
Churchill movie review: stumbling over truth
This low-stakes, emotionally limp portrait may be intended to humanize a towering, almost mythic figure, but instead just needles and undercuts him.

This low-stakes, emotionally limp portrait may be intended to humanize a towering, almost mythic figure, but instead just needles and undercuts him.
As you may already be aware if you’ve seen the notes on the what’s-in-cinema pages or follow me on Facebook, I’ve had to return suddenly to New York for a minor crisis…

A beach-slap to anyone with a brain. Embodies everything that is wrong with Hollywood today. It is proudly dumb. It is proudly sexist. It is proudly pointless.

An appalling elevation of toxic masculinity to something poignant, radical, and heroic. As unpleasant and as passive-aggressive as its horrid protagonist.

The franchise finally overstays its welcome with this cacophony of CGI spectacle, a contrived and confusing plot, and a newly cruel and stupid Jack Sparrow.
The balls of an email I just received!

Derivative, rote, devoid of heart and hope. Guy Ritchie has found no reason to retell Arthur’s story, or to render a mythic hero as a self-serving thug.

Replicates the abusive experience of being served a meal by noted hotelier and ball of rage Basil Fawlty in his Torquay lodging establishment. It is an absolute riot.
I’m floored by its breakdown of toxic masculinity and toxic femininity… [This post is not behind the paywall.]
Saturday Night Live is on fire lately.