A free way to build your virtual collection, make lists, and share them. It’s your new home on Criterion.com.
Learn More »
As with anyone with a personality, subjective interests, and uniquely forged tastes, not every film in the Criterion Collection speaks to me.
Some of these I hate, others I just dislike.
Godard, I love you, but I guess no one's perfect.
Simply put, this just did nothing for me.
Lars von Trier is probably one of my least favorite people on the planet, and this movie pretty much sums up why.
It has interesting elements, but in the end the execution is just dull.
I think there are some really powerful ideas and material here, but they are largely undermined by the way the film overstates the emotion, drama, and "power" to melodramatic degrees. It just makes me feel manipulated rather than affected.
Amazing production design...and not much else. The somewhat interesting themes of generational conflict are rendered obtuse and dull by insufferable melodrama (this seems to have been very common in Japanese cinema of the era), a brutally sluggish pace, blandly repetitive camerawork, an obnoxious score/narration, and a near-impenetrable bombardment of Japanese cultural mythos.
This is a dark movie. Like, really, really dark. Sickly dark. And when the film is at its most pitch-black, I kind of liked it. Like the moment when it is revealed that the underage girl's not-father raped her, or the scene when Serge is too drunk and apathetic to even be conscious when his child is being born. That shit was insane. But that being said, I found Chabrol's style dull (and amateurish in this particular film) and all of the connective tissue between these fleeting moments of interest to be plodding.
Ugh, this movie just sends my douche radar off the charts. So much ridiculous, pretentious, obnoxious silliness.
A cold, detached, cynical ode to lovelessness. A faux-realism style is dull, its narrative is unfocused, and its editing is undisciplined. Even after three hours, there is no meaningful character progression or sense of a passage of time. The class commentary is condescending and empty. And the disgusting scenes of people eating are seemingly endless.
This lame mix of diluted Woody Allen and mainstream rom-com is one of the most confounding additions to the Collection. Sure, William Hurt is a stud and Albert Brooks is funny. That ain't enough.
Like many films on this list, there are interesting qualities, but the execution leaves a lot to be desired.
I'm actually a big Bergman fan, but I found little to latch on to here. Usually, I find what Bergman is exploring so insightful, honest, piercing, and genuinely profound that the atmosphere of misery that tends to pervade everything feels earned and authentic, but here I didn't find that level of humanity and insight, so the morose tone slipped into tedium for me.
A dull, meandering documentary about a pathetic hypocrite.
Sentimental, uninteresting Hollywood fluff. Why is this on Criterion?
One of the most infuriatingly obnoxious pieces of garbage ever made. Empty Dadaist style (rendered even more painful by its insistence on a postured precociousness) and totally vapid and unearned social commentary. Calling this junk "feminist" in an insult to feminism. It pisses me off that this bullshit enjoys such a lofty reputation while the truly great works of the Czech New Wave (such as The Joke or A Report on the Party and Guests) go practically ignored.
Richard Linklater is a bad filmmaker. This is one of the most obnoxious, worthless movies I've ever seen. It can hardly be considered a time capsule since its vibe is so distinctly '90s, not '70s, its characters are some of the most annoying morons ever put on screen, and the film is content to merely be a nostalgic depiction, never an examination. There's no insight. There's no panache. There's no anything. This movie is terrible.
An ugly, hateful film with one of the worst endings in film history.
I really can't stand Noah Baumbach's films. This dull mess didn't help. Just watch the brilliant "Girls" instead; it does everything this tries to do, but a hell of a lot better and with a lot more honesty. This just came off like an aging man feigning an understanding of modern youth while having a lot of French New Wave on his mind.
To say the least, I was underwhelmed.
Anthony Mann is actually one of my favorite directors of all time, but this is one of his few misfires for me. Probably has a lot to do with my dislike of Barbara Stanwyck.
Wake me when it's over.
In many ways, the birth of modern hipster cinema. Therefore, the birth of the worst kind of cinema in history.
I found Harold grating and his morbidity insincere, and I absolutely detested the character of Maude and found much of what she did despicable (Hey, let's steal some poor guy's car because I'm such a free spirit!). What kind of self-absorbed bullshit is that? Fuck this movie.
