An Appreciation of Maggie Smith
Beloved actor Maggie Smith died yesterday at 89. To understand her brilliance, look no further than her complex performance in the 1969 film The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie.
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Eileen Jones is a film critic at Jacobin, host of the Filmsuck podcast, and author of Filmsuck, USA.
Beloved actor Maggie Smith died yesterday at 89. To understand her brilliance, look no further than her complex performance in the 1969 film The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie.
Around 1947, McCarthyism hit Hollywood, just when it was starting to make hit films about the corruption and idiocy of American electoral politics.
The Substance, starring Demi Moore, is a bright and showy body horror film about aging and the hypersexualization of the female body. But it doesn’t go much further than illustrating at great length that there are nasty cultural attitudes toward older women.
Few American acting careers have made such lasting impressions on so many as James Earl Jones’s.
After a dreary sojourn through several terrible films, director Tim Burton’s delightful new Beetlejuice joint proves that you can go home again.
From the depths of August’s cinematic dumping ground comes The Crow, a dreary reboot of the classic 1994 Brandon Lee film, reviled by critics and loaded with lurid CGI and occult hooey. Save yourself the ticket price — better films are on their way.
If you guessed that our film critic Eileen Jones would hate Alien: Romulus, buddy, you guessed wrong. The corporate manipulation and betrayal in the Alien films don’t lose their fascination over the course of their many variations.
Borderlands is officially a box office disaster. Even Cate Blanchett can’t save it.
Trap is a deeply silly thriller — and further proof that writer-director M. Night Shyamalan is among the most uneven filmmakers in the history of the medium.
Deadpool & Wolverine’s cynical mocking of all things Marvel is its secret weapon. No wonder it’s making a killing at the box office.
In Twisters, Glen Powell, Hollywood’s newest MVP, spins a formulaic script into good old-fashioned summer box office gold.
Channing Tatum and Scarlett Johansson try to win the 1969 space race in Fly Me to the Moon. But its heavy-handed history lessons ruin the fun.
Yorgos Lanthimos’s Kinds of Kindness is a nearly three-hour anthology film about the human capacity for cruelty. It’s exactly as fun as that sounds.
Supposedly the first of four films, Kevin Costner’s dull and messy Western throwback, Horizon: An American Saga – Chapter 1, is almost certainly dead on arrival.
A new biography of writer-director-performer Elaine May makes a strong case for her canonization as one of our greatest comic talents. Unfortunately, Hollywood never knew what to do with her.
Jeff Nichols’s The Bikeriders coasts on Austin Butler’s outlaw charm and an excellent performance from Tom Hardy. But neither can get this nostalgia piece into third gear.
Donald Sutherland (1935–2024) projected equal parts warmth, intelligence, and menace on the big screen. But he wasn’t just a brilliant actor — he was a man of the Left who never abandoned those values.
Inside Out 2 just saved Hollywood’s summer profit margins. Too bad it’s just another bland depiction of the Pixar Child’s inner life.
Richard Linklater’s new film, Hit Man, works thanks to the star power and charm of Glen Powell. You won’t even mind the not-entirely-convincing film noir twist.
Anya Taylor-Joy revs up her engines for Furiosa, but this Mad Max prequel is running on fumes.