keeps us al­ways on the edge of our seats even dur­ing a spec­tac­u­lar­ly long sta­t­ic shot in its cli­max.

Gum­mo (1997)

A dis­joint­ed, point­less and de­press­ing ex­er­cise in ni­hilism, with Ko­rine just throw­ing to­geth­er ran­dom scenes to show the filth of the white trash. But all that he man­ages to do is make us feel sick at fol­low­ing the loath­some lives of a bunch of re­pul­sive char­ac­ters.

The Guns (1964)

Made in the ex­act same year when Brazil was tak­en over by the mil­i­tary, this is an im­por­tant film sus­tained by its po­lit­i­cal com­plex­i­ty and in­tense con­vic­tion, ex­pos­ing the abuse of au­thor­i­ties and their in­dif­fer­ence to­wards pover­ty, star­va­tion and the death of hu­man be­ings.

Gut­land (2017)

Here is what hap­pens when you try to com­bine many dif­fer­ent ideas but fail to ex­tract truth from the whole, end­ing up with an un­even col­lec­tion of scenes that work bet­ter sep­a­rate­ly but to­geth­er only lead to a frus­trat­ing con­clu­sion that feels weird­ly thin, am­bigu­ous and in­com­plete.

Hail, Cae­sar! (2016)

A sharp, in­tel­li­gent film that boasts a great cast (Ehren­re­ich is a rev­e­la­tion) and uses the very form of vi­su­al spec­ta­cle to poke fun at the grandiose cin­e­ma of the Hol­ly­wood gold­en age which served the main pur­pose of alien­at­ing the pub­lic in or­der to main­tain so­ci­ety’s sta­tus quo.

Hail Sa­tan? (2019)

Any­one who does­n’t know a thing about mod­ern sa­tanism and just as­sumes it is some­thing evil should def­i­nite­ly watch this in­for­ma­tive doc­u­men­tary and see what is tru­ly be­hind this won­der­ful move­ment and its mem­bers (no mat­ter how ju­ve­nile in their ac­tions they may seem).

La Haine (1995)

Fo­cus­ing on a day in the life of three so­cial out­casts of Paris and im­pres­sive­ly well filmed in black and white with ex­treme­ly el­e­gant long takes, this pow­er­ful dra­ma comes as a pro­found­ly rel­e­vant com­men­tary on the con­tin­u­ous cy­cle of hate that only gen­er­ates more hate.

Hair (1979)

The movie is un­even and seems like it was made about ten years too late (while to­day it feels dat­ed), but it is made worth it by its songs, its ir­rev­er­ence in the way it wants to cap­ture the free spir­it of those re­bel­lious times and its time­less mes­sage in fa­vor of peace.

Hair­spray (2007)

This stress­ful mu­si­cal of loud, hys­ter­i­cal songs feels much longer than it should be as it clear­ly be­lieves that every char­ac­ter must have their own mo­ment to sing and shine to the detri­ment of the movie’s own fo­cus, and its pedes­tri­an sense of hu­mor makes it even more ir­ri­tat­ing.

Hale Coun­ty This Morn­ing, This Evening (2018)

The kind of ethno­graph­ic record that proves that di­rect ob­ser­va­tion can some­times be more re­veal­ing than any sort of lec­tur­ing, but the only prob­lem is that it is hard to feel in­vest­ed in what some­one wants to show you when not even he re­al­ly seems that in­ter­est­ed in his sub­jects.

Hall Pass (2011)

Bet­ter than just be­ing fun­ny and mak­ing good use of that bawdy hu­mor that the Far­rel­ly broth­ers are well known for, this is a de­li­cious com­e­dy that works be­cause of its char­ac­ters, who earn our sym­pa­thy with­out any ef­fort in a sto­ry that can be touch­ing and is full of heart.

Hal­lelu­jah (1929)

It is ad­mirable that Vi­dor want­ed to show “the South­ern Ne­gro as he is” in this his­tor­i­cal­ly im­por­tant, all-black mu­si­cal film in­tend­ed for a gen­er­al au­di­ence as an au­then­tic rep­re­sen­ta­tion of black cul­ture in the 1920s, but it is also un­for­tu­nate­ly very con­de­scend­ing and ar­ti­fi­cial.

The Hal­low (2015)

It has some clichés here and there that could have been avoid­ed and the char­ac­ters some­times don’t seem to be the bright­est peo­ple in this sort of sit­u­a­tion, but still this at­mos­pher­ic hor­ror movie works quite well, es­pe­cial­ly in a sec­ond half that can be re­al­ly un­nerv­ing.

Hal­loween (1978)

Like the mag­nif­i­cent Texas Chain Saw Mas­sacre that came out only four years be­fore it, this ruth­less and ter­ri­fy­ing clas­sic of the 1970s has been of ma­jor in­flu­ence on the mod­ern hor­ror genre, care­ful­ly build­ing up its ten­sion and con­stant sense of men­ace to a nerve-wrack­ing de­gree.

Hal­loween II (1981)

A ter­ri­ble, use­less se­quel that in­vests in mind­less gore in­stead of cre­at­ing any real ten­sion, and it is ridicu­lous (and dis­ap­point­ing) how it turns Michael My­ers into an in­de­struc­tible mon­ster and leaves the rest of the cast to be mere bod­ies for slaugh­ter.

Hal­loween III: Sea­son of the Witch (1982)

A mediocre movie that feels more like an episode of an an­thol­o­gy se­ries stretched for 98 min­utes (with shades of In­va­sion of the Body Snatch­ers and even James Bond), and it takes too long to gain mo­men­tum and move into high gear to make us care about its stu­pid plot.

Hal­loween 4: The Re­turn of Michael My­ers (1988)

The movie’s hi­lar­i­ous dis­re­gard for log­ic makes it def­i­nite­ly more en­ter­tain­ing than its two ter­ri­ble pre­de­ces­sors, as it ful­ly em­braces the ab­surd (and is not even ashamed of do­ing so) and turns Michael Mey­ers into an in­de­struc­tible dev­il (or “evil on two legs”).

Hal­loween 5 (1989)

Don­ald Pleasence de­vour­ing the scenery is ba­si­cal­ly the only thing that makes this aw­ful se­quel less painful to watch, since every­thing else is a bla­tant dis­play of in­com­pe­tence from every­one in­volved in mak­ing this hap­pen — es­pe­cial­ly the amount of peo­ple who wrote it.

Hal­loween: The Curse of Michael My­ers (1995)

While not as com­plete­ly abysmal as Hal­loween 5, the plot is non­sen­si­cal and the movie ba­si­cal­ly re­lies on cheap bumps and deaf­en­ing chords to let us know when to jump. Be­sides, what can be cheesi­er than light­nings and thun­der used just for ef­fect when there is nev­er even rain?

Hal­loween H20: 20 Years Lat­er (1998)

Be­sides a stu­pid ti­tle that has noth­ing to do with wa­ter and some bland char­ac­ters who are just there to die, at least this sev­enth Hal­loween movie has some orig­i­nal mo­ments and fun deaths, even if the build-up is much bet­ter than the pay­off (which is rather dumb, I would say).

Hal­loween (2007)

The only good thing in this ter­ri­ble re­make (so rock ’n’ roll that it could have only been made by Rob Zom­bie) is the mu­sic, since the set­up is long to the point of te­dious and the movie sim­ply de­gen­er­ates into brain­less gore with no imag­i­na­tion or real ten­sion.

Hal­loween (2018)

There is a big dif­fer­ence be­tween pay­ing trib­ute and re­cy­cling, and so it shocks me that, af­ter 40 years of crap­py se­quels and more slash­ers, peo­ple still don’t get what made the orig­i­nal film so good, with this be­ing just an­oth­er un­o­rig­i­nal bun­dle of clichés full of dumb char­ac­ters.

Hand in Hand (2012)

Af­ter her ridicu­lous De­c­la­ra­tion of War, Donzel­li comes up with an­oth­er hate­ful hip­ster lit­tle film — a pre­ten­tious mess that proves again that she does­n’t have any un­der­stand­ing of nar­ra­tive struc­ture, and so it is only con­fus­ing about what it wants to be (and say).

The Hand­maid­’s Tale (1990)

We can see the male vi­sion be­hind this adap­ta­tion from how me­chan­i­cal it feels, as though it is only con­cerned about rou­tine­ly telling the sto­ry of a dystopi­an so­ci­ety but with­out car­ing to ex­plore what makes it so rel­e­vant as a fem­i­nist tale — which is also a fault of its lack of nar­ra­tion.

The Hand­maid­en (2016)

Park Chan-Wook ex­plores the pow­er of nar­ra­tive (the way you tell a sto­ry and its ram­i­fi­ca­tions), cre­at­ing an­oth­er as­tound­ing vi­su­al spec­ta­cle full of dark hu­mor, sex­u­al de­sire, be­tray­al and re­venge, with in­tense per­for­mances and a won­der­ful pro­duc­tion de­sign, edit­ing and score.

The Hang­over (2009)

What makes this hi­lar­i­ous com­e­dy stand out is how it works as a great com­bo of well-de­vel­oped char­ac­ters, non-stop laughs from be­gin­ning to end and ab­surd, un­pre­dictable plot that should cer­tain­ly make this movie be re­gard­ed in the years to come as a clas­sic cult com­e­dy.

The Hang­over Part II (2011)

A pa­thet­ic ex­cuse for a se­quel, ac­tu­al­ly more of a lazy re­hash than any­thing else. Every­thing is so bor­ing and pre­dictable, the jokes are dis­gust­ing and not at all fun­ny, and Zach Gal­i­fi­anakis is ab­solute­ly un­bear­able. But at least it has Ed Helms.

The Hang­over Part III (2013)

A lazy at­tempt at some­thing dif­fer­ent from the pre­vi­ous films, de­part­ing so much from them in every way pos­si­ble that it can’t even jus­ti­fy be­ing part of the same fran­chise — and it is odi­ous, un­o­rig­i­nal and un­for­giv­ably un­fun­ny, with each aw­ful joke worse than the one be­fore.

Han­na (2011)

This av­er­age thriller with tones of fairy tale fea­tures styl­ish edit­ing and an elec­tri­fy­ing score, and it is par­tic­u­lar­ly ef­fi­cient in the ex­cit­ing fight­ing and ac­tion scenes but not so in­ter­est­ing when show­ing the char­ac­ter’s adap­ta­tion in a world she only knew via an en­cy­clo­pe­dia.

Han­nah and Her Sis­ters (1986)

What makes this film so spe­cial and un­for­get­table — right there with its flaw­less struc­ture, im­pec­ca­ble di­rec­tion, three-di­men­sion­al char­ac­ters and phe­nom­e­nal di­a­logue — is how Woody Allen is won over by such a sur­pris­ing amount of op­ti­mism, and the re­sult is just per­fec­tion.

Han­nah Arendt (2012)

While the di­a­logue is at times repet­i­tive and even ex­pos­i­to­ry, the rather el­lip­tic plot suf­fers from the fact that the pro­tag­o­nist re­mains a near­ly in­scrutable puz­zle dur­ing most of the time — but by the end when her mo­ti­va­tions are fi­nal­ly made clear, it all fits per­fect­ly into place.

Han­ni­bal (2001)

It is a pity that the psy­cho­log­i­cal com­plex­i­ty of the pre­vi­ous film gives place to a bloat­ed and not so en­gag­ing cat-and-mouse game that lacks the chem­istry be­tween the two char­ac­ters and has a rather frus­trat­ing end­ing, be­ing only worth it be­cause of Lecter.

Han­ni­bal Ris­ing (2007)

Not only an un­nec­es­sary pre­quel but also ter­ri­bly writ­ten: over­long, filled with clichés and ridicu­lous di­a­logue, and fail­ing to de­pict the char­ac­ter’s evo­lu­tion to be­come a mon­ster in a be­liev­able way — and Gas­pard Ul­liel is ab­solute­ly aw­ful.

The Hap­pi­est Girl in the World (2009)

A de­light­ful film that finds a per­fect bal­ance be­tween fun­ny and sad as it de­picts the strain of fam­i­ly re­la­tion­ships from the point of view of a teenage girl un­der pres­sure, mak­ing even fun of con­sumerism and the dif­fi­cul­ties of shoot­ing a film/commercial in the process.

Hap­pi­ness Nev­er Comes Alone (2012)

This ro­man­tic com­e­dy is no ex­am­ple of orig­i­nal­i­ty — and it knows that, since it makes wel­come ref­er­ences to clas­sic works mir­rored in this love fa­ble — but it is a de­light­ful sto­ry that ben­e­fits from a good chem­istry be­tween the leads with a lot of charm and a hi­lar­i­ous phys­i­cal hu­mor.

Hap­py as Laz­zaro (2018)

A man is a wolf to an­oth­er man in this charm­ing lit­tle fa­ble — a film that may be too sim­ple in its sym­bol­ic pur­pose (and at times even dull) but man­ages to be a sol­id so­cial com­men­tary as it fol­lows a pas­sive pro­tag­o­nist who is too kind not to be crushed by the world around him.

Hap­py Death Day (2017)

Of course the idea is not the most orig­i­nal, but at least this is an ef­fec­tive com­bi­na­tion of slash­er film and Ground­hog Day that can be quite fun­ny and en­ter­tain­ing, with nice twists, in­spired deaths and a killing per­for­mance by Jes­si­ca Rothe that makes it worth the watch.

Hap­py Death Day 2U (2019)

The thrills are over, the hu­mor is prac­ti­cal­ly non-ex­is­tent, the rules have be­come ridicu­lous­ly messy and so has the plot try­ing to seem smart and com­plex at every turn, which only proves that this kind of premise re­quires some­one with real imag­i­na­tion to make any sense of it.

Hap­py End (2017)

Al­though I like to see Haneke ex­plor­ing mod­ern tech­nol­o­gy, he seems more in­ter­est­ed in craft­ing a com­pi­la­tion of some of his best mo­ments from pre­vi­ous films, which makes this cyn­i­cal fam­i­ly dra­ma feel like more of the same and less hard-hit­ting or cyn­i­cal as it should be.

Hap­py-Go-Lucky (2008)

A re­fresh­ing film that will leave you smil­ing, with a cheer­ful char­ac­ter that may at first be mis­tak­en for sim­ple-mind­ed in her con­stant op­ti­mism but lat­er on proves to be much more com­plex in the way she sees things — which Sal­ly Hawkins does a won­der­ful job in show­ing.

