
At the Lightroom in London, pianist Yuja Wang offers an extraordinary recital at the heart of the immersive exhibition devoted to David Hockney. In this concert, the British painter's brightly coloured canvases enter into communion with the musical works performed, ranging from Bach to Samuel Barber. An unusual unison of the visual and audio arts.
Him is visually stunning—all concrete cathedrals and bone-rattling impact shots that look like a nightmare highlight reel. Marlon Wayans is magnetic as this legendary quarterback who's basically selling salvation with a smile that never quite reaches his eyes. But the story keeps running in circles: more tests, more cryptic pep talks, more ritualistic drills. The sports-as-religion metaphor beats you over the head when subtlety would've been more effective. The middle drags, and that finale chooses spectacle over substance. It's undeniably stylish, but left me cold. Also worth noting: despite the Monkeypaw connection, this isn't actually a Jordan Peele film—he didn't write or direct.
Its predictability shouldn’t distract from the enjoyment that the pure cinematic imagination behind the camera elicits. It is a movie of crises both moral and mortal, oozing with CGI, and thoroughly enjoyable.
Tarantino's alternative history of the 1960's uncritically repeats the era's sexist and racist stereotypes.
After years of mediocrity, Thunderbolts* is the welcome change MCU fans were waiting for.
Looking back at the representation of different cultures in the magical world of Harry Potter