Carole Scotta

Gifted filmmaker Cantet (The Class) packs this fascinating story with vivid characters, but fails to shape the narrative into something that holds our attention. This is precision filmmaking, expertly recreating a period to adapt Joyce Carol Oates' iconic novel, but the movie is so long and meandering that it never builds up any momentum at all.

It's set in 1955, when 14-year-old Legs (Adamson) teams up with her best pal Maddy (Coseni) to form a secret society called Foxfire with their friends Rita, Goldie and Lana (Bisson, Mazerolle and Moyles). Their plan is to stick up for each other in the face of male persecution, and their first act together is to humiliate a sexist teacher. From here they get bolder, attacking Maddy's abusive uncle and waging war on the school bullies. Then a run-in with the law leaves Legs locked up in a girls' home. When she gets out, she rents a farmhouse where they can live together, but the money runs short so they start indulging in petty crimes. Then they plan an audacious kidnapping.

Cantet stages all of this so adeptly that it feels like a true story, complete with random details about the situations and characters. And since these girls all come from broken homes and struggle against gender inequality, we root for them to succeed. To a point. It's one thing to corner a predatory man; it's another to prey on someone who is completely innocent. So when they do that, it's impossible to see them as anything other than criminals.

Continue reading: Foxfire: Confessions Of A Girl Gang Review

One-time novelist Tom (Hawke) travels from America to Paris to reconnect with his ex-wife (Chuillot) and his 6-year-old daughter (Papillon), but is immediately confronted with a restraining order. He's also robbed of his luggage and left in a cafe on the edge of town, where the waitress (Kulig) and owner (Guesmi) offer him a room and a job as a night watchman. Then he meets the alluring Margit (Scott Thomas) at a literary party, and she begins to take his mind off his troubles.

Continue reading: The Woman In The Fifth Review

But down at the beach, things are beautiful. The upscale resort at which most of the film takes place is popular with women of a certain age who come alone not just for the weather but for the attention of the local beach boys who wander around, strike up flirtations, and provide sexual favors in exchange for gifts.

Continue reading: Heading South Review

Bertrand Bonello's film isn't just a study of how porn has degenerated from adult-oriented love stories to rank perversion, it's also a film about how the movies themselves have changed, especially French cinema. No longer thoughtful spectacles, even Gallic films have succumbed to the need to shock and awe.

Continue reading: The Pornographer Review

Miles away from what we critics enjoy referring to as "visually austere" (i.e., static shots with careful compositions), The Book of Life throws caution to the wind. Working with new cinematographer Jim Denault (Boys Don't Cry) instead of old standby Michael Spiller (Trust), Hartley spins and fusses in colorful blurred abstractions, creating a dreamy, impressionistic look with none of his trademark hard edges. Look, ma -- no hands!

Continue reading: The Book Of Life Review