The Hap­py Prince (2018)

Everett di­rects his de­but fea­ture with such a heavy hand, us­ing a lot of ex­pos­i­to­ry di­a­logue and com­ing up with ar­ti­fi­cial scenes that make it seem like a lame soap opera. Be­sides, his Os­car Wilde is al­most a car­i­ca­ture, and his in­ten­tions get com­plete­ly lost in their tran­si­tion to the screen.

Hard La­bor (2011)

What this cu­ri­ous film does best is use a com­pelling mys­tery to elic­it a con­stant feel­ing of un­ease and dis­com­fort with­out us know­ing why (or with­out us know­ing if there is any threat at all), mix­ing gen­res when we are least ex­pect­ing it and be­com­ing a sur­pris­ing­ly sharp so­cial com­men­tary.

Hard­core Hen­ry (2015)

See the won­ders that can be made with Go­Pro, like this fast-paced, heart-pound­ing and even hi­lar­i­ous “video game movie” that puts us in the shoes of its pro­tag­o­nist in the mid­dle of a cat-and-mouse hunt and nev­er ceas­es to sur­prise us with spec­tac­u­lar stunts that are wor­thy of every award imag­in­able.

Harold and Maude (1971)

A lov­able film that con­tin­ues to res­onate for long af­ter it is over and makes you wish it would nev­er end — and the best about it is how the re­la­tion­ship be­tween the char­ac­ters evolves in such an hon­est way, with a lot of hu­mor and melan­choly to the sound of Cat Stevens’ sweet songs.

Har­ri­et (2019)

Rush­ing through any sort of plot or char­ac­ter de­vel­op­ment, this tame bi­og­ra­phy un­folds like a short­er ver­sion of a big­ger film, to the point we can’t even feel Har­ri­et’s evo­lu­tion as some­thing grad­ual. Be­sides, noth­ing can for­give it from be­ing so ridicu­lous­ly preachy and soapy.

Har­ry Pot­ter and the Sor­cer­er’s Stone (2001)

A de­cent adap­ta­tion that is al­most iden­ti­cal to the book, re­ly­ing on re­mark­able tech­ni­cal as­pects and on Rowl­ing’s im­pres­sive imag­i­na­tion (yet with not much added by Colum­bus), and it should def­i­nite­ly please the fans and en­ter­tain every­one else.

Har­ry Pot­ter and the Cham­ber of Se­crets (2002)

This sec­ond movie is slight­ly su­pe­ri­or to the first one in some as­pects, as the sto­ry flows in a bet­ter pace and the mys­tery is more grad­u­al­ly de­vel­oped. Again, the tech­ni­cal as­pects are out­stand­ing and this adap­ta­tion should please those who en­joyed the orig­i­nal one.

Har­ry Pot­ter and the Pris­on­er of Azk­a­ban (2004)

Cuarón is def­i­nite­ly a bet­ter di­rec­tor for this adap­ta­tion than Colum­bus, since this is a dark­er, more char­ac­ter-cen­tered sto­ry com­pared to the pre­vi­ous two, and the re­sult is more con­densed and not so faith­ful, which works for the best as it leaves out some of the book’s few prob­lems.

Har­ry Pot­ter and the Gob­let of Fire (2005)

Newell does a great job con­dens­ing an enor­mous book so full of de­tails, even if the film feels in­evitably rushed, while the fan­tas­tic per­for­mances and first-rate tech­ni­cal as­pects con­tribute for a sto­ry that is dark­er and more ur­gent than be­fore as the char­ac­ters reach ado­les­cence.

Har­ry Pot­ter and the Or­der of the Phoenix (2007)

The sweet­ness of the first sto­ries seems now en­tire­ly gone, with this one adopt­ing a much more se­ri­ous tone, and Yates man­ages to con­dense the longest (and weak­est) book into a de­cent film even if it feels more like a tran­si­tion chap­ter be­tween the fourth and sixth chap­ters.

Har­ry Pot­ter and the Half-Blood Prince (2009)

The most ma­ture book to date is adapt­ed into a beau­ti­ful­ly paced film with a greater fo­cus on the char­ac­ters’ per­son­al dra­ma, and it may feel like not much is hap­pen­ing when in fact many con­flicts arise. I only miss the glo­ri­ous end of the nov­el, which be­comes here a more in­ti­mate con­fronta­tion.

Har­ry Pot­ter and the Death­ly Hal­lows: Part 1 (2010)

This first part of the last chap­ter is def­i­nite­ly the best of the se­ries, more con­cerned about the dra­ma than the ac­tion, with a per­fect pace and an in­tel­li­gent script that wise­ly fo­cus­es more on the emo­tion­al weari­ness of its char­ac­ters, which un­for­tu­nate­ly may not please every­body.

Har­ry Pot­ter and the Death­ly Hal­lows: Part 2 (2011)

A sol­id, sat­is­fy­ing con­clu­sion to the se­ries even if a bit un­der­whelm­ing, in­vest­ing more in a des­o­late, melan­choly tone than some­thing more dev­as­tat­ing and dra­mat­ic, and it has ex­cel­lent per­for­mances, main­ly Alan Rick­man as one of the most com­plex char­ac­ters of the se­ries.

Har­vey (1950)

This sweet movie is adorable like James Stew­art’s char­ac­ter, who charms us dis­trib­ut­ing busi­ness cards and be­ing nice to every­one that he meets, while Josephine Hull de­served the Os­car she won for her hi­lar­i­ous, on-the-edge-of-hys­te­ria per­for­mance.

Hatari! (1962)

A plot­less (and in­ter­minable) trav­el­ogue that seems more like a cheap ex­cuse for Hawks to spend va­ca­tion in Africa, and it is hard to em­pathize with hunters work­ing to catch an­i­mals for zoos (I was root­ing for the rhi­nos) but at least the char­ac­ters are charis­mat­ic (de­spite the ca­su­al sex­ism).

The Hate­ful Eight (2015)

It is cu­ri­ous that Taran­ti­no chose to make a cham­ber film us­ing the ex­treme­ly wide Ul­tra Panav­i­sion 70 and yet cre­ates a claus­tro­pho­bic ex­pe­ri­ence that also works as a sharp al­le­go­ry of Amer­i­ca, even if it has some pac­ing prob­lems (es­pe­cial­ly with the in­tru­sive chap­ter five).

Haunter (2013)

Even though it lacks enough scares for a hor­ror film and is a bit more pre­dictable than it has any right to be, this is an ef­fi­cient new spin on the haunt­ed house movie with a mys­tery that can be quite com­pelling when you have no idea what it ac­tu­al­ly is about.

The Haunt­ing (1963)

A so­phis­ti­cat­ed Goth­ic tale that does­n’t show us any­thing that would ac­tu­al­ly fright­en us to death but still man­ages to cre­ate an eerie sense of dread as it probes into the psy­cho­log­i­cal and emo­tion­al un­bal­ance faced by its pro­tag­o­nist and blurs the line be­tween re­al­i­ty and il­lu­sion.

The Haunt­ing in Con­necti­cut (2009)

Though it does have its mo­ments and a nice, creepy at­mos­phere, it seems more like a movie made for TV, with cheap pro­duc­tion val­ues, a lot of an­noy­ing clichés and a de­riv­a­tive plot that brings to mind a thou­sand bet­ter hor­ror films that you could be watch­ing in­stead.

Haute Cui­sine (2012)

Though en­joy­able to watch, this film seems point­less and triv­ial, as it mere­ly fol­lows a woman in charge of prepar­ing the meals for the Pres­i­dent of France — and it nev­er of­fers any real con­flict to jus­ti­fy its ex­is­tence.

Le Havre (2011)

Even if not spe­cial or mem­o­rable, this is an en­joy­able film that in­vests well in a the­atri­cal tone to tell a sim­ple sto­ry. A comedic dra­ma that makes cu­ri­ous use of a fa­ble-like il­lu­mi­na­tion and af­fect­ed per­for­mances to turn a po­ten­tial­ly dense dra­ma into a light, fun­ny ex­pe­ri­ence.

Hay­wire (2011)

If you’ve ever won­dered what Mis­sion Im­pos­si­ble or Kill Bill would have been like if made by Soder­bergh, now you have the an­swer. The fight scenes are pret­ty ef­fi­cient but the for­mu­la­ic plot holds no sur­pris­es, with ir­reg­u­lar pac­ing and ap­a­thet­ic ac­tion scenes.

The Head­less Woman (2008)

With an ex­em­plary cin­e­matog­ra­phy, Mar­tel shapes a sim­ple hit-and-run premise into an in­tel­li­gent (and un­pre­dictable) so­cial com­men­tary — on race, class and gen­der is­sues — as well as a de­lib­er­ate char­ac­ter study that forces us to share the char­ac­ter’s psy­cho­log­i­cal dis­ori­en­ta­tion.

Head­winds (2011)

Benoît Mag­imel is a good ac­tor and the film knows how to ex­plore its bleak, grey lo­ca­tions, but this is noth­ing but a dull and sil­ly man’s flick that lacks fo­cus and does­n’t seem to know what kind of sto­ry it ac­tu­al­ly wants to tell.

Heart of Amer­i­ca (2002)

While Ele­phant, on one hand, fo­cused on the time and space fac­tors that con­verge un­re­lat­ed peo­ple to those trag­ic in­ci­dents, Uwe Boll is more con­cerned about the char­ac­ters — and this is a sym­pa­thet­ic and sur­pris­ing­ly mov­ing dra­ma that re­lies on de­cent per­for­mances.

Heart­beats (2010)

A spec­tac­u­lar film that left me as­ton­ished, since Xavier Dolan is so young but so in­cred­i­bly tal­ent­ed and full of ideas, which he proves once again, star­ring, di­rect­ing and pro­duc­ing this fas­ci­nat­ing work about pas­sion, ob­ses­sion and the ide­al­ized na­ture of un­re­quit­ed love.

Heat (1995)

An in­tense and very com­plex char­ac­ter study with Pa­ci­no and De Niro de­liv­er­ing two ex­plo­sive per­for­mances as men so alike but on op­po­site sides of the same bat­tle. Still, the film has too many char­ac­ters and scenes that make it feel much longer than it should be.

Heathers (1988)

A cyn­i­cal and in­tel­li­gent satire that de­serves cred­it for its de­li­cious­ly wit­ty di­a­logue, great per­for­mances and a clever game of col­ors that con­trasts blue and red, even if the film is a bit tonal­ly dis­so­nant when it be­comes too se­ri­ous and dark in its third act.

Heav­en Knows What (2014)

It is like Chris­tiane F. writ­ten by Har­mo­ny Ko­rine — which is cer­tain­ly not a com­pli­ment -, a film that comes as an­oth­er re­al­iza­tion that re­al­is­tic (which it def­i­nite­ly is) does­n’t nec­es­sar­i­ly mean good, as it fol­lows the emp­ty lives of a bunch of hate­ful peo­ple who are not wor­thy of our time.

He­leno (2011)

It re­al­ly looks like a film made in the 1940s or 50s with Wal­ter Car­val­ho’s splen­did black-and-white cin­e­matog­ra­phy, and Ro­dri­go San­toro im­press­es as an ar­ro­gant man who could have eas­i­ly alien­at­ed us, but it is a pity that the re­sult feels rather dry and jumpy with its flash­backs.

Hell­rais­er (1987)

A gory, trashy cult clas­sic of the genre with an in­ter­est­ing (and very dis­turb­ing) idea, fas­ci­nat­ing vil­lains and a great make­up that stands out above all else, yet on the oth­er hand the poor spe­cial ef­fects and cheesy mo­ments make it feel like a sec­ond-rate hor­ror movie.

Hell­rais­er: Dead­er (2005)

It is like two com­plete­ly dif­fer­ent — but equal­ly aw­ful — ideas/stories that got stitched to­geth­er into an in­com­pre­hen­si­ble movie that makes no sense, and to top all that the di­a­logue is just as aw­ful, as well as the am­a­teur­ish di­rec­tion, cin­e­matog­ra­phy and edit­ing.

The Help (2011)

Al­though Vi­o­la Davis of­fers a fan­tas­tic per­for­mance here, this dis­gust­ing melo­dra­ma is much more con­cerned about mak­ing you cry than say­ing any­thing mean­ing­ful, while most of the char­ac­ters are one-di­men­sion­al and sev­er­al un­nec­es­sary de­tails are con­stant­ly added to the sto­ry with the sole pur­pose of cheap sen­ti­men­tal­i­ty.

Hel­ter Skel­ter (1976)

De­spite be­ing too clin­i­cal some­times but with a fan­tas­tic per­for­mance by Steve Rails­back as Charles Man­son, this is an ab­sorb­ing and dis­turb­ing ac­count of the in­ves­ti­ga­tion and pros­e­cu­tion of Man­son and his “fam­i­ly” fol­low­ing their hor­rif­ic mass mur­ders in the 1960s.

Hen­ry: Por­trait of a Se­r­i­al Killer (1986)

Apart from the sol­id per­for­mances, there’s lit­tle else to praise in this mediocre film that mis­tak­en­ly be­lieves that re­sort­ing to shock­ing, pur­pose­less vi­o­lence is enough to draw what it as­sumes to be the “por­trait of a se­r­i­al killer,” in­stead of de­vel­op­ing his mo­ti­va­tions.

Her (2013)

For those of us who are or have ever been in love, this aching­ly beau­ti­ful ro­mance hits the right notes of del­i­ca­cy and sen­si­bil­i­ty about the hu­man need to share our lives with some­one who is ac­tu­al­ly a pro­jec­tion of our own ex­pec­ta­tions — which does not make these feel­ings any less real.

Her­cules (1997)

It is ir­ri­tat­ing enough that they al­ter most of the orig­i­nal leg­end just for the sake of do­ing so, but the real prob­lem here is that the jokes and pop ref­er­ences to mod­ern times and Amer­i­can cul­ture are far from smart and get tired fast, with the third act be­ing a sil­ly, un­ex­cit­ing mess.

Hér­cules 56 (2006)

The strength of this slow­ly ab­sorb­ing doc­u­men­tary lies in the pow­er of the first-hand tes­ti­monies that we hear, as they can be quite fas­ci­nat­ing some­times and com­pen­sate for a de­cid­ed ex­cess of talk­ing that may be a bit weari­some and not very cin­e­mat­ic for some view­ers.

