
London photo: sand artist
Sand sculptor working along the beach on the Southbank of the Thames.

Sand sculptor working along the beach on the Southbank of the Thames.

Women are necessary and present only for how the male protagonist feels about them, and how these feelings motivate him to do things for himself.

It looks lovely and Ian McKellen is amazing, of course, but it’s not very Holmesian. I suspect Holmes himself would snort in derision at its sentimentality.

“Jokey” adolescent misogyny and a “she’s just the girlfriend” negatively impact the horror genre’s typically fairly good representation of women.

Unpleasant characters do things that make no sense in “found footage” clearly edited together from multiple sources. Negligent storytelling at its worst.

Hangin’ with the fishes…

“Luke Howard, Namer of Clouds.” Could that be the most idyllic job ever?

One complex female character in the ensemble, driven by career ambitions as well as romantic ones, saves the film from scoring more poorly than it does.

For once, a movie based on a Nicholas Sparks book is populated by relatively realistic people dealing with relationship conflict in realistic ways.

Guilt, grief, and forgiveness get wrapped up in a Twilight Zone-ish shroud of fate in this downbeat trifle of a crime drama.