I Vitelloni is nothing if not a bona fide neorealist classic.
Lucifer is less a fully satisfying experience than a spotty showcase for its star, who carries enough of the load to make it worthwhile.
The Comfort of Strangers is a head scratching misuse of so much talent, yet it’s difficult to place blame squarely on one party.
The White Sheik, charming but superficial, offers a menu of these themes and tropes that would become the building blocks of Fellini's decades-long oeuvre.
“I like you, very much. Just as you are.”
An over-the-top story about Elvis and JFK battling a mummy in a nursing home seems quaint compared to a large swath of the citizenry actually believing that a reality show-host president secretly combatted cannibal Satanist pedophiles in a pizza parlor.
Legendary director Federico Fellini's directorial debut, while an ostensibly realistic rendering of a traveling performance troupe struggling to get by during the lean post-war years, already signals an eye drawn toward the fantastic.
What lowers Miss Tulip from mediocrity to hellscape is its air of missed opportunity.
Though it doesn’t scale the heights of Renoir’s best, Toni is an interesting and refreshing curio, a full-blooded melodrama of a director getting fresh air and breaking free.
Cronenberg has made a career of brilliantly and unapologetically exploring darkness and disaffection with what feels like an unblinking gaze.