There is a danger in responding to a film like Hidden Figures by congratulating ourselves on how far we’ve come.
I was delighted to see Annie remade with an African American girl in the title role. But the new version doesn't do justice to the original's progressive vision.
I’ve never seen a film that translates grace to the screen like Babette’s Feast. As one of the rare films that focuses on the lined and battered faces of real people Babette’s Feast challenges viewers to love real life. The film embraces God’s love for the embodied, the ordinary and the value of the extraordinary, and a love that wastes nothing.
Son of God is a dud. Just don’t tell that to the film’s producers, Roma Downey and Mark Burnett. They found evidence of divine favor in the “truly miraculous” support they received from Catholic and evangelical leaders. It brought in $26.5 million its first weekend. Burnett and Downey’s marketing approach makes good business sense and has plenty of precedent.
Llewyn Davis lives a decidedly nonromantic existence as a starving artist. He’s a good musician, but there are thousands like him, and they can’t all succeed.
I began watching Her suspicious that it would glorify bodiless romance or present a mere male fantasy. But the film surprised me.
Terrence Malick has become the psalmist of film. His characters continually ask the fundamental questions of theological pursuit.
The early history of Alcoholics Anonymous has always fascinated me, so I was eager to see the much heralded new documentary Bill W.
Viewers don’t look to James Bond movies for profundity. Mostly they go to see buxom babes (now brainier and badder) and gravity-defying vehicle chases. But the most recent Bond installment offers some pertinent comments on technology.