Here We Are Wait­ing for You (1999)

An in­tel­li­gent and dy­nam­ic film es­say made in the vein of Koy­aanisqat­si (which is also a po­et­ic col­lage of im­ages us­ing min­i­mal­ist mu­sic) and in­spired by Dzi­ga Ver­tov and Eisen­stein’s in­tel­lec­tu­al mon­tage, and yet tru­ly unique and thought-pro­vok­ing on its own with its true-to-life po­lit­i­cal am­bi­tions.

Here­after (2010)

Clint still seems ob­sessed with the mor­tal­i­ty is­sue, but it is clear that he does­n’t know what he is do­ing with this es­o­teric bab­ble that lacks fo­cus and pur­pose, pre­sent­ing three poor­ly-writ­ten sto­ries com­bined with­out any flu­id­ness and lead­ing to a corny end­ing that is sim­ply lam­en­ta­ble.

Hid­den (2015)

The last twen­ty min­utes are so ter­ri­ble they al­most ruin an ex­cel­lent first hour that knows how to de­vel­op a grip­ping mys­tery and keep us ter­ri­fied — which only proves that some­times sim­pler is bet­ter as op­posed to too much in­for­ma­tion lead­ing to plot holes and in­con­sis­ten­cies.

The Hid­den Face (2011)

What seems to be­gin as a ghost sto­ry full of the most ba­sic, worn-out clichés soon turns out to be an iron­ic, claus­tro­pho­bic and orig­i­nal idea that clev­er­ly plays with the con­ven­tions of the genre, even if it ends though on an un­sat­is­fy­ing note.

A Hid­den Life (2019)

Mal­ick is back to nar­ra­tives with a more well-de­fined plot af­ter a se­ries of more im­pres­sion­is­tic en­deav­ors, em­ploy­ing his usu­al con­tem­pla­tive ap­proach to ex­plore the in­ner con­flicts and fears faced by an ad­mirable man who would not be­tray his prin­ci­ples and em­brace a grotesque ide­ol­o­gy.

High Life (2018)

I find it frus­trat­ing and un­der­whelm­ing that De­nis pur­pose­ly leaves so much to the imag­i­na­tion when it comes to what she means with this film, al­though she knows how to build an un­set­tling at­mos­phere and ben­e­fits even more from let­ting us slow­ly dis­cov­er by our­selves what the plot is about.

High Noon (1952)

At first the char­ac­ter’s ir­ra­tional in­sis­tence to stay in the city may be a puz­zle for the view­er (and an in­fu­ri­at­ing con­trivance), but soon it re­veals a fas­ci­nat­ing com­plex­i­ty about him in this su­perbly edit­ed West­ern that re­lies on a vis­cer­al per­for­mance by Coop­er (and his bleed­ing ul­cer).

Hill of Plea­sures (2013)

In the third film of her “jus­tice tril­o­gy,” Maria Ramos puts a much greater ef­fort in try­ing to re­pro­duce the aes­thet­ics of fic­tion­al cin­e­ma, which seems more like mere ar­ti­fice; still, she is able to lay bare the com­plex­i­ty of a del­i­cate con­flict that ap­pears to have no so­lu­tion.

The Hills Have Eyes (1977)

A cheap rip-off of The Texas Chain­saw Mas­sacre with vil­lains who are dis­gust­ing per­verts that you want to see dead and main char­ac­ters who act re­al­ly stu­pid most of the time. By the end, it has no room for any moral ques­tions, for a mat­ter of life and death jus­ti­fies any­thing.

The Hills Have Eyes (2006)

I can’t see any good rea­son to re­make a bad movie chang­ing the na­ture of the de­praved vil­lains but keep­ing all of those lame faults found in the orig­i­nal movie — es­pe­cial­ly char­ac­ters who are ir­ri­tat­ing­ly stu­pid and the only smart one be­ing the dog.

The Hills of Dis­or­der (2006)

De­spite the am­a­teur­ish edit­ing (with an aw­ful amount of dis­solves), un­even cin­e­matog­ra­phy and a messy be­gin­ning, this huge­ly ab­sorb­ing com­bi­na­tion of doc­u­men­tary and fic­tion ob­serves more than it says and is el­e­vat­ed by the strength of what it shows and the re­flec­tion it pro­vokes.

Hills­bor­ough (2016)

A hard watch and dev­as­tat­ing ex­am­i­na­tion of a hor­ri­ble dis­as­ter and the re­volt­ing cam­paign car­ried out by those re­spon­si­ble to dis­cred­it the vic­tims, and it shows in de­tails the pain caused to the sur­vivors and fam­i­lies of the vic­tims as well as their ef­forts to seek jus­tice.

Hi­roshi­ma Mon Amour (1955)

Mak­ing use of real footage of the hor­rors in Hi­roshi­ma, un­par­al­leled edit­ing with long dis­solves and flash­backs to sug­gest ob­tru­sive mem­o­ries, two mag­nif­i­cent cen­tral per­for­mances and a lyri­cal di­a­logue by Mar­guerite Duras, Alain Resnais cre­ates a sub­lime, un­for­get­table clas­sic.

His Girl Fri­day (1940)

I guess the term “screw­ball” could­n’t be more well il­lus­trat­ed than by this laugh-out-loud com­e­dy whose char­ac­ters shoot their over­lap­ping lines in an in­sane­ly fre­net­ic rhythm, with Grant and Rus­sell sim­ply hi­lar­i­ous and dis­play­ing an enor­mous chem­istry to­geth­er.

The His­to­ry of Eter­ni­ty (2014)

With an out­stand­ing cin­e­matog­ra­phy and mise-en-scène, this gor­geous film has at least two scenes that are un­for­get­table in their sub­lime beau­ty, while nar­ra­tive-wise it of­fers a del­i­cate and deeply po­et­ic sto­ry about peo­ple im­pris­oned in their own ex­is­tences.

Hitch (2005)

It is sad to see a tal­ent­ed ac­tor like Will Smith wast­ed in such an id­i­ot­ic ro­man­tic com­e­dy — a movie that is sil­ly and im­plau­si­ble, full of clichés, ridicu­lous sit­u­a­tions, un­fun­ny gags, painful di­a­logue and with an ex­treme­ly corny and em­bar­rass­ing end­ing.

Hitch­cock (2012)

Bear­ing no re­sem­blance to the real Hitch­cock, Hop­kins seems like a car­i­ca­ture in a biopic that is only in­trigu­ing when it shows the pro­duc­tion of Psy­cho but nev­er when it fo­cus­es on his per­son­al life — where mar­i­tal con­flicts and an imag­i­nary Ed Gein are sad­ly con­trived.

Hitchcock/Truffaut (2015)

What could have been a more per­cep­tive dis­cus­sion about Truf­faut’s sem­i­nal book turns out to be frus­trat­ing­ly su­per­fi­cial in­stead, mov­ing quick­ly from one top­ic to the next with­out much sense of fo­cus and not man­ag­ing to of­fer much in­sight be­yond the most rev­er­en­tial ob­vi­ous.

The Hob­bit: An Un­ex­pect­ed Jour­ney (2012)

The com­mer­cial pur­pose is ob­vi­ous when such a short and light book is split into three films in a clear at­tempt to recre­ate the epic great­ness of The Lord of the Rings. So, the tone seems a bit ir­reg­u­lar (with noth­ing re­al­ly ur­gent) but the sto­ry man­ages to be flu­id and en­ter­tain­ing.

The Hob­bit: The Des­o­la­tion of Smaug (2013)

Jack­son con­tin­ues to stretch this pa­per-thin sto­ry to a very mas­sive length that nev­er re­al­ly jus­ti­fies such mea­sure, and its split­ting into par­al­lel plots di­lutes some of its fo­cus while the ex­ces­sive use of dei ex ma­chi­nis re­duces the ur­gency it so des­per­ate­ly aims for.

The Hob­bit: The Bat­tle of the Five Armies (2014)

It is all pay­off (a very long one by the way) and no set­up, and even if it is nice to look at and gets mod­er­ate­ly ex­cit­ing to­wards the end, it is cold and for­get­table just like the pre­vi­ous films and shows (again) that it all should have been made into one (or two) film(s) only.

Hold Back (2012)

With a nat­u­ral­is­tic ap­proach that makes use of grainy vi­su­als and an ap­pro­pri­ate hand­held cam­era, this ur­ban dra­ma makes a state­ment against in­tol­er­ance and hypocrisy even though it re­sorts to some cheap nar­ra­tive tricks and is not re­al­ly sure how to end.

Hold­ing the Man (2015)

The jumps in time can be a bit dis­tract­ing (even though I un­der­stand the point and it makes sense for the film to be struc­tured like that), but this is a very sad, trag­ic sto­ry told in a very hon­est way and with ex­cel­lent per­for­mances by Ryan Corr, Craig Stott and An­tho­ny La­Paglia.

The Hole (1998)

The mu­si­cal num­bers don’t al­ways fit or­gan­i­cal­ly with­in the sto­ry, but Tsai’s bleak idea of a post-apoc­a­lyp­tic Tai­wan un­der con­stant rain and in max­i­mum lit­er­al iso­la­tion is a pow­er­ful one as he pic­tures mod­ern dis­con­nect­ed peo­ple turn­ing into cock­roach­es in the mid­dle of garbage.

Hol­i­day (1938)

Ahead of its time, this ro­man­tic com­e­dy sug­gests that hap­pi­ness may be found in free­dom, away from the per­ni­cious wealth of high so­ci­ety — but it is also a bit naive, re­duc­ing the com­plex­i­ty of its themes to mat­ters of right and wrong while end­ing with an easy, pre­dictable res­o­lu­tion.

The Hol­i­day (2006)

Cameron Diaz and Jack Black are com­plete­ly mis­cast in this in­ter­minable movie that only proves (again) what an aw­ful writer and di­rec­tor Nan­cy Mey­ers is, in­ca­pable of defin­ing the tone of her sto­ry and com­ing up with only lame char­ac­ters, crap­py lines and lu­di­crous sit­u­a­tions.

The Holy Girl (2004)

Where­as in La Cié­na­ga Mar­tel was al­ways able to main­tain a tight struc­ture and fo­cus even with a huge gallery of char­ac­ters, in this case her no­tably flawed nar­ra­tive — de­spite her usu­al so­cial com­men­tary and a promis­ing premise — lacks co­he­sion and seems to go nowhere.

Holy Hell (2016)

A well-made and un­be­liev­able sto­ry that is too bizarre to be true, about the hor­rors of spir­i­tu­al cults and how a nar­cis­sist pri­ma don­na was able to de­ceive and con­trol for over twen­ty years the lives of a bunch of pa­thet­i­cal­ly naive peo­ple and make them serve him with ab­solute de­vo­tion.

Holy Mo­tors (2012)

An in­cred­i­bly ab­sorb­ing and thought-pro­vok­ing film that takes us in a mind-bog­gling jour­ney with a char­ac­ter that drifts from one role to the next in many puz­zling ren­dezvous and iden­ti­ties — a nar­ra­tive ex­per­i­ment that proves to be fas­ci­nat­ing and sur­pris­ing­ly mov­ing.

The Holy Moun­tain (1973)

This psy­che­del­ic, LSD-in­duced mas­ter­piece is not only vi­su­al­ly am­bi­tious, with an im­pec­ca­ble cin­e­matog­ra­phy and edit­ing, but also in­cred­i­bly imag­i­na­tive as it makes use of ar­che­types and sym­bol­ism in a bril­liant so­cial com­men­tary, and it is won­der­ful to see how the score helps cre­ate the per­fect at­mos­phere in each scene.

Home Alone (1990)

An en­ter­tain­ing (but over­rat­ed) Christ­mas fam­i­ly movie that may be thin and sil­ly (es­pe­cial­ly in its third act) but is also re­fresh­ing­ly fun­ny and ten­der, with a great Os­car-nom­i­nat­ed score by John Williams and hi­lar­i­ous per­for­mances by Culkin, Pesci and O’Hara.

Home Care (2015)

It may lack sub­tle­ty some­times when deal­ing with its sub­ject mat­ter, but even so this is a del­i­cate dra­ma that un­der­stands how the fear of death can make peo­ple em­brace ir­ra­tional be­liefs or any­thing that might give them com­fort against their own best judg­ment.

Homem Co­mum (2015)

It is not sur­pris­ing that Nad­er spent 20 years strug­gling to find a cen­ter and a pur­pose for his doc­u­men­tary, as we can see how he tries to force a par­al­lel be­tween a com­mon man’s life and Drey­er’s film and yet it be­comes too facile to ex­pect us view­ers to vi­su­al­ize a link there.

O Homem Que Vi­rou Suco (1980)

An hon­est and re­al­is­tic por­trait of pover­ty, class ex­ploita­tion and the strug­gles faced by those who move from the North­east of Brazil to the big cities in the South­east look­ing for a bet­ter life, even if the film’s third act feels a bit be­side the point com­pared to what came be­fore.

The Home­s­man (2014)

It is sad to see a film be­gin so well, re­ly­ing on stun­ning vi­su­als and an im­pres­sive per­for­mance by Swank, and then go down­hill in a sec­ond half that suf­fers from some se­ri­ous prob­lems of tone and does it­self a great dis­ser­vice by abrupt­ly shift­ing the lead role from her to Jones.

Hon­ey­moon (2014)

A sol­id psy­cho­log­i­cal hor­ror that takes its time to make us like its char­ac­ters and care about them be­fore in­vest­ing in a creepy, in­trigu­ing mys­tery. It is just a pity, though, that it does­n’t of­fer a more con­sis­tent pay­off and seems to wrap up too all of a sud­den.

Hood Movie: Is the City One Only? (2011)

Two jin­gles pro­vide a start­ing point for this in­trigu­ing fic­tion-doc­u­men­tary hy­brid film that sets out to ex­am­ine the abyss sep­a­rat­ing the il­lu­sion sold by the pow­er­ful peo­ple who launched the CEI and the grim re­al­i­ty faced by the poor who were ex­pelled of Brasil­ia in the ear­ly 1970s.

Horns (2013)

An in­suf­fer­ably dis­joint­ed and over­long film that has se­ri­ous trou­ble defin­ing the rules of its uni­verse and suf­fers from a messy struc­ture, ex­pos­i­to­ry nar­ra­tion, in­tru­sive flash­backs, pre­dictable rev­e­la­tions (when not ridicu­lous­ly sen­ti­men­tal) and a heap of clichés.

