Juliette Binoche

A wasted opportunity to tell in filmic terms two important histories: the crimes of apartheid and the love with which they were answered.

Haneke's exploration of willful ignorance, guilt, and history takes hold, and doesn't quite let go when the lights come up.

All suggestion and no imposition, a subtle meditation on how we position ourselves in space and to what end.

Considers what’s real between two people, and if it should bother us when reality becomes replaced with a copy.

Unsparing character studies, using the specific to illuminate the universal.

Assayas implies that what transpires between the characters of Clouds of Sils Maria, between artists and art, and between art and audiences contains its own beautiful mystery that's nourishing, maddening, and essential.

There’s too much stilted acting here and too little psychological insight to render an interesting, or even credibly true, story of humanity in crisis.

Slyly addresses...how we think and how we consume media, how we tell stories to each other and ourselves, and what we need out of our personal connections.

Ambition...effort...well-intentioned...some genuinely affecting grace notes on occasion, but it's also shameless.