Jack Davis is a tough, outspoken cop who finds himself wrongly accused for the death of a fellow agent by the depraved and power hungry chief of Miami Customs, Martin Cullen. Disgraced and dismissed, Jack swears revenge and goes to work for Roberto Largo, a rich, evil Cuban crime boss, as bodyguard for his smoldering wife, Eva. Jack knows Largo is connected to his old boss Cullen and is determined to learn the secret that will bring him down. Trapped in a deadly game of cat and mouse, held captive by his passionate affair with Eva, Jack must figure out the significance of the mysterious Spanish Rose to survive.
As a huge fan of Sean Baker’s Tangerine, The Florida Project, and Red Rocket, I’ve wanted to watch Anora since before it even was released. But life got in the way, my watchlist grew, and honestly, the fact that it was marketed as a romantic comedy put me off. Even with all the critical praise and the five Academy Awards it won last year, I just kept postponing it indefinitely.
My review’s title is a nod to Shakespeare and is entirely deliberate. The original movie portrayed the high-end fashion world as a brutal arena of plotting, backstabbing, and betrayal, and most Shakespeare’s plays depend on these plot devices. The Devil Wears Prada 2 uses the same formula, and is, plot-wise, almost identical. Once again, we plunge into the cutthroat world of Runway, where to get and stay at the top, you must let go of your principles and moral sense. The only thing different is that due to the digital era, Runway is not a print magazine anymore, but one that is running online.
This side-splitting workplace comedy features a diverse cast and tackles challenging social issues. Other sitcoms should take note.
Unlike other documentaries about Princess Diana, Perkins’ film, 'The Princess', is an entire documentary consisting of media coverage and public opinion, rather than a typical series of people interviewed with firsthand experience of the Princess. 'The Princess' beautifully depicts how we perceive Diana as a media figure rather than a real person, specifically creating her persona as a fairytale figure turned saint and icon.
A simple question often sparks intense debate. Incluvie attempts a working definition for the beloved horror genre.
Deborah (Jean Smart) and Ava (Hannah Einbinder) are a delight to watch evolve, sometimes devolve, then evolve again.