Hor­ri­ble Boss­es (2011)

Ir­ri­tat­ing to the point of al­most un­watch­able, with noth­ing re­mote­ly fun­ny about fol­low­ing these un­bear­able re­tards amid stu­pid gags and so many homophobic/racist/sexist re­marks — and Char­lie Day is an aw­ful ac­tor who thinks that yelling in a high pitch makes him fun­ny (it does­n’t).

Hos­tiles (2017)

Chris­t­ian Bale is ab­solute­ly tremen­dous, de­liv­er­ing a qui­et­ly in­tense per­for­mance in this bru­tal re­vi­sion­ist West­ern that care­ful­ly (yet in­ci­sive­ly) ex­am­ines the con­se­quences of a mer­ci­less cy­cle of ha­tred that only de­hu­man­izes peo­ple and turns them into beasts and mon­sters.

Hot Fuzz (2007)

With a fan­tas­tic di­rec­tion and Os­car-wor­thy edit­ing, it boasts a bril­liant script that com­bines hi­lar­i­ous com­e­dy, ex­hil­a­rat­ing ac­tion and clever thriller while pay­ing an in­cred­i­ble at­ten­tion to the small­est de­tails — though too re­strained with vi­o­lence in its cli­max.

Hot Girls Want­ed (2015)

De­spite its ten­den­cy to­wards mor­al­iz­ing, this is a re­veal­ing doc­u­men­tary that says a lot about those who en­joy feed­ing their sex­u­al fan­tasies with every­thing that is so misog­y­nist and de­grad­ing to women, from videos of teenag­er ma­nip­u­la­tion all the way to abuse sim­u­la­tions.

Ho­tel Mum­bai (2018)

I will not be sur­prised to see some peo­ple ac­cuse this film of ex­ploit­ing a real tragedy for the sake of en­ter­tain­ment, be­cause this is ex­act­ly what it feels like: a nerve-rack­ing ac­tion thriller made by some­one who is clear­ly more in­ter­est­ed in turn­ing the case into a genre ex­er­cise.

The Hour and Turn of Au­gus­to Ma­tra­ga (1965)

I re­al­ly want­ed to like this film, but truth is, it did­n’t re­sist very well the ac­tion of time and looks pret­ty dat­ed now, both struc­tural­ly and aes­thet­i­cal­ly (and can only be found now in hor­ri­ble qual­i­ty), de­spite of­fer­ing some good per­for­mances and a nice end­ing.

Hour of the Star (1985)

Cen­tered on a most sin­gu­lar hero­ine and sus­tained on im­pec­ca­ble per­for­mances, this is an ex­cel­lent char­ac­ter study that un­der­stands our in­nate need for af­fec­tion and can be in­cred­i­bly fun­ny in the sharp, in­tel­li­gent way that it ex­pos­es how pa­thet­ic peo­ple can be.

Hours (2013)

One of Paul Walk­er’s last films is this sus­pense­ful thriller that can be quite tense in a min­i­mal­ist way when not con­trived or melo­dra­mat­ic, yet it could have been set in any city hit by a fic­tion­al hur­ri­cane with­out the need of us­ing a real tragedy as a plot de­vice.

House (1986)

A de­li­cious com­bi­na­tion of hor­ror and goofy com­e­dy that is amus­ing and fun­ny (the rogue hand and the rac­coon scene are par­tic­u­lar­ly hi­lar­i­ous), and it works quite well even if its at­tempt to show the trau­ma­tiz­ing ef­fects of the Viet­nam War on vet­er­ans falls flat.

House at the End of the Street (2012)

A gener­ic, de­riv­a­tive and stu­pid Psy­cho rip-off that does­n’t mind in­sult­ing the view­er’s in­tel­li­gence all the way through, with a ridicu­lous twist that makes no sense and only makes it more than ev­i­dent that no one in­volved gave a crap about it.

The House at the End of Time (2013)

An un­even film that, de­spite too many clichés, has an in­ge­nious struc­ture and a good share of in­spired mo­ments — only it is a pity that these mo­ments are in ser­vice of a sto­ry that is so sil­ly and some­times so over the top that it even re­sem­bles a com­e­dy, or a self-par­o­dy.

The House Bun­ny (2008)

It does­n’t re­al­ly mat­ter that Anna Faris is such a great and hi­lar­i­ous ac­tress when she has to de­liv­er un­fun­ny lines in an un­fun­ny com­e­dy that usu­al­ly goes for the most pedes­tri­an jokes that you can think of and is en­tire­ly for­mu­la­ic and pre­dictable from be­gin­ning to end.

House of 1000 Corpses (2003)

An un­pleas­ant ex­pe­ri­ence akin to be­ing raped, or, in oth­er words, a stu­pid, un­scary and re­pel­lent gore fest that be­gins very well but then tries too hard to be “rock ’n’ roll” and full of style with an ir­ri­tat­ing large amount of ref­er­ences and aw­ful cut­away scenes in­sert­ed every­where.

The House of the Dev­il (2009)

Ti West ob­vi­ous­ly knows the genre in­side out, as he em­u­lates the style and feel of those hor­ror movies of the ’80s with ad­mirable skill (in­clud­ing the zooms) and spends a good time in the an­tic­i­pa­tion (maybe too long) to let ap­pre­hen­sion and ten­sion slow­ly set­tle in.

House of Tol­er­ance (2011)

A sad film about a group of pros­ti­tutes in a Parisian broth­el at the end of the 19th cen­tu­ry, with a very flu­id nar­ra­tive and a beau­ti­ful pro­duc­tion de­sign (and cin­e­matog­ra­phy) that ex­plores quite ef­fi­cient­ly the gloomy ro­man­tic view of be­ing a woman sub­mis­sive to men and their plea­sure.

House of Voic­es (2004)

The pro­duc­tion de­sign and cin­e­matog­ra­phy are stun­ning and help cre­ate an eerie at­mos­phere along with the melan­choly score, but the prob­lem is that the script nev­er makes the char­ac­ter’s grow­ing in­san­i­ty and ob­ses­sion any clear and turns out to be com­plete­ly emp­ty in the end.

House of Wax (2005)

An in­fu­ri­at­ing movie full of clichés and stu­pid char­ac­ters who are there only to be slaugh­tered in some juicy, grue­some deaths — which hap­pen to be the only ef­fec­tive thing in this id­i­ot­ic mess, I must add. But we have to go through a lot of noth­ing to get to the good part.

House on Haunt­ed Hill (1959)

So sil­ly and campy that it is like­ly to pro­voke more un­in­ten­tion­al laugh­ter than chills, giv­en its com­plete dis­dain for re­al­ism, co­her­ence and plau­si­bil­i­ty — like no­body able to hear a woman scream­ing that loud in the house or the lu­di­crous de­tails in­volv­ing the twist in the end.

The House That Jack Built (2018)

Lars von Tri­er reach­es the very apex of his ca­reer with this icon­ic (yes, that’s the word), hys­ter­i­cal­ly provoca­tive and baf­fling­ly rich piece of self-re­flec­tion that drags us to the bot­tom of (his) hell and tears not only into him­self as an artist/person but also the world we live in.

The House with a Clock in Its Walls (2018)

Kids will be trau­ma­tized and have night­mares for the rest of their lives af­ter watch­ing this hor­ror movie for chil­dren, while old­er view­ers are like­ly to find this an amus­ing (if harm­less) dark fa­ble that ben­e­fits from a nice pro­duc­tion de­sign and some good per­for­mances.

House­bound (2014)

A high­ly di­vert­ing blend of gory hor­ror and hi­lar­i­ous dark com­e­dy that works de­light­ful­ly well on both ends, and it is great to see how it eas­i­ly moves from one genre to an­oth­er and from one twist to the next while re­main­ing al­ways fresh, sur­pris­ing and un­pre­dictable.

How Nice to See You Alive (1989)

By pre­sent­ing tes­ti­mo­ny of sev­er­al women who were tor­tured dur­ing the mil­i­tary dic­ta­tor­ship while speak­ing about her own per­son­al ex­pe­ri­ence through an al­ter ego (Irene Ravache, su­perb), di­rec­tor Lú­cia Mu­rat con­fronts the view­er with the in­escapable truth and our duty to nev­er look away.

How Tasty Was My Lit­tle French­man (1971)

It draws more at­ten­tion for the cheesy make­up and how every­one ap­pears ful­ly naked on­screen con­sid­er­ing the time it was made (dur­ing Brazil­ian dic­ta­tor­ship with its filthy cen­sor­ship), but apart from that the film is more a cu­ri­ous his­to­ry les­son made in a wel­come nat­u­ral­is­tic style.

How to Change the World (2015)

Us­ing a great amount of pre­cious 16 mm reels, this is a re­mark­able ac­count of the ef­forts un­der­tak­en by the Green­peace or­ga­ni­za­tion in the ’70s and ’80s as an ex­tra­or­di­nary move­ment that set out to stop eco­log­i­cal crimes and had to deal with a lot of ten­sion in­side their own group.s in­side their own group.

How to Die in Ore­gon (2011)

Some­times wit­ness­ing can be much more pow­er­ful and trans­form­ing than sim­ple words, and I be­lieve that those who po­si­tion them­selves against as­sist­ed sui­cide should def­i­nite­ly watch this hu­mane (and dev­as­tat­ing) doc­u­men­tary that rais­es some nec­es­sary dis­cus­sions about choice and dig­ni­ty.

How to Mar­ry a Mil­lion­aire (1953)

Mon­roe and Ba­call are charm­ing and charis­mat­ic as ever, but in an only oc­ca­sion­al­ly amus­ing (yet out­dat­ed and rarely re­al­ly fun­ny) sto­ry about three women try­ing to catch a rich man to mar­ry — a plot that, let’s be hon­est, may not be every­one’s idea of a good, fun com­e­dy.

How to Sur­vive a Plague (2012)

An ex­treme­ly en­light­en­ing overview of that which was the most dev­as­tat­ing plague that hit the world in the past cen­tu­ry, and an es­sen­tial his­tor­i­cal doc­u­ment that shows how ac­tivism played the most im­por­tant role dur­ing the acme of the epi­dem­ic.

How to Train Your Drag­on (2010)

An en­ter­tain­ing an­i­ma­tion that ben­e­fits from an hon­est sto­ry and great vi­su­als, and it ap­proach­es its moral les­son with the lev­el of re­spect it de­serves and with­out re­ly­ing on be­ing cute or preachy — even though the end­ing is too easy and makes it lose some of its pow­er.

How to Train Your Drag­on 2 (2014)

While it choos­es the easy way in some as­pects (like Hic­cup and his fa­ther not feel­ing any re­sent­ment to­wards the woman who aban­doned them) it also makes up for that with mo­ments of more com­plex de­vel­op­ment (like Dra­go not chang­ing his mind with mere words), prov­ing to be a wor­thy se­quel to a nice movie.

How to Train Your Drag­on: The Hid­den World (2019)

No mat­ter how great it still looks, there is­n’t re­al­ly any­thing in this or­di­nary third movie that jus­ti­fies its be­ing made in the first place (ba­si­cal­ly it’s all more of the same), and I have the strong feel­ing it won’t take long for me to for­get its plot com­plete­ly.

Howl’s Mov­ing Cas­tle (2004)

While the plot may seem a bit de­riv­a­tive (as well as the score and the char­ac­ter­i­za­tions) when com­pared to Miyaza­k­i’s greater works, this cap­ti­vat­ing an­i­ma­tion is nev­er­the­less an en­ter­tain­ing ad­ven­ture of en­chant­i­ng vi­su­als and an al­ways de­li­cious sense of hu­mor.

The Howl­ing (1981)

The make­up and vi­su­al ef­fects are awe­some, es­pe­cial­ly in a ma­jor shape-shift­ing trans­for­ma­tion scene close to the end, while the cli­max is ef­fec­tive­ly tense to make the film worth it, but even so the script is rather weak, un­even and can be quite sil­ly and laugh­able some­times.

Hugo (2011)

Let’s be hon­est, it is dis­ap­point­ing to see a movie that wants to praise the mag­ic of Cin­e­ma but whose 3D does­n’t al­ways work so well, and it feels like two dif­fer­ent sto­ries clum­si­ly com­bined, with un­nec­es­sary sub­plots and a mediocre lead­ing per­for­mance by Asa But­ter­field.

Hu­man Cap­i­tal (2013)

A sharp and in­tel­li­gent so­cial com­men­tary with strong per­for­mances and a mul­ti­lay­ered nar­ra­tive that ex­am­ines the val­ue of hu­man life in our world and in­ter­weaves the per­spec­tives of three char­ac­ters to show the ir­re­me­di­a­ble im­pact that peo­ple have on each oth­er’s lives.

The Hu­man Cen­tipede (First Se­quence) (2009)

The mere idea is grotesque but the ex­e­cu­tion is not as re­pul­sive as the hype will lead you to think, and even if Di­eter Laser is tru­ly men­ac­ing as the mad doc­tor, the oth­er ac­tors are most­ly ter­ri­ble and the movie of­fers a lot more in­vol­un­tary hu­mor than ac­tu­al hor­ror.

The Hu­man Cen­tipede II (Full Se­quence) (2011)

Tom Six man­ages to cre­ate a dis­turb­ing at­mos­phere us­ing a black and white cin­e­matog­ra­phy and wide-an­gle shots, but this aw­ful se­quel drags for­ev­er with not enough ma­te­r­i­al to fill 90 min­utes and most of it is so vile and sick­en­ing that it just over­whelms what­ev­er mer­its it has.

The Hu­man Cen­tipede III (Fi­nal Se­quence) (2015)

Tom Six has no idea what struc­ture, pac­ing or taste is, and he clear­ly want­ed to make the vilest piece of garbage ever — which it is safe to say he ac­com­plished -, al­though it would have been cheap­er and more ef­fec­tive for him to look for ther­a­py in­stead.

The Hunch­back of Notre Dame (1996)

The heavy changes in the orig­i­nal sto­ry, like its in­evitable soft­en­ing to be more palat­able for chil­dren, may dis­please some, but still it tack­les se­ri­ous themes with a lot of won­der­ful songs and spec­tac­u­lar vi­su­als, among the best that Dis­ney has ever put on screen.

The 100-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out the Win­dow and Dis­ap­peared (2013)

I won­der if this is sup­posed to be an ab­sur­dist, Swedish ver­sion of Jack­ass Presents: Bad Grand­pa (with­out the crass hu­mor), with great vi­su­als (the cin­e­matog­ra­phy is gor­geous) and im­pres­sive make­up but aw­ful­ly un­fun­ny and with a ridicu­lous plot that has no struc­ture or fo­cus.

