The Three Musketeers (review)
It is leaden where it should be light. It is graceless and charmless. It reels from the painful banter. It is the epitome of empty soulless corporate filmmaking.
based on a book
The Skin I Live In (review)
I’ve heard this from many a film lover: “Oh, Pedro Almodóvar! He’s such a feminist! He loves women!” I don’t see that. At all.
What’s Your Number? (review)
What’s your “number”? Who the fuck cares what anyone’s “number” is? How the hell is it anybody’s business but your own what your “number” is? In what universe is this even a question?
Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy movie review: let the spy one in
Why does no one ever intone at me and tell me to go to Budapest and wear polyester and smoke cigarettes and get all espionagey, dammit?
Killer Elite (review)
grunt grunt grunt *glower* [insert mockney swearing] bash crash punch kick [insert closeup of unshaven stubble]
Drive (review)
Remember Drive Angry? (I hope you don’t.) This is not that movie. This is Drive Calm. This is Drive Cool.
I Don’t Know How She Does It (review)
It’s pretty fucking clear how Sarah Jessica Parker’s Kate Reddy does it. How she manages to juggle a high-powered career, two demanding moppets, and a marriage: She’s got a buttload of dough.
Conan the Barbarian (review)
Born on a battlefield! Blood blood blood! Bone crunching! Burn burn burn! In 3D!
One Day (review)
There’s a lot of would-be wrenching stuff that One Day tries to pull that it doesn’t earn.
The Devil’s Double (review)
Hoorah! Time to start mythologizing the reign of Saddam Hussein!
