Noah Baumbach and Greta Gerwig's Manhattan-esque comedy, shot entirely in black and white, brings the force and intimacy of a love story to bear on the relationship between two Brooklyn-based flatmates.
French, the Observer’s main film critic since 1978, will retire in August. Douglas McCabe assesses the work of a critic who was determined to see every film in its social, historical, cultural and aesthetic context.
Drake Doremus's pale blue drama stars Guy Pearce as a middle-aged musician looking for a break from his humdrum life. When British exchange student Sophie Williams (Felicity Jones) arrives, he sees a second chance to regain his youth.
William Wyler's 1953 romantic comedy Roman Holiday introduced Audrey Hepburn to the world. With the film's re-issue, the power of her first leading role hasn't diminished one bit.
Edgar Wright and Simon Pegg return for the final instalment of their "Cornetto" trilogy: a raucous comedy slightly gnarled by its lofty ambitions.
Haifa al-Mansour, the first woman ever to direct a feature film in Saudi Arabia, talks to Steve Yates about how her film <em>Wadjda</em> came together.
Is it ever right to leave a film early? After all, going to the cinema is about so much more than what’s on the screen.
Alex Gibney's WikiLeaks documentary rightly celebrates Bradley Manning, while at the same time providing plenty of ammo for Julian Assange's many critics.
The documentary film The Act of Killing asks Indonesian death-squad leaders to re-enact their crimes for the camera. They boast openly about their massacres as we observe the real effects of living a fiction.
Director Guillermo del Toro has spoken with open passion about this ludicrous, ludicrous film. In fact, he's right: it's pretty good.
Bula Quo! might be tired, naive and desperately middle-of-the-road, but spare the pop-film genre! I can't be the only one who looks at Rizzle Kicks or Dizzee Rascal and thinks: give those kids a movie.
Director Ben Wheatley - "a Guy Ritchie for hipsters" - has attracted something of a devoted following. But surely it's time for him to start making movies that reach beyond his fan base?
Ryan Gilbey wonders why <em>Despicable Me 2</em> had to be made.
Ryan Gilbey reviews three documentaries: <em>The Act of Killing, Pussy Riot: a Punk Prayer</em> and <em>Stories We Tell.</em>
Will Self's "Madness of Crowds" column.
Like Someone in Love by the Iranian director Abbas Kiarostami uses prostitution as a means to pursue its own ends: an analysis of identity and everyday role playing, without the slightest hint of smut.
Viewers often admit to wanting to “know what happened when the cameras stopped rolling” and in their purest form sequels answer those questions.
The Stone Roses are back, whether you like it or not. Two new films, Spike Island by Mat Whitecross and Shane Meadow's Made of Stone, boast of the band's greatness, without offering much of a reason for it.
"The movie event of the year".
Richard Linklater’s remarkable 20-year, three-film journey, from sunrise to midnight.
I’m only seventeen. The continued popularity of Shakespearean adaptations is a great thing for young people.
Can only when we stop confusing artistic merit with ethical deformity can we start having interesting conversations about what constitutes “artistic” pornography and whether there’s a market for it, says Tabatha Leggett.
Daniel Craig apologised for Quantum of Solace in 2011, and this week, Glenn Close has expressed regret publicly for her portrayal of a woman with mental illness in Fatal Attraction. But was it necessary?
How to describe Liberace? Imagine a French Fancy at a grand piano, decked out in jewellery that would make the average hip-hop performer look frugal, and you're in the right ballroom. I mean, ballpark.
Claude Miller's new adaptation of Thérèse Desqueyroux has some neat acting from Audrey Tautou, but the film fails to catch fire.
Juliet Jacques returns to one of Britain’s best silent films.
Popular culture is bursting with handy tips.
If you’ve seen The Cement Garden, Pan’s Labyrinth or The Others, you are already familiar with some of the pictures which wouldn’t exist without Carlos Saura's Cría cuervos.
Another installment of the second-unfunniest comedy franchise in town.