A Hun­gar­i­an Pass­port (2001)

Al­though the film could have been more tech­ni­cal­ly well made (some­times the sound is not very good, for in­stance), it is com­pelling to fol­low Kogut as she goes in search of her roots and finds so many ob­sta­cles in her way — which I guess would be a night­mare for any­one who hates bu­reau­cra­cy.

Hunger (2008)

Mc­Queen’s de­but is grip­ping and in­tense, with some amaz­ing long takes and a dis­turb­ing sto­ry that de­picts the hor­ren­dous im­pact of a hunger strike on the hu­man body, even though I don’t like how the plot is sud­den­ly de­vi­at­ed from Dav­ey Gillen to Bob­by Sands.

The Hunger Games (2012)

The dystopic uni­verse could have been bet­ter ex­plored, while the shaky cam­era in the ac­tion scenes makes it a bit hard to fol­low what is ac­tu­al­ly hap­pen­ing on screen, but still this is an ex­hil­a­rat­ing movie that ben­e­fits a lot from great per­for­mances and charis­mat­ic char­ac­ters.

The Hunger Games: Catch­ing Fire (2013)

The rest­less cam­era in the ac­tion scenes still makes it a tad dif­fi­cult to see what is go­ing on like in the first movie, but what is great about this bleak, in­tense se­quel is that it fo­cus­es less on the fight­ing and more on the po­lit­i­cal is­sues, the des­o­la­tion, the char­ac­ters.

The Hunger Games: Mock­ing­jay — Part 1 (2014)

Leav­ing aside the ac­tion that was so present in the pre­vi­ous films to in­vest more in the char­ac­ters, this third chap­ter is a grim, in­tel­li­gent and riv­et­ing char­ac­ter study that finds space to dis­cuss rel­e­vant mat­ters like me­dia ma­nip­u­la­tion and proves to be the strongest in­stall­ment of the se­ries so far.

The Hunger Games: Mock­ing­jay — Part 2 (2015)

De­spite some struc­tur­al prob­lems and nar­ra­tive stu­pidi­ties (it is a mys­tery that Kat­niss and the rebels are not killed right away, giv­en how in­com­pe­tent they seem), and most im­por­tant­ly a sil­ly, ar­ti­fi­cial and sex­ist last scene, this is still an ef­fi­cient con­clu­sion that works thanks to the adult way that it shows the out­come of a rev­o­lu­tion.

Hun­gry Hearts (2014)

An an­guish­ing and ex­treme­ly un­set­tling sto­ry that be­comes more and more like a hor­ror movie (with some nice use of ul­tra wide-an­gle lens­es) as we wit­ness a des­per­ate man try­ing to pre­vent a new­born child from get­ting hurt by a fool­ish woman who is com­plete­ly out of her mind.

The Hunt (2012)

An ex­treme­ly nerve-wrack­ing thriller with a fan­tas­tic Mads Mikkelsen as a man go­ing through a ter­ri­fy­ing or­deal. How­ev­er, it is im­pos­si­ble for me to over­look some ma­jor im­plau­si­bil­i­ties, es­pe­cial­ly the char­ac­ter stay­ing in that town against all good sense and the naive end­ing.

Hunt for the Wilder­peo­ple (2016)

With an ex­cel­lent di­rec­tion by Tai­ka Wait­i­ti (who al­ways finds ways to sur­prise me) and great per­for­mances by Sam Neill and Ju­lian Den­ni­son, this is a fun­ny and re­fresh­ing sweet road movie (or in this case “bush movie”) that makes us laugh out loud with its off­beat hu­mor.

The Hunt­ing Ground (2015)

De­spite some re­port­ed is­sues re­gard­ing its cred­i­bil­i­ty, this is a great com­pan­ion piece to The In­vis­i­ble War in what con­cerns in­sti­tu­tion­al­ized misog­y­ny and bru­tal­i­ty against women (and in this case also men) that go shock­ing­ly ig­nored when the in­ter­ests of pow­er­ful peo­ple are in­volved.

The Hunt­ing Par­ty (2007)

The ac­tors seem to be hav­ing a lot of fun and the di­a­logue is most­ly very fun­ny, but it is re­al­ly hard to buy into most of this lu­di­crous “based in real events” plot that has a ma­jor re­venge cliché as mo­ti­va­tion for the main char­ac­ter and is a tonal mess in its stu­pid third act.

Hur­ri­cane Bian­ca (2016)

It is ter­ri­ble in terms of char­ac­ter de­vel­op­ment and has a non­sen­si­cal plot full of car­i­ca­tures and clichés, but the biggest sin of this low-bud­get, crowd-fund­ed ef­fort is how un­fun­ny it is — which is un­ac­cept­able when the star here is one of the fun­ni­est drag queens in the plan­et.

The Hurt Lock­er (2008)

Kathryn Bigelow’s in­tense, pow­er­ful war film is un­bear­ably sus­pense­ful as it holds the ten­sion from one se­quence to the next while dra­mat­i­cal­ly fo­cus­ing on its char­ac­ters — and Je­re­my Ren­ner is out­stand­ing as the bomb dis­armer who is ad­dict­ed to his dan­ger­ous job.

Hush (2016)

Flana­gan con­tin­ues to prove af­ter his ex­cel­lent Ocu­lus that he is one of the most in­ter­est­ing names in re­cent years when it comes to gen­uine hor­ror, with an­oth­er smart, well-di­rect­ed and tense movie that does have a few clichés here and there but works quite well all the same.

The Hus­tler (1961)

With an ex­cep­tion­al cast — most es­pe­cial­ly Paul New­man and Piper Lau­rie in out­stand­ing per­for­mances -, this is a pro­found­ly com­pelling and rich­ly com­plex char­ac­ter study about an ar­ro­gant, self-de­struc­tive anti-hero in search of his own “char­ac­ter” and find­ing it in a most painful way.

Hyde Park on Hud­son (2012)

The kind of out­dat­ed love sto­ry that should­n’t have space in mod­ern times, and it has the wrong lead char­ac­ter, since her re­la­tion­ship with FDR is the weak­est el­e­ment of the plot and her in­tru­sive nar­ra­tion is al­ways use­less and ex­pos­i­to­ry.

Hys­te­ria (2011)

This de­light­ful British com­e­dy about the in­ven­tion of the first vi­bra­tor in the med­ical treat­ment of fe­male hys­te­ria in the Vic­to­ri­an Era is a very fun­ny film that ben­e­fits from an el­e­gant di­a­logue, a sharp cast and a per­fect chem­istry be­tween Dan­cy and Gyl­len­haal.

I am Cuba, the Siber­ian Mam­moth (2004)

Prob­ing into the mak­ings of an al­most for­got­ten but re­dis­cov­ered mas­ter­piece is cer­tain­ly a fas­ci­nat­ing ex­pe­ri­ence, and this is a great ex­am­ple of his­tor­i­cal re­cov­ery that al­lows us to un­der­stand the im­pact of Soy Cuba even if the re­sult does­n’t quite reach the depth of its sub­ject.

I Am Di­vine (2013)

This is an ef­fi­cient and en­joy­able doc­u­men­tary about the life and ca­reer of John Wa­ters’ muse of filth, even though it feels ex­ces­sive­ly rev­er­en­tial and has a struc­ture that is a bit too con­ven­tion­al — which seems pret­ty iron­ic, con­sid­er­ing the un­con­ven­tion­al sub­ject in ques­tion.

I Am Love (2009)

Ex­quis­ite­ly di­rect­ed and act­ed, with an amaz­ing Til­da Swin­ton per­fect­ly con­vey­ing the dis­cov­ery of love, this is a beau­ti­ful and sump­tu­ous Ital­ian dra­ma that brings to mind the aes­thet­ic and nar­ra­tive style of Luchi­no Vis­con­ti, grow­ing in a crescen­do to­wards a glo­ri­ous, ex­plo­sive end.

I Am Michael (2015)

A re­mark­ably sym­pa­thet­ic and nu­anced char­ac­ter study about an ide­al­ist LGBT ac­tivist who slow­ly be­comes a pa­thet­ic shad­ow of him­self due to fear and re­li­gion, and it is beau­ti­ful to see how the film nev­er vil­i­fies him, which would have been ac­tu­al­ly quite easy.

I Am Not Your Ne­gro (2016)

The fact that this un­miss­able doc­u­men­tary has been some­how met with strong op­po­si­tion from a seg­ment of the pub­lic is symp­to­matic ev­i­dence of its im­por­tance as an ob­jec­tive ex­am­i­na­tion that should make us se­ri­ous­ly re­flect on the very roots of racism in Amer­i­ca.

I Am the Pret­ty Thing That Lives in the House (2016)

Sim­i­lar­ly to what he did in his pre­vi­ous film, Perkins in­vests well in an eerie at­mos­phere that leaves us un­easy even if we don’t know what to fear, but still the ex­pe­ri­ence be­comes frus­trat­ing for not go­ing any­where be­yond the most ob­vi­ous, no mat­ter how deeply po­et­ic every­thing sounds.

I, Daniel Blake (2016)

Cen­tered on a proud pro­tag­o­nist strug­gling with the re­volt­ing in­dif­fer­ence of a state that does­n’t care about those in need, this bleak and de­press­ing film is also quite touch­ing when show­ing the gen­eros­i­ty of peo­ple even un­der hor­ri­ble cir­cum­stances of pover­ty and de­spair.

I Don’t Feel at Home in This World Any­more. (2017)

The film is not only one tiny step away from be­ing laugh-out-loud fun­ny but also wastes too much un­nec­es­sary time fo­cus­ing on the rob­bers, but even so it works quite well as it grows from be­ing a quirky in­die lit­tle com­e­dy into some­thing un­ex­pect­ed­ly ex­plo­sive in the end.

I Don’t Want to Sleep Alone (2006)

A poignant film of stun­ning, Tarkovskian beau­ty, but Tsai seems a bit too in­ter­est­ed in play­ing with the struc­ture of his works now, giv­en how af­ter a strong first hour it seems to drift away with­out di­rec­tion only to fi­nal­ly make up for its flaws with a heart­felt, beau­ti­ful end­ing.

I Heart Huck­abees (2004)

The gen­er­al opin­ion about this movie seems cu­ri­ous­ly di­vid­ed be­tween find­ing it ei­ther smart or pre­ten­tious, but for me it is nei­ther, rather a quirky, mild­ly fun­ny sto­ry that makes a wel­come use of ex­is­ten­tial­ist is­sues and a great cast. Good, though noth­ing spe­cial.

I Killed My Moth­er (2009)

Xavier Dolan is a re­al­ly tal­ent­ed, promis­ing young di­rec­tor, and his film­mak­ing de­but is this sen­si­tive and en­gag­ing ap­proach to a semi-au­to­bi­o­graph­i­cal sub­ject, a sto­ry that bal­ances sub­tle hu­mor and com­pelling dra­ma in a more than sat­is­fy­ing way.

I Know What You Did Last Sum­mer (1997)

Kevin Williamson, the same guy who wrote the wit­ty screen­play of Scream mak­ing fun of the clichés of hor­ror movies and slash­ers, also wrote this one here but em­brac­ing all those dumb clichés in­stead; still, at least Gille­spie is able to make it sus­pense­ful and rel­a­tive­ly fun.

I Love You Phillip Mor­ris (2009)

This film’s hu­mor is not for every­body (you see, I was the only one laugh­ing out loud in a cin­e­ma full of peo­ple), and it has a sto­ry that could have been made into a de­press­ing tragedy but is pre­sent­ed here as a light and de­light­ful ro­man­tic com­e­dy with great per­for­mances.

I Only Want You to Love Me (1976)

This Fass­binder film made in a hur­ry for tele­vi­sion is al­ways in­ter­est­ing, even if its non-lin­ear struc­ture is a bit dis­tract­ing and it also lacks that sym­pa­thy that we usu­al­ly see in his films to­wards the good-heart­ed, fool­ish pro­tag­o­nist who is doomed from the be­gin­ning.

I Ori­gins (2014)

What a won­der­ful sur­prise to see Mike Cahill con­front sci­ence and spir­i­tu­al­i­ty with so much com­pe­tence in this ex­treme­ly chal­leng­ing, thought-pro­vok­ing blend of ro­mance, dra­ma and sci­ence fic­tion sus­tained by an al­ways grip­ping mys­tery and clever di­a­logue.

I Spit on Your Grave (Day of the Woman) (1978)

I can’t see any­thing ap­peal­ing or sat­is­fy­ing in this re­venge ex­ploita­tion movie, and it looks cheap and ugly in ba­si­cal­ly every as­pect: the sub­par act­ing, poor di­rec­tion (even the fram­ing is aw­ful), am­a­teur­ish pac­ing and ridicu­lous deaths that don’t jus­ti­fy all the vi­o­lence that pre­cedes them.

I Spit on Your Grave (2010)

Re­venge is a dish best served cold, but this flawed movie spends way too much time show­ing the pro­tag­o­nist’s hor­ren­dous suf­fer­ing and hu­mil­i­a­tion in an over­long (and graph­ic) set­up be­fore fi­nal­ly mov­ing on to the en­ter­tain­ing part where we get to see her ac­tions against her ag­gres­sors.

I Stand Alone (1998)

The de­ranged horse butch­er from Carne is now strug­gling to re­gain any con­trol of his life af­ter spend­ing many years in jail, in a heart-wrench­ing and in­cred­i­bly dis­turb­ing film that has an amaz­ing per­for­mance by Philippe Na­hon and an ab­solute­ly bril­liant fi­nal act.

I, Tonya (2017)

Mar­got Rob­bie and Al­li­son Jan­ney are ex­cel­lent in this atyp­i­cal bi­og­ra­phy that reach­es mo­ments of such ab­sur­di­ty (with char­ac­ters who are stu­pid be­yond be­lief) that it be­comes sur­re­al and hi­lar­i­ous some­times, ben­e­fit­ing from the way it plays with the con­tra­dic­tions seen in the in­ter­views.

I Trav­el Be­cause I Have to, I Come Back Be­cause I Love You (2009)

A sim­ple yet unique project that re­sem­bles a doc­u­men­tary us­ing most­ly land­scape footage and the voiceover of a pro­tag­o­nist whose face we nev­er see, and be­com­ing pro­found­ly mov­ing as it shows a man grad­u­al­ly sink­ing into de­pres­sion as he finds him­self alone and away from the woman he loves.

