
The Suicide Theory movie review: to die or not to die
Guilt, grief, and forgiveness get wrapped up in a Twilight Zone-ish shroud of fate in this downbeat trifle of a crime drama.

Guilt, grief, and forgiveness get wrapped up in a Twilight Zone-ish shroud of fate in this downbeat trifle of a crime drama.

When movies like this star the likes of Liam Neeson, they open on 3,000 screens. It’s difficult not to see racism and sexism in the disparity.

This intense dramatization of the true story of a failed attempt to assassinate Hitler in 1939 is an unpleasant experience but a provocative one.

More standard horror flick, if elegantly presented, than the thoughtful science fiction drama it thinks it is.

A romance of a gentle, bittersweet, grownup variety that doesn’t pretend that every connection has to be a grand, sweeping, happily-ever-after thing.

There are no cartoon Mean Girls here; instead, we get striking portraits of girls in pain, desperately grasping for coping mechanisms.

Smart, thoughtful science fiction that’s about ideas, not spectacle, with an extra kick of cautionary-tale warning in light of current events.

Al Pacino fully arrives at old-coot-dom, ushered in by David Gordon Green in an apparent self-parody of his usual elegiacal visual style.

Admirable but not very engaging SF drama that either fails to recognize the potential of its central conceit, or else is too afraid to confront it head-on.

A repulsive and disgustingly manipulative roundrobin of revenge that veers from softcore porn to an emotionally ignorant parody of a family drama.