More clowning around from the obnoxious Lars von Trier.
As good an American movie as you're likely to see these days.
A son betrays his father to the prevailing media consensus.
Who wrote Shakespeare's plays? The latest in idiot fantasy at the movies.
Once again, Hollywood pretends to remain ignorant of the ancient maxim caveat emptor.
It's not exactly a religious pilgrimage, but it does treat religion with a certain respect.
A willingness to blur the difference between reality and unreality undermines what would otherwise be a fine movie.
A permanent sense of grievance makes this movie memoir of 1960s England rather mean-spirited.
Left-wing intellectuals, it appears, are all alike.
Everything you thought it knows about baseball is wrong.