
My All American movie review: football fundamentalism
Not an inspirational football movie but the highlights reel from one, with a golden boy who is his own manic pixie dreamboat. The worst sort of hagiography.

Not an inspirational football movie but the highlights reel from one, with a golden boy who is his own manic pixie dreamboat. The worst sort of hagiography.

A film taken with the singular American delusion that Jesus loves football… though it also throws in a new delusion: Jesus hates the U.S. Constitution.

A Mr. Collins of a movie: fatuous, self-important, and nowhere near as smart or as elegant as it thinks it is. There isn’t a lick of wit to be found here.

See this for Casey Affleck: he exudes a classic cinematic masculinity here. Alas, the rest of the film is old-fashioned in ways that are downright stodgy.

Enchanting, startling; a rare story about a girl at a precarious age. Full of that exquisite Studio Ghibli sorcery that captures the beauty of the ordinary.

Michael Bay propagandizes for a right-wing idea of “true America,” seething with disdain for anyone who isn’t a former elite soldier turned mercenary.

A missed opportunity to tell what should be a captivating real-life disaster tale that is instead plodding, scattershot, and lacking in dramatic impetus.

Lazy and trite, with a passive protagonist. It’s as if no one here understands the appeal of the postapocalyptic YA genre it is attempting to piggyback on.

This compact little satire — set in 1990s Balkans — is a small, personal story about huge unfairnesses and injustices. Bleakly, bitterly, blackly funny.

Flawless in every way: sumptuous visually and emotionally. One of the more mature and sophisticated romances the big screen has ever seen.