Robert Pattinson is the real deal.
Freed from a life of flaunting sparkly abs in Twilight, he’s proven to be among the best actors of his generation.
A prime showcase for Pattinson, this homage to ’70s crime thrillers has him as a fierce, if dimwitted, guardian to his developmentally-disabled brother.
Running from the wreckage of a semi-successful robbery, the duo are split up, forcing big bro to scramble to find a way out for all involved.
Kinetic and jittery, like its main character, this is one Pacino and De Niro would have been happy to make back in the day.
What a beautiful bummer.
Everything, and everyone, is bathed in bile in Bruce Wagner’s caustic dissection of lives lived poorly in Hollywood.
Toss in director David Cronenberg, a master at peeling back the skin of his characters (sometimes literally) and poking them until they squirm.
A rock-solid cast led by Julianne Moore and John Cusack burrow down deep into the fractured lives of Tinseltown lifers desperate for fame of any kind, but it’s Mia Wasikowska who burns brightest.
Her pale skin marred by terrible burns, she’s on a journey of redemption, sorta, her inner anguish searing everyone in her path.
The transformation continues.
Robert Pattinson became a movie star thanks to teenybopper franchises, with a key supporting role in Harry Potter and one of the leads in Twilight.
Since then, however, the lanky one has proven his mettle with a string of fiercely-crafted independent films, and I couldn’t be happier.
This one, which pits him against a gamy Willem Dafoe, plunges into madness and mayhem from the word go and never looks back.
Tracking two lighthouse tenders, left to stew in unhappiness and anger while camped at the end of the world, it’s bizarre, demanding, and uncompromising.
Good job, boys.
In a post-apocalyptic world, let’s agree to stay out of the Australian outback.
Nothing good ever happens down under after society collapses, evidenced by films from Mad Max to Dead End Drive-In.
This sizzlin’ slice of angry men crashing into each other just reinforces my belief the entire continent is waiting to explode into mayhem and murder at the slightest provocation.
Guy Pearce is the last “good” man alive, ruthless and efficiently brutal, but only in the name of getting back his stolen car.
He’s not to be pushed, but talk about his deceased dog, and he’s a pushover.