
Get on Up movie review: James Brown’s bad self
Solid biopic of the godfather of funk and soul, but there’s not much genuinely memorable about it beyond Chadwick Boseman’s stunning breakout performance.

Solid biopic of the godfather of funk and soul, but there’s not much genuinely memorable about it beyond Chadwick Boseman’s stunning breakout performance.

A marvelous combination of thrilling intellectual adventure and sensitive portrait of a man ahead of his time both personally and professionally.

This is no stuffy costume drama but a richly lived-in visit to early-19th-century England that is rough, bawdy, often funny, and more often unsettling.

What starts out as solid romantic melodrama — almost Golden Age of Hollywood stuff — gets so crazy so fast in so many ways.

A particularly ugly iteration of “war is hell”… and I mean that as a compliment. This is a film that is deeply unpleasant and near genius.

Remember this name: Jack O’Connell. He is magnificent in one of the most remarkable portraits of soldiering in recent memory.

A solid action fantasy more elemental and visceral than I expected, thanks to the potent presence of Luke Evans.

A yawningly empty movie, the epitome of brainless, heartless, soulless, shameless cash-grab corporate filmmaking.

A tediously clichéd, overblown, badly acted action flick full of bloody movie violence dressed up in Maori drag.

Liam Neeson’s good performance only just elevates the general seen-it-before-ness, including a risible appropriation of women’s pain for men’s redemption.