Steve McQueen is a hack who makes incredibly boring, empty films. He fixates on the minutiae of misery and degradation with no compassion or empathy.
Ang Lee is very hit or miss. I love Brokeback Mountain and Hulk, but this movie is agonizingly dumb. A silly soap opera disguised as a serious film.
Equivalent to watching obnoxious teenagers acting like idiots and thinking they're doing something important.
I am not a fan of Tarkovsky at all, and this movie finds him up to his usual, boring tricks, but being his first feature, there is also an irritating amateurism to go along with them.
Probably the single most boring film I have ever sat through.
I think the overbearing style goes beyond inventive and slips into irritatingly busy. At least it didn't have the insulting propaganda of Soy Cuba to go with it.
I can't stand Nicolas Roeg's sloppy, zoom-happy style.
Wexler blows his load early; the deepest insight he achieves is in the bravura opening sequence, a cutting, self-aware commentary on media detachment that doubles as a mission statement for the film itself (it's also the only sequence with memorably evocative and pleasurable cinematography). After that, things quickly descend into mind-numbing, repetitive tedium full of dull, gauche symbolism (seemingly endless images evoking dislocation and wandering). Wexler's attempts at self-reflexiveness during the climactic riot scene (adding in phony lines of dialogue such as "Look out, Haskell, it's real!" and "Stinkin' commie!") are tumescent and self-satisfied (not to mention thoroughly unnecessary). The ending, which goes no deeper than the opening, then takes those adjectives to an almost-hilarious extreme.
Wexler may have captured a snapshot of a zeitgeist, but he doesn't clarify it.
David Bowie is phenomenal. The rest, not so much.
I usually really like Bunuel, but this one just didn't click for me.
I found this incredibly tiresome and self-important. Same goes for everything Mishima said and did in it.
This movie just made me feel really depressed. I found the atmosphere very off-putting.
I can't believe anyone can take this seriously. It's like watching a really corny, really '90s, really teen-y TV movie.
Ophuls adds some nice stylistic touches here and there, but I just cannot get past how much I loathe most of the characters in this movie. Ophuls portraying them in a fond, warm light just makes it worse.
I actually love the first 30 minutes of this movie (and Antonioni in general), but it eventually just kind of crumbles in on itself.
Roman Polanski is actually my favorite director of all time, but this is one of maybe two or three films he's made that I dislike. Polanski himself calls it his "sloppiest," and says it's "technically well below the standard [he tries] to achieve," and I have to agree.
A bunch of privileged Brits in India. It's every bit as boring as that sounds.
So...so...dull. I find Melville's aesthetic very bland. This tries so hard to be cool, but it's just painful.
The ending is a nice touch, though.
An annoying, sloppy, ultra-boring slice of hippie cinema.
A smug, overblown filmed play that childishly reduces Nixon to a blathering, incoherent, practically senile lunatic. This is in no way humanization or "an attempt to understand" as the film's ridiculous, deflective, and dishonest opening disclaimer asserts - it's just derision.
Getting through all three hours of this uninteresting slog was a real chore. I must confess that I have a very hard time getting into samurai moves in general.
I think Tarkovsky's work and style either speak to you or they don't. I get nothing out of what he does (with the exception of Stalker, which I don't mind) and find sitting through his painfully dragged-out films to be excruciatingly boring.
I hate, HATE this movie and everyone involved with it. A bunch of moronic hippies without an ounce of talent or intelligence between them make a disgusting movie full of obnoxiousness, repulsive acts, and offensively inappropriate use of stock footage of the Katyn massacre. They even throw in a scene where they actually sexually abuse a group of young boys. Real classy. The inclusion of this in the Collection actually makes me reconsider my love of it a little bit.
A depressingly ugly and cynical film. I do not respond to this kind of nastiness.
Can you tell I'm not a fan of hippie cinema? I suppose it could be argued that this isn't strictly a hippie work, but it's mostly the girl that drives me crazy.
Singing literally every word in a movie is a VERY bad idea.
Another film that simply didn't speak to me; it just bored me.
'60s counterculture at its most irritating.
Occasionally funny (and Richard E. Grant is great), but overall I found this bland and forgettable.