
The Vatican Tapes movie review: to the devil with it
The demonic-possession subgenre isn’t exactly one crammed with quality cinematic experiences, but it hits a dull, unscary new low with this inept flick.

The demonic-possession subgenre isn’t exactly one crammed with quality cinematic experiences, but it hits a dull, unscary new low with this inept flick.

I am amused by the notion of an establishment so modest that it wouldn’t dare to claim to be the No. 1 or even the No. 2 such endeavor.

A fantastic example of how shifting to women’s perspectives can lend an exciting freshness to tired genres.

Call this a revisionist feminist postapocalyptic historical western home-invasion horror drama. But even that doesn’t quite do it justice.

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With the departure of Judi Dench’s M, there is no longer even a single woman in a position of authority in the current Bond series.

After a truly spectacular and fresh opening sequence, everyone might as well be enacting a Bond puppet show, which is sometimes unpleasantly retro-icky.

A little slice of very old history on Southbank.

An earnest and passionate film, based on a true story that is enraging yet inspiring, that is essential viewing for anyone concerned with women’s rights.

So my Let’s Wait and See Plan after last week’s episode did not pan out. It’s not that there isn’t some good stuff here. But where it ends up is too easy.