
mother! movie review: from WTF to STFU
Darren Aronofsky’s self-pitying cinematic rending of garments is repulsive, transparent, and pointless. A grotesquely wrapped gift box of utter banality.

Darren Aronofsky’s self-pitying cinematic rending of garments is repulsive, transparent, and pointless. A grotesquely wrapped gift box of utter banality.

Bitter, snide, and ultimately brutal, exactly the movie about social media we deserve; a satire that is barely satirical. Aubrey Plaza is hashtag savage.

Lush sensationalism and Dickensian social justice collide in 1880s London, and if there isn’t quite enough of either, it’s still a slice of satisfying gothic horror.

An action masterpiece newly remastered in gorgeous 4K (and rejiggered for superfluous 3D) reveals how fresh it remains not only technically but thematically.

Cheesy Euro ballerina-porn cartoon is full of dated animation, cringeworthy attempts at humor, bizarre anachronisms, and a terrible message for little kids.

Covers ground — the lives of black teen girls — that mostly goes unexamined onscreen. It couldn’t be fresher or more important. It’s also wildly entertaining.

The living, breathing, bleeding life of the breathtaking fight scenes cannot overcome confusingly twisty spy intrigue and multiple male gazes on the story.

All familiar funhouse spooks telegraphed a mile out, with no spiritual or psychological weight, but with some very young girls terrorized for your entertainment.

Stereotypes and contrived shenanigans don’t seem to actually offer much catharsis for harried moms seeking escape. And the dads inevitably butt into their me-time.

A charming delight in a retro timeslip. Gillian Robespierre and Jenny Slate continue their rampage of creating wonderfully, memorably flawed women onscreen.