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The intrigue, shifting alliances, and twisted revenge? Delicious, pulpy fun. The male-gazey soft-core porn that undermines the female protagonists? Not so much.
EMPs and nukular codes and cyber crap and submarines, oh my! “What does this have to do with us?” Michelle Rodriguez cries, and I’m like I know, right?
Bland, tasteless entertainmentstuff intended to neither move nor offend, and succeeds as such. A sad pile of unfunny nothing that falls painfully flat.
Doesn’t hit all the noir tropes so much as it wrings all the gloomy joy from them, and the mystery is underwhelming and unmysterious, but still: Riz Ahmed.
A gripping précis of what Edward Snowden learned at the CIA and NSA, why he went public, and why it matters. Entertaining yet also deeply unsettling.
Trite characters, very well-worn clichés of SF cinema, and a mystery that is completely transparent. All about production design, and even that is familiar.
Toilet humor, cars exploding for no reason, random naked boobies, and gay panic… although, weirdly, also lots of awkward, unerotic nearly naked Dax Shepard.
Muddy and muddled 70s-style backwoods gothic Americana only comes to life when it rises to the accidentally silly. Little more than an incoherent showreel.
The sparse, cold satisfaction that could be wrung from Trainspotting’s punk insolence has been replaced by an exhausted cynicism. Which is exactly right.
Tepid teen romance turned implausible thriller is just about saved by a powerful, and unusually disturbing, performance from Bill Paxton (one of his last).
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