
47 Meters Down movie review: jumping the shark
Originally slated for a VOD release, and it feels like it: the few moments of simple tension quickly dissipate in the murky and not very shark-infested depths.

Originally slated for a VOD release, and it feels like it: the few moments of simple tension quickly dissipate in the murky and not very shark-infested depths.

This strained comedy might have been progressive in the 1960s, but today it reeks of an infantilization of women that warrants squashing, not celebrating.

Everything about this joyful, sincere origin story feels like a retort — a very welcome and much needed one — to traditional male-centered superhero stories.

Wants to tackle huge personal and societal problems — toxic masculinity; the collapse of traditional ways of life — but it only displays them freak-show style.

Wonderfully strange and weird and funny and dark and bitter. A deliciously geek-flavored metaphor for how damaged people heedlessly spread around their damage.

Lesbian and not-quite-sure-if-she’s-a-lesbian have a weekend fling. Sometimes unintentionally hilarious, this is little more than soft-core porn.

An astonishing tale of privilege and power: stark, searing, and brutal, almost a Victorian companion to Get Out. Florence Pugh is a force of nature.

This may be Werner Herzog’s most conventional film, but its mostly untold true story knows what it means for a woman to choose a life of adventure and intellect.

Sure, Ice Queen is the villain here. She’s the one who’s in the wrong for doin’ ALL THE THINGS she was supposed to do, and her promised man-prize was stolen.

There’s lots to like in this mostly sweet British Muslim rom-com. Pity, then, that it tries too hard, instead of trusting its characters, and sabotages itself.