I Want Your Love (2012)

By ex­pand­ing to full length his im­pres­sive (and deeply in­volv­ing) short movie, Matthews dis­plays once more his re­mark­able tal­ent for show­ing graph­ic in­ti­ma­cy with so much pas­sion and hon­esty; the only prob­lem, how­ev­er, is that the film is also too dif­fuse and frag­ment­ed.

I Wish (2011)

A del­i­cate film that re­lies on the tal­ent and charis­ma of its young ac­tors and makes us eas­i­ly re­late to their dreams and wish­es with a sim­ple but hon­est sto­ry, while Ko­ree­da proves again that he knows quite well how to draw nat­ur­al per­for­mances from chil­dren.

I’d Re­ceive the Worst News from Your Beau­ti­ful Lips (2011)

An­oth­er thought-pro­vok­ing sto­ry by one of the most fas­ci­nat­ing Brazil­ian di­rec­tors of his time, fol­low­ing his cur­rent ob­ses­sion with how an artist’s cre­ative process can be hin­dered by in­tense pas­sion and rea­son­ing — a theme Brant has been ex­plor­ing since his bril­liant Del­i­cate Crime.

I’m All Yours (2015)

It has an ir­reg­u­lar struc­ture with a lot of un­der­de­vel­oped el­e­ments and does­n’t even man­age to ex­plain how Don­nadieu be­came such a stu­pid re­li­gious fa­nat­ic, but still this is a live­ly and mod­ern com­e­dy that can be quite fun­ny and has a nice per­for­mance by Vi­mala Pons.

I’m So Ex­cit­ed! (2013)

This is Almod­ó­var’s pit stop back to his light come­dies, but, even if mild­ly amus­ing, the film lacks in struc­ture and ends up look­ing iron­i­cal­ly like the air­plane where the sto­ry takes place, drift­ing aim­less­ly around and around with­out know­ing where to go.

Icarus (2017)

This mind-blow­ing, tense and ex­treme­ly well-made doc­u­men­tary ex­pos­es an un­com­fort­able truth that should call into ques­tion the whole pur­pose of watch­ing the games any­more, when this aw­ful dis­re­gard for ethics can find such an easy way in and be­come en­dem­ic to the whole thing.

Ichi the Killer (2001)

Def­i­nite­ly shock­ing in its ex­cess of gore and bru­tal vi­o­lence, this bizarre (and in­ad­ver­tent­ly hi­lar­i­ous) man­ga sto­ry is filled with a sur­pris­ing dose of dark hu­mor and fea­tures a cute but odd anti-hero and an al­ways fas­ci­nat­ing sado­masochis­tic vil­lain.

Ice Age: Con­ti­nen­tal Drift (2012)

This un­nec­es­sary fourquel was ob­vi­ous­ly con­ceived to make (more) mon­ey only, with an unin­spired sto­ry that is dull, un­fun­ny and full of the lamest clichés about the “val­ue of fam­i­ly” — and Scrat is the only thing that still works, even if in home­o­path­ic dos­es.

Ice Poi­son (2014)

It takes a very in­sight­ful di­rec­tor to tack­le dif­fer­ent so­cial mat­ters in this sub­tle way, nev­er preach­ing or of­fer­ing so­lu­tions, with a sto­ry that un­folds in a care­ful pace and gives us time to con­nect with the char­ac­ters as we close­ly ob­serve their lives and ac­tions.

Ice­man (1984)

What a com­plete­ly wast­ed op­por­tu­ni­ty for a thought-pro­vok­ing dis­cus­sion about hu­man na­ture, aim­ing in­stead at the most ob­vi­ous with a dull de­vel­op­ment and a ridicu­lous third act that made me imag­ine what a tal­ent­ed di­rec­tor like Wern­er Her­zog could have done with this ma­te­r­i­al.

Ida (2013)

With a 1.37:1 as­pect ra­tio and a gor­geous, op­pres­sive cin­e­matog­ra­phy in black and white, this grip­ping dra­ma does a flaw­less job ex­plor­ing the si­lence and emp­ty spaces with­in the frames to un­der­line the elu­sive void that is present in the lives of two women.

Iden­ti­ty (2003)

An in­trigu­ing, tense and solid­ly struc­tured thriller cen­tered on a mys­tery that is pret­ty well de­vel­oped — even if it can­not es­cape the clichés of the genre -, but what makes it stand out is how it turns out to be much more in­tel­li­gent than it seems de­spite its flaws and ab­sur­di­ties.

The Ides of March (2011)

Clooney proves again that he knows how to di­rect in­tel­li­gent films that rely on a great di­a­logue, and this in­trigu­ing char­ac­ter study is grip­ping from the first scene to the last, cen­tered on a bril­liant po­lit­i­cal bat­tle and with an in­tense per­for­mance by the al­ways fan­tas­tic Ryan Gosling.

Id­ioc­ra­cy (2006)

Prov­ing only that dumb­er are those who try to ar­gue with dumb peo­ple, this is a cheap one-joke com­e­dy that should have been made as an SNL sketch in­stead of a movie, as it is too sil­ly not to re­al­ize that there could­n’t pos­si­bly be air­planes or stocks in a so­ci­ety like that.

The Idle Class (1921)

Chap­lin is back to the Mu­tu­al-style two-reel­ers with this light com­e­dy, play­ing two roles in a fun­ny sto­ry of mis­tak­en iden­ti­ties. En­joy­able, though not re­al­ly spe­cial.

If I Stay (2014)

A shame­less melo­dra­ma that fol­lows The Love­ly Bones as an­oth­er schmaltzy teenage life-and-death joke, painful­ly in­ter­minable, full of un­bear­able ex­po­si­tion and corny lines, and down­right ma­nip­u­la­tive, try­ing to make us cry at all costs with every cliché imag­in­able.

If I Want to Whis­tle, I Whis­tle (2010)

Pis­tere­anu car­ries this dra­ma with a sur­pris­ing tal­ent and in­ten­si­ty, but af­ter two care­ful first acts with long scenes that show the char­ac­ter’s life in­side the prison us­ing a re­al­is­tic, al­most doc­u­men­tary-like ap­proach, the film reach­es a dis­ap­point­ing con­flict that is hard to buy.

Ikiru (1952)

A spe­cial, bit­ter­sweet and some­times sur­pris­ing­ly fun­ny cel­e­bra­tion of the act of liv­ing, beau­ti­ful­ly di­rect­ed and with a won­der­ful per­for­mance by Takashi Shimu­ra as an awk­ward old pro­tag­o­nist who should in­spire us all to re­con­sid­er the way we have been liv­ing our lives.

Ilo Ilo (2013)

A not so in­ter­est­ing ef­fort that seems con­fused about what it wants to say and has a flawed plot that suf­fers from many un­re­solved el­e­ments, like the moth­er’s con­trived jeal­ousy, a lack of de­cent ex­pla­na­tion for the boy’s bad be­hav­ior and his abrupt bond­ing with the maid.

The Im­age Book (2018)

There will be those de­fend­ing this as an ex­am­ple of cin­e­mat­ic dadaism or stream of con­scious­ness or what­ev­er, but in fact all we have here are the dis­con­nect­ed mus­ings of a se­nile old man who only finds the most ob­vi­ous things to say and seems to have just learned how to mess around with sound.

Im­a­gens do Es­ta­do Novo 1937–45 (2016)

How­ev­er long and di­dac­tic like a Brazil­ian His­to­ry les­son, this is a com­pre­hen­sive doc­u­men­tary that re­lies ex­clu­sive­ly on archive footage from the Var­gas pe­ri­od to paint a full pic­ture of the po­lit­i­cal con­di­tions that al­lowed a pop­ulist dic­ta­tor to re­main in pow­er for near­ly two decades.

Im­a­gens do In­con­sciente (1987)

I guess this stim­u­lat­ing tril­o­gy of doc­u­men­tary films will ap­peal more to psy­chol­o­gy stu­dents, teach­ers and ther­a­pists, due to its clin­i­cal, ped­a­gog­ic ap­proach to ex­am­in­ing the re­la­tions be­tween artis­tic man­i­fes­ta­tions of the in­di­vid­ual un­con­scious mind and ar­che­types of the col­lec­tive un­con­scious.

The Imag­i­nar­i­um of Doc­tor Par­nas­sus (2009)

The vi­su­al ef­fects are a true de­light but it is hard to fol­low such a con­fus­ing mess of a nar­ra­tive that stretch­es for so long and does­n’t seem to know where to go, which seems to re­sult from the many un­for­tu­nate plot al­ter­ations that had to be made af­ter Ledger’s death.

Imag­i­nary He­roes (2004)

This fam­i­ly dra­ma should have fo­cused more on the emo­tion­al im­pact of the tragedy on the char­ac­ters, but in­stead it goes for ar­ti­fi­cial con­flicts and pa­thet­ic clichés, suf­fer­ing also from an ex­cess of in­for­ma­tion with many un­nec­es­sary de­tails added at every mo­ment to cre­ate new use­less twists.

Imag­in­ing Ar­genti­na (2003)

It is, yes, well-in­ten­tioned but that does­n’t com­pen­sate for its sil­ly, heavy-hand­ed ex­e­cu­tion full of ar­ti­fi­cial­i­ty, shal­low di­a­logue and car­toon­ish vil­lains — and Ban­deras’ char­ac­ter acts so ir­ra­tional­ly that I find it un­be­liev­able that he is not killed be­fore halfway through the sto­ry.

The Im­i­ta­tion Game (2014)

A mediocre biopic that caters to the low­est com­mon de­nom­i­na­tor (it does­n’t even both­er to ex­plain how Tur­ing’s ma­chine ac­tu­al­ly works), full of cheap clichés and ar­ti­fi­cial sit­u­a­tions that one would ex­pect from an or­di­nary movie made for TV, not a mul­ti­ple Os­car nom­i­nee.

Im­i­ta­tion of Life (1959)

A lav­ish, touch­ing melo­dra­ma that re­mains al­ways fo­cused and held to­geth­er even when try­ing to flesh out the per­son­al con­flicts of so many char­ac­ters — which it does in a way that is quite re­al­is­tic and sin­cere de­spite how in the end Sirk tries way too hard to force us into tears.

The Im­mi­grant (1917)

One of the most en­ter­tain­ing of Chap­lin’s short silents, very fun­ny and de­light­ful, and the scene in the restau­rant is non-stop laughs.

The Im­mi­grant (2013)

An in­ter­est­ing sto­ry with a lot of po­ten­tial but un­der­mined by its in­abil­i­ty to make us re­late to it in al­most any lev­el, tend­ing to­wards melo­dra­ma and be­com­ing like a soap opera af­ter some time. In the end, it re­mains cold, with char­ac­ters who could have been more well ex­plored.

The Im­pos­si­ble (2012)

A ter­ri­fy­ing and har­row­ing­ly re­al­is­tic dis­as­ter movie with a su­perb cast (Tom Hol­land is a rev­e­la­tion) and an ex­cep­tion­al pro­duc­tion de­sign. Few movies this year were this pow­er­ful, hold­ing a strong emo­tion­al punch and able to move me be­yond words.

The Im­poster (2012)

It is hard to be­lieve that this shock­ing, un­be­liev­able true sto­ry ac­tu­al­ly hap­pened, since what be­gins as an ap­par­ent­ly sim­ple case of im­pos­ture turns out to be some­thing much more hor­rif­ic once you look deep­er into it — some­thing that must be seen to be be­lieved.

In a Bet­ter World (2010)

A chal­leng­ing med­i­ta­tion on how hurt-in­duced re­venge and the in­ten­tion of get­ting rid of a men­ace can over­lap when some­one looks for a mo­tive to get even. It could have been much bet­ter, though, had it not moved its fo­cus to a mi­nor sub­ject (in com­par­i­son) in the third act.

In a Year with 13 Moons (1978)

Fass­binder uses a per­son­al loss as start­ing point for an­oth­er de­press­ing sto­ry about ex­ploita­tion that does­n’t dare of­fer any easy an­swers, even though the re­sult this time feels also ar­bi­trary, with his usu­al cold, de­tached ap­proach leav­ing lit­tle room for em­pa­thy.

In Search of the Ul­tra-Sex (2015)

This is ba­si­cal­ly What’s Up, Tiger Lil­ly? with trashy vin­tage porn, a puerile and re­tard­ed movie that be­lieves to be much wit­ti­er than it is but is only un­fun­ny with its child­ish, pedes­tri­an hu­mor and ir­ri­tat­ing re-dub­bing, and it feels a lot longer than its rel­a­tive­ly short du­ra­tion.

In the Ab­sence (2018)

I only wish this had been made as a fea­ture-length doc­u­men­tary, which for me is both a good sign (as it made me want to know more about the in­ci­dent) and a not-so-good one, as I would have loved to see it cov­er the tragedy in greater de­tails.

In the Fade (2017)

Di­ane Kruger de­liv­ers a pow­er­ful per­for­mance that con­veys with full in­ten­si­ty the pain of los­ing the peo­ple we love to hate and in­tol­er­ance, in a com­pelling dra­ma that ex­pos­es with sen­si­tiv­i­ty and in­tel­li­gence a trag­ic cy­cle of vi­o­lence that brings only more vi­o­lence.

In the Heart of the Sea (2015)

I hate when some­one re­counts a sto­ry in which he was not al­ways present, but even if there is noth­ing like wit­ness­ing the sweet re­venge of a beast (mon­ster or vic­tim?), this in­tense film of evoca­tive vi­su­als grows even more com­pelling when show­ing the lengths that peo­ple can go to sur­vive a hor­ri­ble or­deal.

In the House (2012)

A smart and fas­ci­nat­ing dra­ma that in­ge­nious­ly dis­solves the bar­ri­er that sep­a­rates fic­tion from re­al­i­ty as we wit­ness a tal­ent­ed teenag­er us­ing a cu­ri­ous ploy to draw his in­trigued teacher into a wit­ty meta-dis­cus­sion on the pro­duc­tion of a nar­ra­tive work.

In the In­tense Now (2017)

An in­tu­itive and per­cep­tive re­flec­tion that con­structs an un­ex­pect­ed nar­ra­tive from the un­ex­pect­ed, putting to­geth­er am­a­teur footage and archive ma­te­r­i­al from the same pe­ri­od in an at­tempt to ex­am­ine how we can cap­ture spe­cial mo­ments in time with­out even re­al­iz­ing it.

