I kind of liked Smokin’ Aces, the Joe Carnahan feature that followed Narc with a real more-than-ten-days’-worth budget and some actual names. A number of critics blew off the effort as Tarantinoid, derivative, shallow — …

I got a promotional email about Margin Call from Lincoln Center, and incorrectly assumed I could only see it there, therefore braving a Saturday audience at the Elinor Bunin Monroe Theater — a lovely facility …

Let’s leave aside for a moment the fact that I could barely choose among the myriad vaguely pejorative courtroom-drama puns for the subhed, and focus on what makes The Verdict unique. It’s not the acting, …

It seems like more than a few seventies movies have lines of dialogue in which girls swoon over Al Pacino. A quick search only revealed the one, the girl in Saturday Night Fever who sighs …