Reader Rayvyn is shooting to kill with a Cusack joint.

One of the things I love best about 31 Films In 31 Days is the subpatterns that emerge.

What a performance by Jake Gyllenhaal — and what a performance by Dan Gilroy.

“Oh dear. How uneasy I feel. Perhaps it’s all the sweets.” – my new ringtone.

The last scene in Happy Christmas — technically not a scene — is its best, and most frustrating.

I really wanted to like Gone Girl, and I thought I might reaaaaally hate it, because I gave up on the book 15 pages in.

I would love to ask the readers how I can find luggage that fits the following annoying criteria:

Nothing beats grudgingly watching one of the “Why’s this on here?”s in the ol’ Netflix queue and having an unexpectedly good time.

I watched Boyhood a couple of weeks ago, and I’ve been trying to find a way into my write-up ever since.

“But it’s still a true crime story bloated into looking significant,” David Edelstein sighs of Foxcatcher in his review, and I concur with the “bloated into looking significant” part while having to take issue with …