
Interstellar movie review: trading worry for wonder
Thrilling intellectually and viscerally, full of stirring notions of what humanity is capable of, and full of hope. A wonderfully refreshing sort of SF.

Thrilling intellectually and viscerally, full of stirring notions of what humanity is capable of, and full of hope. A wonderfully refreshing sort of SF.

The animation is fresh, unique, and gorgeous. But we don’t need another tale of a man having exciting adventures while a woman waits around to marry him.

A particularly ugly iteration of “war is hell”… and I mean that as a compliment. This is a film that is deeply unpleasant and near genius.

Bland and generic beyond the small pleasures of its theme-park-ride-esque thrills and its half-intriguing, half-infuriating mystery.

Remember this name: Jack O’Connell. He is magnificent in one of the most remarkable portraits of soldiering in recent memory.

A solid action fantasy more elemental and visceral than I expected, thanks to the potent presence of Luke Evans.

A deeply terrible would-be action comedy that looks, sounds, and feels like an 80s cheap and cheesy made-for-cable movie.

A tediously clichéd, overblown, badly acted action flick full of bloody movie violence dressed up in Maori drag.

Liam Neeson’s good performance only just elevates the general seen-it-before-ness, including a risible appropriation of women’s pain for men’s redemption.

Yet another artifact of the long stagnation of Hollywood, which has been remaking the same movies over and over and over again for the past 30 years.