The Sitter (review)
I’m starting to wonder, truly and sincerely, if David Gordon Green is suffering from one of those brain tumors that radically alters one’s personality…
I’m starting to wonder, truly and sincerely, if David Gordon Green is suffering from one of those brain tumors that radically alters one’s personality…
So, Seann William Scott is sort of like Forrest Gump. No, I mean in this Goon movie.
Hey, wouldn’t it be neat if Alvin asked Dave, “Am I a pet?” and then, not getting an honest answer, led a chipmunk uprising?
This is it: the collectivist kiddie flick that makes it look like fun to work together for the betterment of all. Disgusting!
I’m pretty sure that the reason Antonio Banderas was put on this planet was to make Puss in Boots speak…
Oh, glorious steampunk! Oh, glorious Victoriana! Oh, for a time when men were men (and not little boys) and industry meant hard work (and not corporate malfeasance) and optimism (and not despair) ruled the day. When the future was so bright, you hadda wear shades.
Want to make manchildren laugh? Blow some weed smoke out at them in 3D. Call something “Avatarded” as a compliment. Get a baby high. Har har.
What are you doing New Year’s eve? Not seeing this cheap, lazy excuse for a movie, I hope…

Is there sweet? Absolutely. But it is cut with funny: sometimes wicked, sometimes manic, often hysterical, always clever funny. And a whole lotta poignant, too.

For a film critic, there are few pleasures more satisfying than ripping into a bad movie. But one of those few is discovering that a film that you were expecting to hate — a movie that you had no doubts whatsoever would turn out to be utterly awful — turns out to be wonderful.