In the Land of Blood and Hon­ey (2011)

It is ad­mirable the ded­i­ca­tion of An­ge­line Jolie to some­thing she be­lieves in so ar­dent­ly, but even though her movie is well di­rect­ed and holds a strong im­pact in its in­tend­ed mes­sage, the char­ac­ters are poor­ly de­vel­oped and re­main a puz­zle un­til the very end.

In the Land of the Ama­zons (1922)

Fil­tered by a pair of com­mis­sioned Por­tuguese eyes want­i­ng to ex­alt the re­sources, bio­di­ver­si­ty and eco­nom­ic ac­tiv­i­ties of the Ama­zon re­gion, the re­sult is an in­ter­est­ing trav­el jour­nal that feels only a bit too long with its run­time of 129 min­utes (not 72 like most sources in­di­cate).

In the Loop (2009)

A hi­lar­i­ous po­lit­i­cal satire with a wit­ty di­a­logue and a de­li­cious­ly British sense of hu­mor that I imag­ine is not for every­one — and Pe­ter Ca­pal­di is price­less and steals the show every time he ap­pears, swear­ing in­sane­ly and shout­ing the f‑word to every­one.

In the Name of… (2013)

It takes long to shape a premise and fo­cus on its in­ten­tions, with the char­ac­ter’s sex­u­al and moral con­flict not so nat­u­ral­ly ex­plored and made clear only too late, and it is hard not to feel un­easy with a film that wants us to un­der­stand a pe­dophile, which is what he is af­ter all.

In the Shad­ow of Women (2015)

The best about this charm­ing and de­cep­tive­ly sim­ple film is how it gives new con­tours and nu­ances to its char­ac­ters (made all the more real by the ex­cel­lent per­for­mances) as the sto­ry pro­gress­es, but it is just a pity that it ends with such an easy and rather frus­trat­ing res­o­lu­tion.

In Time (2011)

It has an in­trigu­ing idea but the plot lacks so much in­for­ma­tion re­gard­ing the back­sto­ry and me­chan­ics of its uni­verse that it be­comes in­co­her­ent, im­plau­si­ble and ut­ter­ly stu­pid, with plot holes, pre­ten­tious di­a­logue and mud­dled mo­ti­va­tions — es­pe­cial­ly from Mur­phy’s char­ac­ter.

In­be­tween Worlds (2014)

A grip­ping and ex­treme­ly tense film that de­picts with sur­pris­ing re­al­ism (and out­stand­ing sound de­sign) the dai­ly life of sol­diers in Afghanistan as they are con­front­ed with dif­fi­cult choic­es, call­ing into ques­tion weath­er some peo­ple are sim­ply not fit for this kind of job.

In­cendies (2010)

An in­tense, grip­ping and ab­solute­ly won­der­ful dra­ma that tells a dev­as­tat­ing sto­ry about love, hate, se­crets and amends, and it does so in a com­plete­ly un­pre­dictable way, with a pow­er­ful per­for­mance by Lub­na Az­a­bal and an un­be­liev­able, jaw-drop­ping end­ing.

Inch’Al­lah (2012)

Adopt­ing a nat­u­ral­is­tic ap­proach to de­pict the dif­fi­cult re­al­i­ty of that place, this sol­id dra­ma is com­plex enough to be worth check­ing out, cen­tered on a woman who gets vol­un­tar­i­ly caught up in a war that is not hers and dri­ven by trag­ic cir­cum­stances to a dras­tic de­ci­sion.

An In­con­ve­nient Truth (2006)

An en­light­en­ing and ter­ri­fy­ing doc­u­men­tary that should be manda­to­ry view­ing for those who still doubt the harm­ful im­pact of our ac­tions in the plan­et, as it of­fers in­dis­putable data to prove that there are a lot of un­prece­dent­ed changes hap­pen­ing in the world now.

The In­cred­i­bles (2004)

This is one of those ex­cep­tion­al an­i­mat­ed films that will be for­ev­er re­mem­bered as one os Pixar’s finest achieve­ments, with a de­li­cious fam­i­ly twist on the typ­i­cal su­per­hero sto­ry, spec­tac­u­lar ac­tion scenes and three-di­men­sion­al char­ac­ters both in phys­i­cal shape and per­son­al­i­ty.

In­cred­i­bles 2 (2008)

It is a pity that the iden­ti­ty of the vil­lain is so ob­vi­ous, and I also find it fun­ny that no one even con­sid­ers us­ing Voy­d’s pow­er as a so­lu­tion in the movie’s cli­max, but nev­er mind, this is a great se­quel that man­ages to be thrilling, hi­lar­i­ous and more vi­su­al­ly stun­ning than ever.

In­di­ana Jones and the Tem­ple of Doom (1984)

Some con­sid­er it too dark and weak­er than the oth­er chap­ters, but this in­for­mal pre­quel is also an­oth­er first-rate ad­ven­ture, of­fer­ing un­stop­pable ac­tion and plen­ty of fun as the char­ac­ter goes in a dan­ger­ous jour­ney into the mys­tic to re­trieve a pow­er­ful mag­ic stone.

In­di­ana Jones and the Last Cru­sade (1989)

A huge­ly en­ter­tain­ing ad­ven­ture that of­fers every­thing that made Raiders so suc­cess­ful and more: ex­hil­a­rat­ing ac­tion scenes, hi­lar­i­ous di­a­logue with a per­fect com­ic tim­ing and, of course, the plea­sure of see­ing Har­ri­son Ford and Sean Con­nery to­geth­er.

In­di­ana Jones and the King­dom of the Crys­tal Skull (2008)

A dis­ap­point­ing chap­ter that suf­fers from a lame in­ter­ac­tion be­tween the char­ac­ters, an in­con­sis­tent plot that makes no sense and ac­tion scenes that are nev­er mem­o­rable, re­ly­ing too much on CGI and nev­er man­ag­ing to cre­ate any sense of real dan­ger, with a ter­ri­ble end­ing.

In­fa­mous (2006)

Toby Jones is tru­ly great here, even though over­shad­owed by Philip Sey­mour Hoff­man’s fan­tas­tic per­for­mance in the far su­pe­ri­or Capote (the com­par­i­son is in­evitable), but this film suf­fers from many ter­ri­ble doc­u­men­tary-like state­ments that ex­plain what we can eas­i­ly see.

In­fer­nal Af­fairs (2002)

A very smart and taut thriller that prefers to fo­cus on its char­ac­ters and the re­la­tion­ship be­tween them in­stead of jump­ing into ac­tion, shoot­ings and twists as is usu­al­ly ex­pect­ed from this kind of crime movie.

In­fer­no (2016)

A movie so fast paced and rushed that it al­most does­n’t give us time to re­al­ize how lu­di­crous the plot is and how lit­tle sense it makes, with so many holes and in­con­sis­ten­cies, a lot of emp­ty ex­po­si­tion and even Lang­don con­stant­ly suf­fer­ing from laugh­able “flash­back cri­sis.”

In­fi­ni (2015)

Af­ter an aw­ful­ly con­vo­lut­ed be­gin­ning heavy on ugly, clum­sy ex­po­si­tion, it proves to be just a cheap re­hash of Alien with a mod­ern feel (no­tice the amount of lens flares) and an at­mos­pher­ic nar­ra­tive that col­laps­es al­most ridicu­lous­ly in a non­sen­si­cal, in­co­her­ent con­clu­sion.

The In­for­mant! (2009)

Matt Da­mon is so con­fi­dent and charis­mat­ic as a com­pul­sive liar who be­comes an un­usu­al cor­po­rate whistle­blow­er for the FBI, and even if the nar­ra­tive is not as com­pelling as it could be, this is a nice film that man­ages to be in­ter­est­ing in all its odd­ness.

The In­form­ers (2008)

Great per­for­mances in a des­o­late sto­ry by Bret Eas­t­on El­lis about moral de­cay amidst so­ci­ety glam­our in the Los An­ge­les of 1983, show­ing rich peo­ple liv­ing of sex, drugs, pow­er, wealth and fame, and the mis­ery of their lives.

In­her­ent Vice (2014)

The plot is over­long, ex­treme­ly in­tri­cate — con­vo­lut­ed would be the ex­act word — and has way too many char­ac­ters, but still this trip­py pri­vate eye crime-com­e­dy com­pen­sates for its flaws with a de­li­cious, groovy ’70s vibe, a great sound­track and a hi­lar­i­ous dope­head hu­mor.

In­her­it the Wind (1960)

This won­der­ful­ly-writ­ten film was dar­ing for the time it came out and re­mains rel­e­vant in our times, as it ex­pos­es re­li­gion and big­otry as a hin­drance to hu­man think­ing and im­press­es us with Fredric March’s three-di­men­sion­al char­ac­ter, even though it ends with a ter­ri­ble last scene.

The Innkeep­ers (2011)

An­oth­er dis­play of tal­ent from Ti West, who bet­ter than many un­der­stands that more ef­fi­cient than the scares is the ten­sion that comes from the wait­ing and from what we don’t see; he’s just not so skill­ful though in pro­vid­ing a pay­off wor­thy of all the buildup.

In­ocên­cia (1983)

Bland and cen­tered on an en­am­ored cou­ple who could­n’t look more awk­ward to­geth­er, this is a corny pe­ri­od ro­mance that wants to reach the pro­por­tion of a great tragedy but gets es­pe­cial­ly lost in its last half hour, when it can’t even jus­ti­fy why it in­clud­ed a cer­tain Ger­man char­ac­ter in it.

In­side (2007)

A dis­taste­ful (and in­ex­plic­a­bly over­rat­ed) French slash­er that be­gins in­trigu­ing but soon gets ex­ces­sive­ly vi­cious, out­ra­geous and dis­gust­ing, try­ing to be polemic at all costs and throw­ing us into a brain­less flood of gush­ing blood and gra­tu­itous gore.

In­side Deep Throat (2005)

This is a very well-edit­ed and amus­ing doc­u­men­tary that in­ves­ti­gates the cul­tur­al in­flu­ence of one of the most polemic films ever made, as well as its im­pact on pol­i­tics, the sex­u­al rev­o­lu­tion and the porn in­dus­try. An en­light­en­ing ac­count that is fas­ci­nat­ing and sur­pris­ing.

In­side Job (2010)

An an­gry, com­pelling and must-see doc­u­men­tary that dis­sects the caus­es and con­se­quences of the glob­al eco­nom­ic melt­down of 2008, prob­ing deep into the truth be­hind it and ex­pos­ing a cor­rupt­ed po­lit­i­cal sys­tem that fa­vors the wealthy to the detri­ment of the poor.

In­side Llewyn Davis (2013)

A won­der­ful­ly melan­choly char­ac­ter study that paints the char­ac­ter’s state of spir­it with half shad­ows, gor­geous folk mu­sic and a gray­ish cin­e­matog­ra­phy, to tell an in­sight­ful sto­ry full of heart that avoids with great gus­to be­ing a con­ven­tion­al un­der­dog crowd pleas­er.

In­side Out (2015)

Pixar al­ways hits the mark when com­bin­ing en­ter­tain­ment, in­tel­li­gence, in­ven­tive­ness and a lot of heart, and it is an end­less plea­sure to see them cre­ate a whole fas­ci­nat­ing uni­verse with a stun­ning pro­duc­tion de­sign for this ex­cit­ing jour­ney into the cor­ners of some­one’s mind.

In­sid­i­ous (2010)

Very well di­rect­ed and cer­tain­ly one of the scari­est movies I have seen in the past few years, this smart hor­ror movie knows how to avoid the clichés and main­tain a con­stant ten­sion in­stead of go­ing for the cheap scares — and it re­al­ly knows how to scare the hell out of the view­ers.

In­sid­i­ous: Chap­ter 2 (2013)

A sol­id and en­ter­tain­ing se­quel that not only main­tains the high lev­el of scares found in the ter­ri­fy­ing orig­i­nal movie, es­pe­cial­ly in its first half, but also has an in­ge­nious plot struc­ture that makes up for its poor at­tempts at hu­mor (which are al­ways mis­placed).

In­sid­i­ous: Chap­ter 3 (2015)

Is In­sid­i­ous the new Saw? This pass­able movie bears no con­nec­tion with the end of the sec­ond in­stall­ment and seems like it could have been the back­door pi­lot of a TV se­ries pre­ced­ing the events of the first two films, and it is­n’t very orig­i­nal or scary at all.

In­sid­i­ous: The Last Key (2018)

Every­thing that made the first In­sid­i­ous so ef­fec­tive and scary is gone now, and so there is ba­si­cal­ly noth­ing worth watch­ing in this point­less, lazy and stu­pid movie that un­der­es­ti­mates the view­er’s in­tel­li­gence all the time with end­less plot holes and cheap scares.

The In­sult (2017)

A slow­ly ab­sorb­ing court­room dra­ma that could have been a bit more well pol­ished, es­pe­cial­ly con­sid­er­ing the way it tries to force our sym­pa­thy to­wards the two char­ac­ters, but I do love how it shows that a per­son­al con­flict can re­veal so much about some­thing more com­plex than it seems.

In­ter­mis­sions (2004)

One of the many plea­sures of watch­ing this re­veal­ing, fly-on-the-wall doc­u­men­tary that fol­lows Brazil­ian Pres­i­den­tial can­di­date Luís In­á­cio Lula da Sil­va’s cam­paign in 2002 is see­ing how he grad­u­al­ly loosens up with time and be­gins to show so much about him­self be­tween the lines.

The In­ter­net’s Own Boy: The Sto­ry of Aaron Swartz (2014)

An in­spir­ing, en­rag­ing and ex­treme­ly sad doc­u­men­tary about this ad­mirable young man whose only crime in this anti-de­mo­c­ra­t­ic so­ci­ety was to seek knowl­edge and try to make it ac­ces­si­ble to every­one — and his stu­pid death shows that a lot must be changed/fought for in this cor­rupt­ed world.

The In­tern­ship (2013)

Even if def­i­nite­ly pre­dictable and for­mu­la­ic, this is a de­cent movie that de­liv­ers a fair amount of laughs and makes for a good time — and it has its heart in the right place and does not in­sult our in­tel­li­gence like most come­dies to­day.

The In­ter­preter (2005)

A dis­as­trous film that wants to be more com­plex than it should be, com­ing up with more and more un­nec­es­sary de­tails at the ex­pense of sim­ple con­ci­sion, and so the ob­vi­ous, pre­dictable nar­ra­tive gets lost amid con­trivances, im­plau­si­ble scenes and plot holes the size of Africa.

In­ter­stel­lar (2014)

Even with enor­mous­ly am­bi­tious ideas and a nice grandiose score, this gor­geous but flawed sci­ence fic­tion movie suf­fers from heavy-hand­ed, ex­pos­i­to­ry di­a­logue, plot holes and in­con­sis­ten­cies, main­ly in the end, which is con­trived and we can’t make any heads or tails of it.

The In­ter­view (2014)

What a bold move to poke the tiger and ex­pect some sense of hu­mor from a dic­ta­tor — and, let’s just face it, there was no way it would­n’t be con­tro­ver­sial, even if it’s just a fun­ny com­e­dy with an adorable bro­man­tic chem­istry be­tween Ro­gen and Fran­co like in Pineap­ple Ex­press.

In­ter­view with the Vam­pire: The Vam­pire Chron­i­cles (1994)

A gloomy, ro­man­tic vam­pire sto­ry with an el­e­gant di­a­logue and a sen­su­al Goth­ic at­mos­phere that makes us want to know more and more about those dark crea­tures. Still, the film suf­fers from some se­ri­ous mis­cast­ing — ex­cept for Dun­st, who is pret­ty good.

Into the Abyss (2011)

A com­pelling look at cap­i­tal pun­ish­ment, even if Her­zog clear­ly wants to con­vince us that it is wrong. Still, he also shows oth­er peo­ple’s opin­ions, al­low­ing us to draw our own con­clu­sions about the sub­ject while rais­ing an in­ter­est­ing dis­cus­sion on the val­ue of life.

Into the For­est (2015)

Ellen Page and Evan Rachel Wood are great, and up to a cer­tain point this seems like a very ma­ture film about sis­ter­hood (de­spite a few sil­ly el­e­ments such as a book that con­tains all of the world’s knowl­edge) — un­til it is al­most ru­ined by an in­cred­i­bly stu­pid end­ing.

Into the Uni­verse with Stephen Hawk­ing (2010)

The first episode (Aliens) is frus­trat­ing and re­lies most­ly on spec­u­la­tion, while the sec­ond (Time Trav­el) at least has bet­ter CGI; but it is in the third (and longer) chap­ter (The Sto­ry of Every­thing) that Hawk­ing gives a very in­ter­est­ing in­tro­duc­to­ry class on cos­mol­o­gy.

Into the Woods (2014)

A near­ly un­bear­able mu­si­cal that be­lieves that a bloat­ed, un­fo­cused mish­mash of sev­er­al fairy tales is enough to be in­ter­est­ing, but it only man­ages to be a tor­ture for the ears with ir­ri­tat­ing songs and voic­es be­sides poor char­ac­ter de­vel­op­ment, plot holes and no sense of pac­ing.

The In­touch­ables (2011)

A con­ven­tion­al and pre­dictable French com­e­dy that of­fers few sur­pris­es, even if there are some fun­ny mo­ments and the ac­tors are great. The only prob­lem is that it feels a bit un­re­al­is­tic in the way it de­vel­ops the un­usu­al friend­ship be­tween its two char­ac­ters.

In­va­sion of the Body Snatch­ers (1956)

It is hard not to think that when it came out this creepy pre-Twi­light Zone sci-fi did a great dis­ser­vice to a coun­try al­ready stirred by the col­lec­tive para­noia of Mc­Carthy­ism, but now it is no less than an es­sen­tial clas­sic that re­flects very well the po­lit­i­cal tur­bu­lence of those days.

In­va­sion of the Body Snatch­ers (1978)

Even though it re­lies on a grip­ping feel of in­tense para­noia, this is an over­long sci-fi/hor­ror movie that suf­fers from cer­tain prob­lems in log­ic and kills its ten­sion with long pas­sages that make the pac­ing ir­reg­u­lar, not even be­ing smart enough as an al­le­go­ry like the orig­i­nal film.

The In­ven­tion of Ly­ing (2009)

The kind of great idea with a rather dumb ex­e­cu­tion — much like an SNL sketch stretched for two hours and full of hits and miss­es — and it could have been so much bet­ter had they only come up with a more con­vinc­ing re­al­i­ty and tak­en the satire all the way to mock our cul­tur­al val­ues.

In­vic­tus (2009)

Free­man brings Nel­son Man­dela to life in an ex­cep­tion­al per­for­mance in­deed but this bare­ly or­di­nary dra­ma — in­spir­ing as it may be — fails to match the great­ness of its real-life char­ac­ter due to East­wood’s poor di­rect­ing choic­es and bla­tant po­lit­i­cal naiveté.

The In­vis­i­ble Guest (2016)

The type of cheesy, im­plau­si­ble and mediocre thriller that be­lieves to be so clever with end­less un­be­liev­able twists which are in fact wor­thy of a Mex­i­can soap opera — over­rat­ed while it lasts and des­tined to be for­got­ten in the dark pits of late night re­runs on ca­ble TV.

The In­vis­i­ble War (2012)

A dis­turb­ing and es­sen­tial doc­u­men­tary that ex­pos­es the out­ra­geous and hor­ri­fy­ing rape and cov­er-up in­side the US mil­i­tary, lead­ing to nu­mer­ous lives ru­ined by psy­cho­log­i­cal dam­age — which hope­ful­ly will make women re­think be­fore join­ing the armed forces.

The In­vis­i­ble Woman (2013)

The cos­tume de­sign and art di­rec­tion are out­stand­ing, though the usu­al­ly re­duced depth of field stands a bit in the way, and in its first half the sto­ry de­vel­ops well the char­ac­ters’ mu­tu­al affin­i­ty but lat­er sinks with Nel­ly’s con­trived, un­con­vinc­ing feel­ings of be­ing left aside by Dick­ens.

The In­vi­ta­tion (2015)

Kusama’s di­rec­tion is ex­cel­lent, es­pe­cial­ly in the way she ex­plores the mise-en-scène and the ge­og­ra­phy of the house where the nar­ra­tive takes place, and she knows very well how to cre­ate an un­com­fort­able feel­ing of un­rest as we fol­low it from the point of view of its main char­ac­ter.

Ip Man (2008)

The un­for­tu­nate lack of struc­ture and fo­cus of the ir­reg­u­lar script is com­pen­sat­ed by an out­stand­ing cin­e­matog­ra­phy and pro­duc­tion de­sign, a won­der­ful score and — above all else — spec­tac­u­lar fight scenes of the most ex­hil­a­rat­ing and well chore­o­graphed ever filmed.

Ip Man 2 (2010)

A bloat­ed, over­long se­quel that is more con­cerned about fol­low­ing the for­mu­la of the Rocky movies than hav­ing an iden­ti­ty of its own, with all of it mak­ing it look like a con­ven­tion­al and very pre­dictable Hol­ly­wood prod­uct, in­clud­ing a ridicu­lous­ly car­i­cat­ur­al vil­lain.

Irace­ma (1975)

I can­not even imag­ine how the di­rec­tors thought that this dar­ing and ex­treme­ly re­al­is­tic film could ever be ap­proved by the Brazil­ian cen­sor­ship when it was made, since it ex­pos­es a harsh truth like a tele­vi­sion news sto­ry, with most­ly im­pro­vised di­a­logue and non-pro­fes­sion­al ac­tors.

Irma la Douce (1963)

Wilder, Lem­mon and MacLaine team up again af­ter their col­lab­o­ra­tion in The Apart­ment to of­fer us a fun­ny and au­da­cious farce that works well enough de­spite be­ing a bit over­long and clum­sy in parts, es­pe­cial­ly as it be­comes more and more con­trived to­wards the end.

The Iron Lady (2011)

Apart from Streep­’s per­for­mance, noth­ing else works in this ter­ri­ble, dis­joint­ed mess of a biopic that is so bad­ly writ­ten and di­rect­ed, full of il­log­i­cal nar­ra­tive el­e­ments (the schiz­o­phre­nia thing is un­be­liev­able) and try­ing hard to soft­en the im­age of the char­ac­ter in an en­tire­ly ar­ti­fi­cial way.

Iron Man 2 (2010)

Al­though en­joy­able, this se­quel adopts a more se­ri­ous tone and grants the main char­ac­ter a trag­ic nu­ance, which un­for­tu­nate­ly turns the movie into a less grat­i­fy­ing ex­pe­ri­ence, since what made the first so great was its sar­cas­tic hu­man hero who nev­er seemed to care about oth­ers.

Iron Man 3 (2013)

The fact that it man­ages to be en­ter­tain­ing, es­pe­cial­ly in its first half, com­pen­sates for a flawed script that even comes up with a pa­thet­ic post-trau­mat­ic pan­ic at­tack for our hero and nev­er rais­es the stakes to make us be­lieve that there is some­thing to fear.

Iron­weed (1987)

It looks like it was made by any­one, since Baben­co di­rects it with­out any pas­sion or con­vic­tion and wastes Jack Nichol­son and Meryl Streep in a tir­ing nar­ra­tive that be­comes so un­nec­es­sar­i­ly long with a lot of scenes that could have been cut with­out any dam­age to the sto­ry.

Ir­ra­tional Man (2015)

Allen re­cy­cles fa­mil­iar Dos­toyevsky themes al­ready seen in three of his oth­er films — most es­pe­cial­ly Match Point and Crimes and Mis­de­meanors -, and de­spite his heavy-hand­ed di­rec­tion and an ir­ri­tat­ing nar­ra­tion, it is cu­ri­ous to see how he tells this dark­er sto­ry with a warm cyn­i­cism.

It (2017)

Pen­ny­wise has nev­er been this grotesque and ter­ri­fy­ing, which def­i­nite­ly helps make this a re­al­ly ef­fec­tive adap­ta­tion that has a lot of great scares, fo­cus­ing ex­clu­sive­ly on the teenage ver­sions of its char­ac­ters as they fight an en­ti­ty that em­bod­ies their in­ner­most fears.

It Chap­ter Two (2019)

Worse than bloat­ed as hell, this over­long sec­ond chap­ter is crim­i­nal­ly de­void of scares and suf­fers from a lot of cheesy CGI and a clum­sy sense of hu­mor that feels com­plete­ly out of place here, al­though at least it cares to re­place the orig­i­nal sto­ry’s no­tably aw­ful end­ing with a bet­ter one.

It Comes at Night (2017)

For any­one who has ever seen The Walk­ing Dead, this film won’t be very orig­i­nal in terms of how it de­picts para­noia and dis­trust be­tween strangers in a post-apoc­a­lyp­tic sce­nario, but it com­pen­sates with a tense and un­set­tling mys­tery that keeps us on the edge of our seats.

It Fol­lows (2014)

It is a plea­sure to see a ter­ri­fy­ing hor­ror movie that in­vests in a night­mar­ish at­mos­phere of ten­sion with mo­ments of sus­pense­ful an­tic­i­pa­tion, an ex­cel­lent elec­tron­ic score and an ef­fi­cient cam­er­a­work that makes the best use of zooms and pan shots.

It Hap­pened One Night (1934)

This charm­ing clas­sic may be the very first screw­ball com­e­dy of Cin­e­ma, a fun­ny, amus­ing and op­ti­mistic movie with a de­li­cious­ly sharp di­a­logue and won­der­ful per­for­mances from Gable and Col­bert, who have a great on­screen chem­istry to­geth­er.

It Is Not the Ho­mo­sex­u­al Who Is Per­verse, But the So­ci­ety in Which He Lives (1971)

It is im­pres­sive to see that most of what Praun­heim was say­ing in this 1971 film about the gay cul­ture re­mains the same over forty years lat­er, and de­spite its ex­ces­sive­ly preachy char­ac­ter it is still for sure a must-see to­day as it was when it was made.

It Might Get Loud (2008)

It is fas­ci­nat­ing to see those three rock leg­ends in­ter­act­ing and talk­ing about the elec­tric gui­tar, their per­son­al sto­ries and what in­spires them — and even if it could have ben­e­fit­ed from a more lin­ear struc­ture, this in­sight­ful doc­u­men­tary nev­er ceas­es to be in­ter­est­ing.

It’s a Won­der­ful Life (1946)

Capra finds the most per­fect bal­ance be­tween bit­ter­sweet and op­ti­mistic in this time­less hol­i­day tale, to re­mind us that life is al­ways worth it, even in the worst of cir­cum­stances. A won­der­ful sto­ry that res­onates for a very long time af­ter it is over.

It’s All True (1993)

Or­son Welles’s re­dis­cov­ered reels are shown to com­plete­ly dis­prove the ru­mors of his ri­otous film­ing in Brazil, since what we wit­ness here is high-qual­i­ty cin­e­ma that also ex­pos­es the odi­ous pri­or­i­ties of those film stu­dio ex­ec­u­tives who couldn’t care less about the work of a ge­nius.

It’s Not All True (1986)

It’s all true that it took Sganz­er­la’s chaot­ic, atyp­i­cal film­mak­ing to cap­ture the chaos that be­came Or­son Welles’ tu­mul­tuous at­tempt to shoot a film in Brazil, and while this is an in­trigu­ing type of doc­u­men­tary that blends re­al­i­ty with fic­tion­al­iza­tion, it is also eas­i­er to ap­pre­ci­ate than to en­joy.

It’s Only the End of the World (2016)

Dolan ex­tracts some in­tense per­for­mances from his tal­ent­ed cast and makes an ex­treme­ly ex­haust­ing dra­ma that nev­er feels like a filmed play but rather a de­press­ing and claus­tro­pho­bic ex­pe­ri­ence (full of close-ups) that forces us to stay in the com­pa­ny of a hor­ri­ble fam­i­ly.

The Ital­ian Job (2003)

This ex­hil­a­rat­ing ac­tion-packed movie is quite sat­is­fy­ing for what it in­tends to be: an ex­cit­ing, fast-paced fun ride that ben­e­fits from a great dose of hu­mor, a fine cast and the beau­ty of its lo­ca­tions, es­pe­cial­ly Venice.

Ivan’s Child­hood (1962)

Tarkovsky’s first ma­jor film is this won­der­ful dra­ma about the loss of in­no­cence and the hor­rors of war as seen through the eyes of a Russ­ian or­phan boy, and each shot is beau­ti­ful­ly craft­ed, lead­ing to a most poignant, dev­as­tat­ing end­ing.